Life is Beautiful

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.