Chapter 45: Chapter 45

Two months later…

Nervous energy percolated through Ella’s veins as she sat in the back of the limousine, trying not to wring her hands. This was it--the night she’d been waiting for ever since she’d returned to California. She may have snuck into the state in secret, but tonight, every eye would be on her, by design.

She’d never been one for the spotlight. She preferred using her graphic skills to highlight other famous people, rather than having everyone stare at her. Yet, sitting in the limo, dressed in a fabulous red, sparkly gown that reached the floors, save for the slit that went so high up her thigh it left little to the imagination, she was ready to make her grand entrance. If she was actually going to pull off the plan she and Fae had come up with, she had to launch herself into this project fearlessly, and that included walking into the gallery tonight the returning queen, the victor, not the frightened girl who had easily been tricked into staying in an attic rather than facing the world at large.

She was ready, too. Rome had been schooling her in the art of commanding a room, giving her acting lessons, helping her become Juliet Montague, the powerful art mogul who would bring Los Angeles and the rest of the world spectacular pieces unlike anything they’d ever seen before. They’d get a taste tonight at the grand opening of her new art studio, Montage, a name Fae had helped her settle on. Most of the pieces waiting to be unveiled were Fae’s long lost paintings, but they’d also worked together to find some promising new artists who were sure to catch the eyes of the collectors who’d be in attendance that night. No one would dare miss the return of Fae Ward to the art scene after all. Juliet had a few pieces of her own intermingled amongst the rare Wards and the up and coming finds, pieces she’d poured her heart into as Fae worked with her to hold her brush a certain way and bring the canvas to life in ways Ella had never imagined possible.

The car slowed for a red light, and Ella tried to calm her nervous fidgeting. Juliet wouldn’t be nervous. She’d be ready to part the crowd with her mere existence. The chances of her being recognized as Ella Sinders by anyone in attendance that evening were low, although she’d been sure to invite a special guest, one she was hoping to leave an impression on. Her hair was different. Her skin tone was different, thanks to many days spent on the beach. She had on colored contacts that transformed her eyes into a lavender shade that she would argue was her natural color should anyone be so bold as to ask, and she’d put on ten pounds of muscle over the last several weeks as well, making her body shape different from Lloyd Sinders’s frail daughter who never got a ray of sunlight on her pale face. More than anything, she was certain she could fool anyone who might ask the question through her change in persona. Ella Sinders had been timid and weak; Juliet Montague was bold and fierce.

It had been Fae who’d given her the ability to walk into that room and fool everyone. Like the fairy godmother she was named for, Fae had built up Ella’s confidence. If she hadn’t found those paintings, she might still be cowering in the corner somewhere. Now, she was willing to face her enemies head on.

It was too bad Fae wouldn’t be attending. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to; she said she would’ve loved to come. But at her age, crowds this large were potentially dangerous to her health, and the nursing home had regulations about how late their residents could stay out. Even for something like this, Fae didn’t ask for an exception. Rather, she said she’d watch the virtual show online. Ella would be livestreaming the event on her website, which was already seeing over two million visitors a day, thanks to her marketing campaign.

Montage was more than an art gallery--marketing was also a focus for the company, though Ella was playing that off for now, just to make sure there were no questions about her identity. When Rome had announced he was investing in the up and coming company, he’d said he’d found a graphic designer whose skill reminded him of his late wife, so he’d decided to invest in Montage, becoming a full partner. There were rumors about whether or not he was dating the artist in question, but no one even knew who Juliet Montague was at the moment. That would change as soon as she arrived at the show.

Through the tinted windows, it was difficult to see exactly where they were, but Ella had a feeling they were getting close. She took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm herself. Rome was already there, and she was looking forward to seeing him, but she’d have to remember they were just business associates. She didn’t want anyone to think that they were a couple, not only because it might make people suspicious of her true identity but also because there was someone else she planned to pull into her web of deceit. With any luck, he had already arrived at the event as well.

The car pulled to a stop, and a few seconds later, her door came open. This was it--her big moment. The red carpet reached the curb, so she’d be stepping directly onto it. Ella steeled herself and remembered she was Juliet Montague now, fearless and unflinching. She took the valet’s hand and let him help her stand up on her high stiletto, silver heels. A thousand flashbulbs went off in her face. People shouted her name. Ella lowered her dark glasses slightly to look over the top of them, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t have time for any of these foolish people. She had a show to attend, impressions to make, art to sell, hearts to steel, and a nation to fool. She did give a small wave in the direction of a cluster of younger people pushing to the front of the paparazzi, clearly fans wanting to get a look at her. That she would allow.

