Rory let out a sigh, like the air going out of a tire. “I thought you were serious.”
“I am serious. I was serious the last time I said it too. You remember, don’t you?”
Rory did remember, but she’d chalked it up to kindness. “But they’re not . . . They don’t belong here, next to all of this.”
“Oh, ma pêche. Don’t you see? This is exactly where they belong. This woman backing out wasn’t an accident. It was precisely what was supposed to happen.”
“But it’s only five pieces for an entire wall.”
“Perfect,” Camilla said firmly. “They’ll have room to breathe.”
Rory turned to look at her in astonishment. “You think I should do it?”
“I do. Soline is right, sweetheart. This is what’s supposed to happen.”
“But you always said—”
“Forget what I said. I should have encouraged you a long time ago, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But I’m encouraging you now. Not because you’re in a pinch. Because your work is beautiful and original and belongs on these walls. Please say you’ll do it. Or that you’ll at least think about it.”
Rory managed a smile, touched by this unexpected declaration, but she didn’t need to think about it. She had enough on her plate without the pressure of wondering how her work would be received when seen side by side with real artists.
“Well, you’ve had the tour, unless you want to see upstairs.”
Camilla shot Soline a wink as she hooked an arm through Rory’s. “Actually, Soline and I have a surprise for you.”
Rory wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. She’d had enough surprises for one week. “What kind of surprise?”
“Really, Aurora, stop being so suspicious. It’s a good surprise. We promise.”
Up front, Soline retrieved a Neiman Marcus shopping bag from beside the door and handed it to Rory. “For you,” she said with a catlike smile. “From both of us.”
Rory carried the bag to the front counter and removed a large, flat box. Her breath caught as she lifted the lid, revealing a suit of claret-colored silk. It was cut like a tuxedo, with black velvet lapels and a single-button closure. She stared at the label. Valentino.
“This must have cost a fortune.” She ran a hand along one velvet lapel. “It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s for the opening,” Soline told her. “Unless you’ve already purchased something.”
Rory shook her head as she folded the suit back into the box. “I hadn’t given it another thought, actually.”
Camilla threw her head back with one of her tinkling laughs. “You see? I told you. She’s never given any thought to clothes. When she was little, dressing up for Halloween meant shoulder pads and a helmet or a conductor’s hat and overalls. Never a princess or a fairy like the other little girls. And now look at her . . .” She broke off, blinking rapidly, as if caught off guard by her emotions. “All grown up and an artist with her very own gallery.” Her fingers crept to the strand of pearls at her throat, twisting awkwardly. “You had a dream, and you chased it. Not many can say that, but you can, and I’m happy for you. You deserve this, Rory.”
It was Rory’s turn to be caught off guard. Not Aurora . . . Rory. That was new.
“Thank you,” she said thickly. “Thank you to both of you. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that you’ll both be at the opening.”
“Just try and keep us away.” Camilla leaned in to drop a kiss on her cheek. “We’re off to lunch now and then a little shopping. Soline’s going to help me pick out a pair of boots. I’m thinking suede.”
Rory walked them out, lingering in the doorway until they had melted into the crowd of pedestrians along Newbury Street. Lunch and boot shopping. That was new too.
Rory was exhausted by the time she got home. She’d spent the rest of the afternoon on the phone trying to find an artist to fill Dheera Petri’s wall. Of the five artists she’d managed to reach, four said they’d be able to ship a piece or two in time for opening night, but none would be available to attend the opening on such short notice. It was looking like she’d have to settle for a selection of one-offs rather than a single collection. Unless she went with Soline’s suggestion.
She padded down the hall and flipped on the light in the spare room. Her eyes went immediately to the piece hanging behind the desk, the towering granite lighthouse standing defiant in a storm. It was the largest of all her pieces and one of her best. The four in the closet would make a total of five. She pulled them out, lining them up side by side. It might work until she found another collection to replace it. She just needed one more piece for balance.