Chapter 6 - THE GALA OF LIES
The Hartwell Foundation's annual gala filled the Grand Ballroom of the Blackstone Hotel with flowers, candlelight, and four hundred guests.
Chicago's wealthiest donors mingled with museum directors, artists, politicians, and corporate executives.
Above the stage hung a portrait of Margaret Hartwell.
Beneath it stood a bronze plaque.
ART BELONGS TO EVERYONE.
Loretta arrived at seven thirty.
She wore a midnight-blue gown with long sleeves and a simple pair of pearl earrings.
No diamonds.
No emeralds.
No bracelet.
Oliver greeted her near the entrance.
"Darling."
He kissed her cheek.
She smiled.
"Welcome home."
He hesitated.
"Thank you."
"How was Minneapolis?"
"Exhausting."
"I'm sure."
He looked at her carefully.
Something in her voice unsettled him.
But before he could ask, Camille appeared.
She wore a fitted silver gown.
Her blond hair fell over one shoulder.
And around her right wrist glittered Margaret Hartwell's bracelet.
Loretta saw it immediately.
For one terrible second, the ballroom disappeared.
She remembered her mother's hospital room.
The smell of antiseptic.
The thinness of Margaret's fingers.
The last time the bracelet had touched her skin.
Then she looked at Camille.
Camille smiled.
"Loretta. You look lovely."
"So do you."
Camille lifted her wrist deliberately.
"Isn't this beautiful?"
Loretta studied the bracelet.
"Extraordinary."
"Oliver has such wonderful taste."
Loretta turned toward her husband.
"Does he?"
Oliver's smile tightened.
Camille continued.
"He said it was a family piece."
Loretta looked at the emeralds.
"Yes."
A pause.
"It is."
Camille's smile faltered.
Loretta gently touched the clasp.
"My mother wore this to her final gala."
The silence that followed was brief.
But Oliver heard it.
Camille heard it.
And Loretta knew they both understood.
She had recognized the bracelet.
Yet she did not cry.
She did not shout.
She smiled.
"Camille, would you do me a favor?"
Camille swallowed.
"What kind of favor?"
"Stay close to the stage tonight."
"Why?"
May you like
Loretta's expression remained warm.
"I have something special planned."
