Page 41 of Ungodly Rich

Julia nodded. “I’ve been living abroad since graduation. I was in the Mediterranean for a while, leading group tours for American visitors. Then I spent two years in Queenstown.”

“I lived abroad after college myself, in Vienna. There’s nothing like it,” Lucy said fondly. “What brings you to New York?”

“I’ve just moved here. Actually…” Julia hesitated. “I’m looking for a job. I was wondering if you knew of anyone who might be hiring?”

“In the art field?”

Julia hesitated. She’d called Abby for advice the other day, and her best friend had agreed that Julia needed to be up front with her former professor. What if Lucy called Harvard to check her academic record?

“Yes, in the art world,” Julia agreed. “When I took your seminar, I was prelaw—”

“Oh, I remember,” Lucy cut in, smiling. “Undergrad students who are prelaw don’t usually take Art 580: Romanticism and the Sublime.”

“I didn’t end up going to law school. There was an issue with my applications….”

Lucy looked at her sympathetically. “An allegation of plagiarism, right?”

“You heard about that?” Julia asked, startled.

The art dealer nodded. “I’m still in touch with the university art department. I asked them about you, because I was curious what you were up to. They told me some story about how you’d copied an essay from a boyfriend.”

“It’s not true,” Julia began, and her professor waved a hand, silencing her.

“I know. Julia, you wrote the most original and thought-provoking essays I ever had the privilege of grading. I take it he wasn’t the best boyfriend, was he?” she added softly.

“Not at all.” Talk about an understatement.

“I don’t want to excuse his behavior, because what he did was wrong, but perhaps it’s for the best that you aren’t a lawyer. You belong in the art world, not drafting contracts.” Lucy studied Julia, her head tilted. “So, what made you move to New York?”

Julia couldn’t bear to say that she had come here for a man, not after she’d just spoken of Preston. At least her engagement ring didn’t have an enormous diamond in the center, as Tara had wanted. Even so, Julia folded her right hand over her left, so that only her mother’s ring showed.

“I was starting to feel adrift in Queenstown,” she said truthfully. “I missed being close to art. Though I still worked as a tour guide, leading groups on the Milford Sound, it was nothing like the feeling of introducing people to the Acropolis. And I missed my family. They’re in Georgia,” Julia added, “but at least this way I’m closer to them.”

Lucy nodded sagely. “It gets hard after a while, being an American expat. I remember waking up one day in Vienna with an overwhelming homesickness for ranch dressing. The real, bottled Hidden Valley Ranch. That was when I knew it was time to come home.”

“It was Sour Patch Kids for me,” Julia said with a smile. She hesitated, not wanting to push, but then asked, “What do you think? Would you be willing to put me in touch with anyone who might be hiring?”

“No,” Lucy pronounced.

Julia’s heart sank. Of course. She didn’t exactly have a ton of experience in the art world—she doubted many gallery owners or dealers would consider her time at Elysian Cruise Lineworking in art—andworse, she’d been accused of fraud. Even if Lucy believed her, she couldn’t put her name and reputation on the line for a random former student.

“I’d like you to come work here. For me,” Lucy finished.

“Here?” Julia repeated, blinking in surprise.

“As you can see, I’m in dire need of organizational help.” Lucy gestured around the cluttered office. “I can’t pay much in the way of a salary, but I am generous on sales commissions. You said you worked as a tour guide, right?” Lucy smiled. “Hopefully that gave you some experience in dealing with difficult people. Selling art is not for the faint of heart. And as much as I hate to say it, we must take the measure of every customer and adjust our prices accordingly. Now, when can you start?”

• • •

When Julia walked out of the office, she was startled to see Harry waiting on the street—studying a painting through the window, hands clasped behind his back, as if he’d heard that was the correct way to look at art.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out.

“I wanted to see how your meeting went. Well, I take it?” he asked, matching her smile.

“Lucy offered me a job!”

Harry pulled her into a hug, right there in the middle of the sidewalk, ignoring the irritated glances of the people who pointedly stepped around them. “Of course she did!” he said loyally. “She’d be a foolnotto hire you.”