Page 80 of Ungodly Rich

Peitho walked around Julia, studying her the way Julia probably studied statues in her art history classes—not judgmentally, but impartially, the way an artist sees only line and form and possibility. Then she clapped.

Two assistants, wispy young women who looked like they worked atVogue,appeared from the back room.

“Start pulling gowns in a size four,” Peitho instructed them. “I want the new violet Oscar, the off-the-shoulder Elie Saab, the entire newcollection of Giambattista, and Jason Wu. You are indireneed of Jason Wu,” she told Julia solemnly. “What size shoe do you wear, a seven?”

“I do.” Julia sounded impressed.

Peitho waved in the direction of her two assistants. “Pull several pairs of Jimmys in a seven. And someone call Pierre, tell him we need on-site highlights this afternoon.”

At the mention of highlights, Julia’s brow furrowed. “I’m really just here for a couple of new outfits,” she insisted. “I don’t need highlights.”

“Oh, but you do. You need it all,” Hermes said cheerfully.

Julia looked like she wanted to protest, but the assistants had already come forward with a hanging rack of clothes. Hermes gave a little sigh of contentment and began sorting through the dresses, sliding them one by one along the silver rod. Occasionally, he paused to touch a particularly lovely bit of embroidery or a well-stitched seam, relishing the simple joy of expensive fabric.

He loved beauty for the sake of beauty—loved things that were unnecessarily, pointlessly elaborate. Mortals were just so good at them.

Julia stepped behind a Japanese folding screen printed with whimsical cranes. There was something old-fashioned about the scene, as if there might be a lady’s maid behind it, about to lace her into a corset.

Hermes’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. Hera. He debated ignoring her, then decided it was safer to answer.

“Is everything all right?” he murmured, turning aside so Julia wouldn’t overhear.

Typically, Hera ignored his attempt at conversation. “Come over now.”

“I’m a little busy at the moment. Doing something for you, actually—”

“Where are you? In Manhattan, surely?” she demanded.

Normally, Hermes gave in to all her demands. When Hera asked him to come, he put on his winged shoes and ran through the streets so fast the mortals couldn’t even see him.

He was growing weary of her summons.

“I’m with Julia,” he hissed. “Are you sure you want me to leave? I’m finally making some progress with her.”

There was a beat of silence before Hera said, “Fine. Keep digging.” And then she hung up without another word.

“Everything okay?” Julia emerged from behind the screen wearing a dramatic red gown with a plunging V-neck.

Hermes tucked his phone away and turned to Julia. “Take that off! You look like Jessica Rabbit.”

“Really? I was going for slutty firefighter,” Julia said lightly.

Hermes was startled into laughing. “That gowndoesdeserve to be set aflame.”

Julia rolled her eyes but smiled as she disappeared behind the screen.

The morning went on like that, with dress after dress punctuated by Hermes’s running commentary. When Julia stepped out in a long sequined gown, Hermes threw a hand over his eyes, pretending to be blinded by the reflected light. When she emerged in a halter neckline, heooohed. “You have fantastic shoulders and arms; you should show them off more.” When she came out in a bright blue dress with pink accents, he scoffed. “God, you look like a baby shower invitation for twins. Or a 1992 Lilly Pulitzer photo shoot. I can’t decide which is worse.”

Eventually, Julia emerged in an all-lace Dolce—a long-sleeved one, but with a shockingly short hem and a wide boat neck that skimmed over Julia’s shoulders. Hermes gave a slow clap. “Now, this isexactlywhat I meant! Old-world princess, but with an edgy twist.”

Peitho handed Julia a pair of iridescent opal earrings. Then, with practiced hands, she pulled Julia’s hair into a chic low bun.

The opals seemed to blaze against her deep brown hair, making her eyes gleam like a cat’s. She no longer looked like the athletic girl-next-door type Hermes had first met. She looked strong. Glamorous. And a little bit dangerous.

“It’s just a dress,” Julia breathed. “How did it change me like this?”

Peitho shook her head. “It’s never just a dress. It’s magic.”