Ella kept her chin held high as she walked into the event, tucking her silver handbag under her arm, letting the lights catch her shimmering gown and all of the jewels she was wearing. She imagined she was a work of art herself, not a subtle seascape, but a beautiful, bejeweled mosaic.

The door was pulled open for her, and she walked into the gallery. Immediately, the crowd of three hundred invited guests, ones she’d taken great pains to select, erupted in applause. Ella tried to look demure while still staying confident as she waved and thanked them all, remembering the role Rome had ingrained in her brain. They’d practiced this, assuming the show would be a hit.

She was bombarded with people who wanted to speak to her, to get a word with her, to make an offer on a specific piece. Ella took her sunglasses off and placed them into her bag, waving off those who wanted a piece of her time. “Please, darling, you’ll have to speak to Tucker about that,” she said over and over again, gesturing at the assistant she’d hired a few weeks ago, a man in his mid-thirties who was well-versed in current trends in the art world. He’d come at a hefty price, but he was already proving himself worth it as he steered the crowd away from her. “Where’s my drink?” Ella shouted in the direction of her personal assistant, a woman named Kinsley who had also come highly recommended by one of Rome’s actor friends. She scurried off, and Ella surveyed the crowd. There weren’t too many people there that she actually did want to talk to--but she saw two of them.

Rome commanded the room, or at least he had, until she’d made her entrance. She could tell by the way the people were situated around him, all of their bodies facing toward him, only their heads turned in her direction. A pang of jealousy hit her in the stomach at the site of the blonde actress on his arm. It really wasn’t fair that Carry Carmichael had no idea Rome was still married and that his wife had just walked into the room. For all she knew, he’d asked her out because he was interested in her, not because she made a good diversion.

The other person she wished to speak to was there because Rome had invited him as part of their alleged truce. Set to start filming the first of his ten movies in a few weeks, Rome had decided it was time to extend the olive branch--or at least, that’s what he’d said when he’d made the phone call. Of course, neither Rome nor Ella was truly ready to forgive and forget, but if their plan was to work, he had to think they were. Henry Caron stood near a sculpture Ella had acquired from an up and coming artist in the Midwest, a piece entitled, “Revenge of the Betrayed,” which featured a smiling nude woman with a dagger behind her back. It was fitting in ways Henry would’ve never guessed as he gazed at Ella from across the room.

If he had any idea who he was truly looking at, his expression did not give it away. He had that smirk on his face, the one that most women found appealing; the one that made Ella nauseated. She pretended not to be looking at him because it was too soon. She couldn’t simply walk into the event and make a beeline for a man she’d never met. He’d have to come to her. There was no doubt in her mind that he would.

Ella began what Rome called, “Flittering around the room.” He’d schooled her well. “Give each of them a small taste of who Juliet Montague is, but not enough. Not so much that they feel they know you. Keep the mystery there so they’ll be longing to come back for more.” It had made perfect sense to her, and as she breezed from one conversation to another, she did her best to keep the mystique, and keep her eyes off of Rome, which was more of a struggle than she’d previously recognized.

Making her way from one group to another, it became clear the show was a success. Many of the pieces already had bids placed on them. The strategy to make it more of an auction than a sale had paid off. Tucker and his team were doing a marvelous job of keeping the interested parties apprised of the going prices, and it was certain most of Fae’s pieces were going to bring in well north of a million dollars apiece. Even Juliet’s paintings were going for hundreds of thousands of dollars, as were several of the pieces from unknown artists. The money she made tonight would mostly go back into the business, save the portion she’d insisted on putting back for Fae’s great-grandchildren. One way or another, Fae would benefit from her work. After this, Montage would be squarely on the map, and Ella would have plenty of work to keep her busy while she scouted out fresh new artists and more work from the ones on display tonight--including Fae, who’d agreed to give her a few more pieces because Ella had inspired her to start painting again.

After an hour or so of making small talk with so many people there was no way Ella would be able to keep all of their names straight, she finally found herself in exactly the location she’d been waiting for all night, standing right next to Henry Caron in a secluded part of the showroom.

He was sizing her up from a few feet away. Slowly, Ella raised her champagne glass to her lips and took a sip, waiting for him to come closer. She could tell by his expression that he wanted to, and he had no idea of her true identity. “I’m not one of the pieces of artwork,” she said, looking at him coyly through her eyelashes. If it hadn’t been for Rome’s training in how to present herself to this beast, she might’ve lost her cool and screamed in his face--or maybe thrown up on those expensive Salvatore Ferragamo dress shoes.

