Chapter Ten Julia
Chapter Ten
Julia
Julia had never seen a party like this, except in the pages of a glossy magazine covering some celebrity wedding.
It felt a bit like a wedding, with long rectangular tables arranged on the lawn.
Gardenias, roses, and calla lilies spilled down the center of each table in glorious profusion, lit by dozens of enormous white tapers.
There was no tent: the tables sat beneath the open skies, offering a spectacular view of the sunset over the water.
Julia wondered if there had been any kind of rain plan, or if the Ellenes simply expected the weather to do their bidding, the way everything else in the world seemed to.
A waiter hovered nearby with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, but Julia didn’t take any.
The so-called cocktail hour had stretched to a second hour, the laughter and conversation growing rowdier as everyone consumed glass after glass of champagne.
Guests drifted about the lawn in maxi dresses that whipped around their ankles, or in sport coats and bow ties.
Even Harry had put on a light blue jacket over his crisp white shirt, with loafers that she hadn’t realized he owned.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Of course,” she assured him, grateful when he reached for her hand.
She normally didn’t wear much jewelry, but this morning when she’d woken up, Julia had put on her mom’s ring.
It was just a plain brass band, nothing at all compared to the diamonds and bangles flashing around her, but wearing it made Julia feel better.
She had the reassuring sense that her mother, Claire, was there with her, reminding Julia of her own strength.
Reminding her not to take shit from anyone. Even billionaires.
“Harry!” Tara bustled toward them, wearing a dramatic dress with elbow-length sleeves. She gestured to the tall, broad-shouldered man at her side. “Can you come help your brother move the iron bench? The string quartet says it’s in their way.”
The words were normal enough on the surface, but there was a frantic energy beneath them that made Julia pause. Weren’t there plenty of other men, not to mention staff, on this island who could move heavy objects?
Julia cast a curious glance at Harry’s brother.
Though she’d met Alina the moment they arrived, she hadn’t yet seen Harry’s other sibling this weekend.
His muscled shoulders strained beneath his sports coat.
He had a close-cropped beard and soft-brown eyes, which were currently fixed on his brother.
“Harry. You’re back,” Hector said slowly.
Julia blinked, startled by the odd greeting. Had Hector not seen Harry since his arrival? Surely he’d run into his brother on the boat earlier?
“I am.” Harry hesitated, then added, “Is that okay?”
“It’s not as if you need my permission.”
There was another moment of awkward silence before Tara cleared her throat expectantly. Hector stepped forward and hugged his brother then, thumping him awkwardly on the back, before quickly stepping aside.
“It’s nice to meet you, Hector. I’m Julia,” she cut in, since he didn’t seem to have noticed her.
Hector turned to her in something like surprise, holding out a hand to shake. His sheer size intimidated her, but there was something warm in his eyes, something that put her at ease. “Julia. I’m so glad you were able to join us.”
Tara put a hand on each of her sons’ shoulders. “Come on, boys,” she chided. “I need help, or the string quartet can’t set up!”
Julia retreated a step. There was no chance she would let Harry’s mom accuse her of being clingy.
“I look forward to chatting more later,” she told Hector, then smiled at Harry.
There was still a strange expression on his face as he mouthed a goodbye and followed his mother and brother across the lawn.
“Can I interest you in a spritz?”
She turned around to see a young man with blond hair and hazel eyes.
He was wearing a pale blue sports coat, ridiculously preppy with its windowpane check pattern, and a belt with a silver H that even Julia recognized as Hermès.
He smiled, lifting his hands in a rueful gesture, an Aperol spritz in each.
“I’m Percy, by the way,” he introduced himself.
“I’m Julia. Harry’s girlfriend.” She accepted the cocktail warily. “I think these are dangerous. I had one the other day and then slept for twenty-four hours.”
“First of all, everything here is dangerous. You can’t blame the spritz.” Percy said it like a joke, but Julia couldn’t help feeling there was truth to his words. “As for your long sleep, I’d blame jet lag.”
She took a very small sip to be polite. Though the spritz was delicious, she didn’t want to pass out again. Apparently, when Harry had come to find her this morning, Julia had moaned, I just want to sleep, let me have what I want! She didn’t even remember saying that.
