Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Nantucket Island
J ulia and Charlie had returned from Europe five weeks ago, and still, there was no word from Elena, nor any sign from Lucia Colombo.
Together with Nicole, Julia had tackled PR for the publishing house and had even signed several brand-new writers who could boost her revenue and keep the house alive into the new year.
That said, it would be touch-and-go, probably for many years. If only Elena had come through.
Greta understood why Alessandra didn’t want her identity to be revealed, even in death. “It wasn’t about that for her,” she said, taking a sip of wine.
“We aren’t supposed to know about the cancer,” Alana agreed, her eyes to the water.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Ella breathed.
They held the silence, thinking about Elena, the love she had for her mother, and about Sophia and Marius, wondering if they knew their daughter’s famous identity.
They thought about Federico, who they’d looked up online.
They’d learned that his online profiles all still listed him as married to Alessandra, and that her photographs were featured prominently on his pages.
It seemed unlikely that he’d ever move on.
Of course, Julia knew that the heart was a wonderful and complex thing, that it could create new rooms for new loves, if you wanted that. Charlie had certainly allowed her to come back into his life after the death of his wife. She was grateful for that.
It had changed her life.
A week or so later, Charlie and Julia packed a picnic and went for a sail around Nantucket Island.
After they dropped anchor, Julia worked through another stack of manuscripts for potential clients, and Charlie listened to music through his speakers.
They ate fresh fruit and showed one another things they liked, both in the manuscripts and in the music Charlie heard.
It was an idyllic day, seventy-three degrees.
It was often hard for Julia to remember the start of summer and how difficult it had been.
But that was when Alana sent her a link that pulled her back to earth.
The link was a social media video of a young Italian woman who said, with frank ease, her eyes directed to the screen, “Lucia Colombo stole the identity of the real CAT. I know this to be true because I know the identity of the real CAT. I also know how Lucia stole what she stole. If Lucia herself doesn’t come forward and say what she did, I will give the full details about Lucia’s past.” And then, she directed her words to Lucia herself.
“Lucia, I know you came from a difficult past. I know how hard it’s been for you.
But don’t drag CAT’s name through the mud.
Don’t taint this beauty. Don’t claim something that isn’t yours to claim. ”
Julia half expected Elena to say something like, “And don’t ruin Julia’s publishing house.” But she didn’t, and Julia couldn’t blame her. At its core, this story wasn’t about the publishing house.
Already, the video had been seen by hundreds of thousands of people, people who’d been following the CAT and Lucia Colombo and publishing house drama from the start. Plenty of people were sounding in with their opinions, saying that Elena sounded convincing in her threats.
Some said they hoped that Lucia wouldn’t come forward, so that Elena would be forced to reveal what was really going on behind the scenes.
Most people assumed that was what would happen since Lucia hadn’t been heard from in so long.
It had been weeks since the Bulgarian who’d been arrested in Nantucket had been released, as they couldn’t very well keep him without evidence.
Julia couldn’t believe Elena had really done this. Before they pulled the anchor, Charlie and Julia watched the video again and again, speculating on what would happen next.
Nicole called a few minutes later and said what Julia was already thinking. “This is good. It can only be good for us. I’m going to call that lawyer Susan Sheridan. Maybe she has an idea of how we can work this to our advantage and get some of our money back.”
“But we need Lucia to come forward,” Julia said.
“Probably,” Nicole said with a weary sigh. “Gosh, it’s been a heck of a summer, huh?”
It truly had.
Julia and Charlie returned home and considered making dinner before calling for takeout. Julia paced the living room with a slice of pizza in her hand, refreshing her social media, hoping for some word from Lucia. But night fell, and she slept, only to wake up to no change.
It wasn’t till the following evening that Lucia made a brief yet tear-soaked statement online.
“My name is Lucia Colombo, and last year, I reached out to Julia Copperfield’s publishing house about publishing a memoir about my life as the famous muralist CAT.
The only problem with that idea was, well, that I am not CAT. I never was.”
Julia couldn’t believe it. She’d done it! She nearly threw her phone in shock.
Lucia continued, “Elena is right, in that I tainted the history of a wonderful artist.”
“You’re only coming forward because you don’t want us to know the truth about you!” Julia cried, her heart leaping. But of course, Lucia couldn’t hear her.
“It goes without saying that other people were working with me on this,” Lucia said, her eyes darkening.
“My ex-boyfriend played a pivotal role in my false identity, and he pushed me to become what I’ve become.
I would like to apologize to Elena, Julia, and the entire city of Positano, my hometown.
I have always been wayward. I have always been broken.
But I know it’s time to tell the truth.”
Julia waited, her heart feeling squeezed, until Lucia cut the video. A part of her had been petrified that Lucia would say the real name of CAT and destroy Elena’s hope to maintain her mother’s privacy. But Lucia had stayed mum.
In the hours that followed, the internet was aflame with conversation about Lucia, CAT, and Elena.
There were theories about CAT’s identity that ran the gamut from Elena’s childhood friends to Lucia’s cousins to various members of Positano’s artistic society.
A few people cited Alessandra, of course, but because almost everyone believed this year’s CAT mural wasn’t a copycat, her name was ruled out.
The mystery prevailed long after Alessandra’s death.
Of course, Julia’s publishing house disaster was far from over.
Lucia’s identity and location were soon discovered, and a lawsuit was set in motion, but Susan Sheridan maintained that such matters could take years to resolve.
Julia tried to keep her head above water.
She ached, remembering the wild goose chase of the summertime, knowing that it was perhaps one of the greatest times of her life.
Maybe soon she’d have to declare bankruptcy and part ways with her clients.
Perhaps it was time to focus on other things. Pivot, as Alana liked to say.
But three months after her return from Europe, Julia received a gift of one hundred thousand dollars in her account, more than enough to get her through the rest of the year and beyond. The attached message read: Thank you for keeping her spirit alive.
Julia had only one guess as to the identity of the benefactor.
When she looked Elena up, she realized that Gregor had already done the improbable.
He’d sold many of Elena’s paintings to some of the high-roller art collectors in Europe, Australia, and the United States, making Elena a household name in the same way CAT was.
Julia knew that Alessandra would have wanted her daughter’s name to fly high, while she remained in the shadows. That was what it meant to be a mother.