“I know you’re not,” he said, smugly pressing both hands into the pockets of his slacks. “But you could be.” He was wearing a Brioni suit that probably cost as much as a small car. Ella wasn’t impressed, though. He might cut a fetching form on the outside, but she knew his heart was black as sin.

Offering him her hand, as if it wouldn’t cause her skin to crawl at his touch, she said, “I’m Juliet.”

“I know. Henry Caron,” he said, lifting her knuckles to his lips. The graze of his mouth along her skin had bile rising in the back of her throat. She fought it, catching Rome’s eyes from his spot far across the room. He looked as irritated as Ella felt, but she knew he wouldn’t interfere, unless she signaled for him to. Which she wouldn’t. She had to do this or else everything would be for not.

“Caron, you say? I’ve never heard of you.” She withdrew her hand, crossing that arm under the one holding her champagne flute in front of her lips. She took another sip, studying him over the rim, as if she’d never seen him before.

Henry chuckled at her comment. “You’re refreshingly honest, Miss Montague. I am a film producer. I just acquired Verona Cinema Productions. Perhaps you’ve heard of that?”

Ella nodded. “Oh, yes. I am familiar with the Veronas. Have you met Rome?” She gestured at her husband across the room with the tip of her glass, as if he was also just an acquaintance.

“I have met him,” Henry said, his eyes flickering over his shoulder, a bored expression taking over for an instant, before his eyes were back on her. “Tell me, where have you been hiding all of these years?”

Ella laughed. “I’ve hardly been hiding. It takes time for people to make a name for themselves, as I’m sure you’re learning now. Until I met Mrs. Ward, I was like half the starving artists whose work fills this room. She discovered me. I discovered them. It’s just… I know how to present artwork in a shiny package that makes everyone realize how desperately they need it.” The words sounded so fake coming out of her mouth. If she were a bystander, she’d be sick at the presentation Juliet Montague was making. But she wasn’t Ella anymore, and Juliet needed to be strong and bold, to grasp the recognition Ella would’ve shrugged off.

It was working. Henry was intrigued. “Perhaps you and I could meet over coffee or drinks at some point and discuss what we can do for each other? I understand you are in marketing as well as art, and I could use a good marketer. I have several films scheduled for release in the next year.”

Staring at him for a moment, Ella left him in suspense. Then, slowly, she let a smile spread across her face. “I would like that very much.” She rattled off a phone number she’d gotten specifically for him and watched as Henry saved the number in his cell phone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other guests to mingle with.” She gave him a softer smile than the one she’d been flashing earlier, patted him on the arm in a way that suggested that perhaps she’d be open to more contact later, and then walked away, keeping her back to him so that he wouldn’t see the look of disgust she was sure was claiming her face.

Across the room, she caught Rome’s eyes and winked at him, their signal so he’d know everything had gone as planned. She hadn’t even approached him in public that evening for fear someone might start to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She didn’t go near him now, either. Instead, she crossed to her favorite piece of the collection, other than Fae’s. This was a painting she’d done herself, the meaning of which would be lost on anyone who didn’t know the secrets hidden in the artwork.

It was a self-portrait of sorts, though the girl in the painting didn’t really look like her. She wore a bright red dress and reclined on a slab of stone, leaning up on one elbow. Her hair was a darker brown than Ella’s had ever been, her eyes a shade that looked nothing like Ella Verona’s or Juliet Montague’s, and it would’ve been easy for even the toughest of art critics to mistake the slab for a bed. The piece was publicly titled, “Emerging,” and whenever anyone asked, Juliet would simply say it was a piece that captured what it was like to suddenly have the spotlight shining on even the darkest corners of one’s life. But in her mind, the title was, “Girl From the Tomb.” This image captured the moment when Ella Verona had begun her transformation into Juliet Montague, how she’d overcome death and transformed herself into something else, like a caterpillar breaking through the chrysalis to reveal the butterfly.

“It’s beautiful,” a familiar voice said over her shoulder. “Just like you.”

Ella didn’t turn to look at her husband, who hadn’t seen the painting before that night. “Thank you,” she said. “Life is beautiful.” She gave him a subtle smile and then walked away, leaving him behind her. That’s where she’d need him to be for a while--in the shadows, supporting her without anyone truly knowing the depth of their relationship. Ella Verona might be the girl from the tomb, but Juliet Montague was the girl on the beach, the one who would burst into the lives of all of these fancy rich people, take their breath away, and their money, and put her life back in order the way it should’ve been before the Veronas, Sinders, and Carons came along to mess it up.

With a confident smile on her face, Ella crossed the room to speak to another group of adoring fans, wondering what this new chapter of her life would bring, confident that her love for Rome and her drive to success would make it impossible to stop her.