Harry had hesitated, then left for the yacht without her. She’d still been sleeping when he came back that afternoon and finally shook her awake.
Julia had forced herself to rally, determined to attend the family dinner. Though she was starting to realize that she might have underestimated how many people were included in Harry’s “family.” If only she could download some kind of guide to keep them all straight.
Speaking of which…“I still can’t get Wi-Fi on my phone,” she told Percy. “Isn’t there a network here?”
“It’s pretty spotty. Old house, you know,” Percy said breezily. “Don’t you find it liberating, giving up the doomscrolling of Instagram?”
“It’s not Instagram I’m worried about. It’s my email.”
“Whoever is emailing you, they’ll just have to wait,” Percy replied. There was something antsy about him, something almost unstable. Julia had the odd thought that if you glimpsed him out of the corner of your eye, his outline might shimmer like quicksilver.
She glanced around the gathering again and sighed. “You know, when most people invite you to a family dinner, it’s a table of six. Not a seated dinner for three hundred.”
“I take it Harry didn’t warn you what this weekend would be like?
” Percy wasn’t being cruel—if anything, he sounded sympathetic—but Julia knew he was staring at her dress, a red one she’d bought at a thrift store in Queenstown.
She’d thought it was fashionable until she saw the couture items and expensive jewelry around her.
Julia kept her head high. Her mom always said that a girl could live on three dresses: a white one for summer parties, a black one for winter, and one good option in a solid color.
Pale blue or navy is a safe choice, Claire would muse, zipping up her own blue dress before heading to her job at the local newspaper.
Well, Julia had chosen fire-engine red. She never did learn to play it safe.
“Harry didn’t prepare me for any of it. I’ve lived with him for two years, and the whole time, I had no idea he came from all…this.” She gestured vaguely around them.
“That sounds like Harry.” Percy paused a moment, swirling the ice in his cocktail. “You sound American, but you met him in Queenstown? How did that happen?”
Might as well tell the truth, Julia thought. “I met Harry while I was working on the Elysian Cruise Line. Like I said, I had no idea who he was—he told me his last name was Adams! We ran into each other at a bar, and, you know. The rest is history.”
“You worked on the cruise line,” Percy repeated, with something like disbelief. “Doing what?”
“Leading group tours. I was an art history major in college.”
“Oh, what kind of art did you study? Please, don’t say modern. There are far too many specialists in modern art as it is, all of them clamoring for jobs at Sotheby’s, trying to sell Kusamas and Kehinde Wileys to tech millionaires who can’t tell good art from bad.” Percy shuddered dramatically.
“Not modern. Actually, the opposite,” Julia replied, amused.
“My senior thesis compared depictions of Athena and Ares in ancient Greek vase painting. It’s fascinating, really.
Athena was always shown surrounded by other people, mainly humans.
But Ares was invariably a singular figure on the vase, and he appears so much more infrequently in religious—Sorry,” she added self-consciously, aware that Percy was staring.
“When I went on too long about my thesis, my roommate Abby used to throw a pillow at my head.”
“Save your pillow for a more exciting use,” Percy quipped, but he was still studying her. “I’m just intrigued to meet a classicist in the modern age. Most people think the ancient world is dead and gone.”
“Well, they’re wrong,” Julia declared. “The ancient world has left its fingerprints all over modernity.”
Percy tilted his head. “Tell me, why didn’t you go into academia? You obviously have the brain for it.”
“Art history doesn’t pay the bills.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Julia regretted them. It felt ridiculous to talk about money in front of Harry’s family, who were richer than god.
To her relief, Percy laughed. “Unfortunately, art is an expensive hobby. Almost as bad as polo. Still,” he went on, “I know what we pay tour guides on the cruises. It’s not any better than what you could’ve made as a junior professor.”
“I only took the tour guide job out of necessity. I was supposed to go to law school, but—…” Julia broke off, wondering why she felt the need to explain.
There was just something about Percy. He had a way of setting you at ease, a carefree charm and bright laugh that made you want to reveal pieces of yourself.
“But?” Percy prompted.
“But it turned out that law school wasn’t in the cards for me,” Julia said vaguely.
