Chapter Eighteen Hermes #2
“I can’t believe the museum can hold a party like this, out under the open skies!” Julia accepted the champagne that Hermes handed her, still looking around with wide eyes. “What if it rained?”
“I’m sure they had an inclement weather plan,” Hermes remarked, though in truth, the Met never had inclement weather for events like this. Such were the perks of boasting a goddess as your major underwriter, even if the Met had no idea who Hera really was.
“Why don’t we go mingle,” Hermes suggested. “This is a great opportunity to meet some of the city’s top art collectors. Speaking of which, how’s the new job?”
“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I love it so far,” Julia said eagerly.
“My boss, Lucy, says I can pitch new exhibitions to her soon. I’ve already found the first artist I want the gallery to carry.
An artist upstate who goes by the name of Lantern.
He makes these incredible oil paintings, in the style of the Impressionists, but with updated subject matter… .”
Hermes smiled despite himself. There was something so contagious about Julia’s excitement, a warmth to her that felt both vulnerable and achingly human. He could see why Ares had been drawn to her.
If only someone would upgrade her wardrobe, he thought with a mournful glance at her black shift dress and black heels.
Dressed like that, Julia looked like she was interviewing to be an executive assistant, or worse, attending a funeral.
Hermes wondered if she’d watched that Sex and the City episode about the little black dress—though come to think of it, Julia seemed more likely to have gotten the idea from Holly Golightly than Carrie Bradshaw.
Either way, someone needed to tell her that one simply didn’t wear black in the summer.
At least not among these sorts of people, in their flowy skirts and vibrant silk dresses.
Hermes stood to attention as a balding man and his diamond-clad wife drew near. Arthur Gordon, founder of a multibillion-dollar hedge fund, and his wife, Allison, a friend of Hera’s.
“Percy, it’s good to see you!” Allison hugged Hermes the way Tara did, with only half her attention. Then she looked quizzically at Julia. “And you are…”
“This is Julia Dodds, Harry Ellene’s fiancée. She works at Lucy Keller’s gallery downtown.” Hermes saw Julia flinch at the introduction and belatedly realized why. He’d given her romantic credentials first and mentioned her job as an afterthought.
Well, she had better get used to it. These people would value her association with the Ellenes far more than her little gallery job.
Allison’s face lit up with curiosity. She stared baldly at Julia, taking in her sad black dress, her lack of real jewelry. “You’re the girl Harry met! We’ve all been wondering about you! Arthur, this is the woman Tara’s son is marrying,” she explained, elbowing her husband.
“I see.” Arthur shrugged and took a sip of his Negroni, a cocktail that the museum had begun serving at these events specifically because it was his favorite.
Allison looked back to Julia. “Please tell Tara how disappointed I am that we won’t make the engagement party in London. We have a wedding that same weekend in Carmel.”
Hermes could see from Julia’s expression that she hadn’t realized the Gordons were invited to her engagement party. He doubted she knew most of the names on the guest list.
He started to answer, but Julia beat him to the punch.
“I’m sure Carmel is lovely this time of year,” Julia exclaimed. “Do you have a home there, or will you be staying at the lodge?”
You had to hand it to Julia: She might not have dressed the part, but she sure as hell knew what to say.
Allison stared at Julia as if trying to take the measure of her. “We have a house on Seventeen Mile Drive, though we’re members at the lodge, of course,” she said slowly. “Julia, you work at a gallery? What do you think of all these sculptures?”
Julia nodded to the closest one, a multifaceted white sphere. “I think this might be my favorite. Did you know that it’s made of aluminum originally intended for automobiles? It’s such a lovely meditation on the different paths life can take, how there are multiple ways to the same destination.”
“And here I thought it looked like a giant golf ball,” Allison replied, making a face.
“I like that interpretation,” Julia replied without missing a beat. “But only if it’s the golf ball that won the Masters.”
Arthur surprised them all by choking out a laugh. Allison stared at her husband in surprise, then turned back to Julia. “It’s nice to have someone else here who knows about art. I always have to drag Arthur to these things. He never takes art seriously enough!”
“Art is too serious to be taken seriously,” Julia quipped in reply. When they all stared at her, she smiled pleasantly. “I’m afraid I can’t take credit. That’s an Ad Reinhardt quote.”
For once, Allison seemed at a loss for words. She murmured something in reply, then tugged her husband away, still staring at Julia over her shoulder.
Hermes waited until they were across the party before elbowing Julia. “Look at you, putting Allison Gordon in her place with a one-liner! And what was that nonsense about the aluminum being sourced from cars?”
“That’s true,” Julia told him. “I downloaded the exhibit guide before we came.”