Page 94 of Ungodly Rich

He heard her beat of hesitation. “I leave for the wedding on Wednesday. I really should be getting organized right now.”

“You can make lists on the chopper,” Hermes insisted. “Come on, Lady Sophie de Hauteville is doing an art installation in Montauk.”

“She’s an artist? I’ve never heard of her….”

“More like a socialite,” he admitted. “Which is precisely why you should come. Think of all the prospective buyers who will be there! Come on,” he pleaded. “We’ll be up and back before ten. Let yourself have a night off from being the bride-to-be.”

Julia laughed at that. “You’re right, I need a break. Where should I meet you?”

• • •

“You called this an art installation,” Julia said skeptically as they walked along the beach at Ditch Plains. “It feels more like a children’s birthday party. I mean…sandcastles? Really?”

Glamorous men and women in white linen drifted around the beach with glasses of rosé. Lady Sophie herself—thin and pale, with crooked teeth that she kept flashing in a delighted smile—knelt in the sand, putting the finishing touches on the sandcastle village she’d spent a week constructing.

“Who’s to say that sandcastles aren’t art?” Hermes mused, watching the socialite at work. “I think they evoke something of childhood, something whimsical and innocent.”

“There’s no way she can monetize this, though,” Julia insisted. “No one can buy one of these sandcastles. How would you transport it?”

Hermes gave Julia a playful nudge. “Look at you, becoming a little capitalist. Maybe Lady Sophie is just doing this for fun.”

They approached one of the sandcastles, which were arranged around a central village square, the sand raked and dotted with sprays of seaweed that were meant to represent trees. Hermes saw Julia fall silent as she cataloged all the details: The staircases that Lady Sophie had constructed within the castles, painstakingly made with a shovel. The chimneys lined with pebbles, the doorways built from driftwood or seashells.

“They are beautiful.” Julia’s expression was unreadable as she mused, “This makes me think of the dollhouse I had when I was little.”

“A Barbie Dreamhouse?” Hermes guessed.

“An old wooden one. My mom got it at the church’s guild shop, a place where all the rich people came to donate their old clothes and things.” Julia seemed only a little self-conscious as she spoke. “She and I spent months decorating it together. We would go to designer stores and find old wallpaper scraps to glue on the walls, buy linen napkins from garage sales and make them into bedspreads for the dolls. My mom was creative like that,” Julia added.

Hermes thought of how he’d mentioned Julia’s mother to Hera earlier. How Hera had laughed dismissively and said,Her mother!It was an odd way to speak about a person Hera had never met.

He began to wonder.

“I’m sure it’s been hard, planning the wedding without your mother,” Hermes ventured. “Think of how proud she would be of you right now. You’re building a life for yourself: making your way in the art world and marrying a man who loves you.”

“It is hard. I wish Mom could be there to walk me down the aisle,” Julia admitted.

Hermes hesitated before asking, “You never told me what happened to your mom. All I know is that you lost her at a young age. Was she sick? Or—was there an accident?”

Julia stared out at the waves crashing toward the shore, brow furrowed. Guests milled around them, laughing and gossiping.

“Sorry,” Hermes said hastily, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s all right. This is just hard for me to talk about. Even Harry doesn’t know the whole story,” Julia admitted. “The truth is…I don’t know what to believe.”

“What do you mean?” Hermes asked, struck by an odd feeling. Call it a premonition.

“I feel like I can’t really trust my own memories. The things I remember from that summer don’t make sense.” She let out a bitter little laugh, shaking her head. “Sorry, forget I said anything.”

Hermes had coaxed secrets from mortals so many times. He would slip a bit of magic into his voice, lulling them into a sense of securitythat made themwantto divulge everything. But magic hadn’t worked on Julia—and even if it had, he wouldn’t want to use it on her. Not anymore.

If they were going to talk about this, he wanted to do it the genuine way. He just didn’t have much experience in that department.

“Of course you don’t need to talk about this. But if youwantto talk about it, I’m here. I’m good at keeping secrets.” Hermes mimed zipping his lips and turning a key over them.

Julia sighed. “My mom was dating someone before she died. But the things I remember about him…they aren’t possible.”

No. It couldn’t be.