Law school had been her mother’s own plan, before she got pregnant with Julia and had to drop out.
Julia knew it wasn’t her fault, and yet, she hated that the very fact of her very existence had forced Claire to give up on her dreams. Maybe I’ll go back to law school someday, Claire used to say.
Julia had been a child, then, too young to understand that adults say someday when they mean never.
That was the reason she’d wanted to go to law school. To live the life that her mother had never gotten the chance to.
“Probably for the best that you aren’t a lawyer,” Percy said in a lighthearted tone that didn’t fool Julia. He was giving her space to recover her emotions. “I mean, look at Alina. She always seems so…tired.”
“I like Alina,” Julia protested, wanting to defend Harry’s sister.
Percy chuckled. “Of course you do. Fellow nerds, unite!” His words were affectionate, so Julia didn’t take offense. If anything, she felt oddly pleased that Percy was comfortable teasing her.
“I’m afraid I don’t know many people here,” she admitted. “Can you point out who’s who?”
“I’d love to,” Percy said with relish. “The red-faced man laughing by the bar is Harry’s cousin Dylan.
He used to head the company’s fine wines division, but they had to transfer him to hotels.
Not that his responsibilities have really changed,” Percy added, amused.
“From what I can tell, all he does is visit luxury hotels and go wine tasting.”
“Great work if you can get it,” Julia quipped. She refrained from mentioning her unexpected run-in with Dylan, the impetus that had brought her here.
Percy nodded to a tall, striking man standing next to a wiry, athletic brunette. Neither of them were smiling. “Paul and Diana. They’re twins and only ever hang out with each other. Isn’t that a little weird? Like, you’re not in the womb anymore, find some new friends.”
Julia laughed appreciatively. “There was a pair of twins like that at my high school, but they were identical.”
“Did they do that thing where they dress alike? So creepy!”
Julia started to reply, only to feel Percy tense beside her. “What is it?” she asked.
“Oh, just my uncle Lucian. I’m surprised he came, is all.
He never attends these things.” Percy gestured to a pale man with dark hair who looked to be in his early thirties.
He was dressed as preppily as everyone else, in a seersucker suit.
But there was something imposing about him, something no-nonsense that made Julia suspect he found this party—his own outfit, even—as ridiculous as she did.
She started to ask Percy more but hesitated, feeling the sudden, unmistakable prickle of someone watching her. She turned around slowly.
Staring at her from across the lawn was the most beautiful woman Julia had ever seen.
It almost hurt to look at her, she was so striking, with long blond hair and impossibly symmetrical features. Her perfectly lipsticked mouth was pulled into a frown. And her blue eyes were narrowed on Julia.
“Is it just me, or does that woman hate me?” Julia asked.
“Don’t mind Valentine. She hates everyone,” Percy said quickly.
Most people, when they were caught staring, flushed guiltily and looked away, but not Valentine. She tipped her chin up and held Julia’s gaze, as if daring her to come say hello.
“Is she Harry’s ex or something?” It was the only explanation for Valentine’s behavior.
“What?” Percy sounded shocked. “Why would you say that?”
“Because she’s looking at me like she wants to crush me under those spiky heels of hers.”
“Like I said, she’s never been the most welcoming. She’s married to Harry’s brother. Anyway,” Percy singsonged, in a clear attempt to change the subject, “if you’re ever in New York, you need to come visit. I must show you my Manet.”
“You have a Manet?” It was enough to momentarily distract Julia. “Was it handed down through the family?” She would have heard if a Manet had been on auction recently.
“Nah. I stole it,” Percy said blithely.
Julia stared at him a moment, then burst out laughing. “For a second there I almost believed you!”
The sudden sound of a chime cut through the hum of conversation. A man in a crisp white suit was striking a metal triangle. “Please, find your assigned seats,” he called out.
“Julia!” Harry hurried over. She couldn’t help noticing that he was no longer with Hector. Was it her imagination, or did she pick up on an unexplained tension hanging between the brothers?
“Just in time,” he declared as the chime sounded again. He held out an elbow to escort Julia to the table, and she smiled at him.
As they walked to dinner, Julia swore she could feel the stare of that woman, Valentine, as tangible on her back as a physical touch.