Page 78 of Ungodly Rich

She watched as Allison studied the canvas. “What does the tree bark represent?”

“Strength, and survival in adversity, and the passage of time. But also…” Julia’s voice softened. “I like to think that this tree bark somehow suggests magic. There’s a mystical feel to the celadon green, the way it swirls in this knot of the tree into a deeper color and becomes almost blue. It’s not realistic, but it’s not supposed to be.”

Allison stared at it another moment. “We don’t know anything about the artist?” she asked, still sounding skeptical.

“He prefers not to work under his own name, but it’s assumed that he lives somewhere on the East Coast. Vermont, maybe, given how beautiful the trees are?” Julia guessed.

To her surprise, Allison nodded. “Very well. I’ll have our banker wire over the funds this afternoon. You can coordinate with my assistant for delivery.”

Julia belatedly realized that they hadn’t discussed the most important detail. “We should—I mean, the price is—”

Allison made ahmphsound. “Oh, I don’t care about the cost. You’re practically an Ellene, and I’ve known Tara for years. I trust you to be fair.”

Was Julia being welcomed into the world of the Ellenes—or was she being warned?

Allison lifted her hand in a careless wave, then walked out with a brisk click of her heels. Julia took a deep breath before venturing to Lucy’s office. The door was open, but she still knocked.

“I made a sale,” she said tentatively. “A Lantern, in fact.”

“Yes, I was listening.” Lucy looked up from her computer screen, her expression unreadable. “You sold a painting to a friend of your mother-in-law.”

“We’re not—”

“Julia, you aren’t legally obligated to tell me anything about your personal life,” Lucy said stiffly. “But I can’t imagine why you didn’t share that you’re getting married. I thought you were single. I thought you went to London to visit a friend. And it was actually for your engagement party?” She shook her head. “Why did you feel the need to lie?”

“I really did see my friend! It wasn’t a lie,” Julia protested. “I just—Ileft out some of the truth.” The excuse sounded flimsy to her own ears, like something a kindergartner would use to avoid a time-out.

“What other truths have youleft out?” Lucy asked, echoing Julia’s words.

“Nothing! I didn’t tell you about Harry because I was trying to get a job on my own.” Julia let out a breath. “The Ellenes have so much ofeverything. I wanted to prove that I didn’t need them to pull strings for me.”

“Julia,” Lucy said heavily. “I know you took this job for those moments of passionate connection to a work: when you see a painting and it makes you want to laugh, or cry, or fuck. It’s such a joy finding a work like that, getting to promote that artist and help them find an audience. But let me tell you, those moments are few and far between. Most of this job is showmanship.”

Julia blinked. “What are you saying, you don’t believe in the art you represent?”

“Does it matter if I believe in it as long as the buyer does?” Lucy said, challenging her. “Last year at Art Basel someone sold a banana for six figures. Anactualbanana, duct-taped to the wall, that rotted within days! Our job isn’t to judge the art. It’s to make a sale.” Lucy paused, then added, “Like you just did, selling one of the Lanterns.”

Maybe Julia wasn’t in trouble after all.

“It helps, of course, that you had a personal connection. I hope more connections will find their way to the gallery soon.” Lucy leveled a stare at Julia. “Believe me, I wish we didn’t have to think financially at all, but if we want our artists to get paid, if we want the bandwidth to supportmoreartists, then we have to sell their pieces.”

Julia nodded slowly. Everything came back to money in the end, didn’t it? Even something as elevated and cerebral as art.

Well, so what if it did? Money had almost come between her and Harry, but Julia had salvaged things. She wouldn’t let money ruin her love for her job, either.

Lucy started to turn back to her computer. She added, almost casually, “So, when is the wedding?”

Julia realized, then, what she would have to do. Perhaps some part of her had known all along.

“In October, on the coast of Georgia. We haven’t sent out the invitations yet, but I’m hoping you’ll be there.”

Interest flickered across Lucy’s face, though her voice was still stern. “I’ll have to check my calendar.”

“I’ll seat you near Scarlett Johannson. You know she’s a big modern art fan.”

Lucy’s lips were still pursed, but it was clear now that she was pursing them against a smile. “Thatisinteresting,” she conceded. “Now go write up that paperwork for the Lantern sale. And make sure to bring your fiancé to the gallery soon. I’d like to meet him.”

It was a stinging reminder of the trade Julia was making, of the divide between her previous self and her future self. Once she married Harry, the world would see her only as his wife. As Mrs. Ellene.