Page 15 of The Imp Act

“Enzo ended up buying my favorite painting,” she continues. “A really striking oil on canvas that reminded me of a storm-tossed sea. I knew right then that I wanted to know him better, so I gave him my number. We went on several dates and had a great time, but honestly, I married him so I could see the painting again.” She winks at Silvio, and he chortles.

“Smart lady,” he says.

Of course, Mother has to do her best to ruin things. “I thought you were in fashion school. Not working in a gallery.”

Noelle smiles placidly. “As it happens, I was doing two things.” I doubt Mother picks up the undertone there, but I hear it and bite back a smile. “I worked part-time to help cover my bills while I was in school. Fashion is my first love, but I appreciate all the arts. Working in the gallery was a wonderful way to earn a paycheck. And I got to meet all sorts of interesting people, like your son.”

How much of this is true? Noelle and I have only known each other for a few months; I don’t know much about her job history or what she did before school. I guess I need to find out more about my wife. But in the meantime, I have to play along.

“Yes,” I say. “I walked in and was immediately drawn to a series of abstracts that reminded me of the sea, just as they did Noelle. As it happened, the only employee in the gallery that afternoon was a stunning brunette with impeccable taste and a wonderful sense of humor. The moment we met, I knew she was the one for me. I never glanced at another woman again.”

It’s not that far from the truth. After that first time with her, when flames danced in my eyes, I knew. Even if she does leave me in June, I don’t think I’ll ever look at anyone else. She’s it for me.

“That’s very romantic,” my sister Sienna murmurs.

“Hmph,” Mother scoffs.

“Dinner is ready,” Noelle says, deftly steering the conversation away from art and romance. “Perhaps we should adjourn to the dining room, and you all can tell me how I did with my first imp feast.”

Once again, I bite my lip to hide my smile. Clever thing. By inviting them to comment on the meal, she’s sidestepping criticism. To say anything negative now, after she so vulnerably asked for feedback, would be hopelessly rude.

I shoot her a look as we all stand, and the twinkle in her eye tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing. Somehow, she’s managed to wrap most of my family around her fingers, same as she did me. Even my prickly aunts are murmuring that the food looks delicious, and I have no doubt it will be as perfect as everything else.

My god, Noelle is impressive. I’m so lucky to have her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ENZO

I have lived with Noelle for months now, and I’ve seen plenty of versions of her, including Nervous Noelle, Sultry Noelle, Aroused Noelle, Stressed Noelle, Compassionate Noelle, and so many others. But until today, I hadn’t seen this version: Giddy Noelle.

She’s excited, running on nerves and caffeine, and singing her way through her final to-do list. Her voice is surprisingly strong and on-key; it seems fashion isn’t her only talent. It is her passion though, that much is clear.

Her first show is tonight, and she’s been breaking her back to get everything ready. I’ve seen sketches here and there, as well as fabric swatches, but I have no idea exactly what she’s come up with. After we got married, she converted one of the spare bedrooms in the penthouse into an office, and that’s where everything has lived. She didn’t exactlyforbidme to go in there, but she didn’t invite me in either. She keeps the door closed nearly all the time, as if she needs to keep that part of her life contained. She claims it has something to do with her artistic temperament.

All I know is that this collection seems to be dominated by the color purple, in all its various shades. I’ve seen fabric in royal purple, lilac, lavender, periwinkle, and more come through our home.

So naturally, when thinking of a congratulations gift to give her, something glittery and impressive, I thought of amethyst, tanzanite, and purple tourmaline. The bracelet I picked for her features all of them, along with little diamonds for extra sparkle. It’s somehow both delicate and glamorous, and it reminds me of her. While I was at the jewelry store, I also snagged a dangly pair of tourmaline earrings that match her eyes, but I’ll save those for another day.

Along with the bracelet, I have an enormous bouquet of pale purple roses, as well as a reservation at my favorite restaurant. It’s a family-owned hole-in-the-wall, and serves the best Italian food I’ve ever had. I know Noelle will love it.

Tonight, I’m going to celebrate my wife in all the ways I know how. I couldn’t be prouder of what she’s accomplished in just a matter of months. I’ve told her that, of course, but I want to make sure she knows it. Showering her with gifts and food is just the start.

She leaves in an hour, and I promised to meet her there. Obviously, I’ll be in the front row, cheering her on, and afterward, I’ll make her feel like the queen she is.

It’s time to show her how I really feel.

ENZO

Rather than going the slick and modern route, Noelle has chosen to hold her first show at the Odeonne, a gilded cupcake of an old building. It’s an ornate classical theater, complete with murals of goddesses painted on the ceiling. It doesn’t have a typical runway, though she worked with a crew to cover the orchestra pit and create a little flared area at the front of the stage where the models can twirl and pose.

It's a small collection, only nine pieces each for women and men. Her focus for this one was eveningwear, extravagant and glamorous. As the models step forward, one by one, Noelle’s talent shines. The variety is stunning; a diaphanous gown follows a sequined one, only for a seductive lace dress to appear next. And yet, there is a sense of cohesion to the grouping. It’s clear to me that Noelle’s gifted hands created each of these elaborate pieces.

When each item has had its moment in the spotlight, and all the models have gathered on stage, Noelle takes her place in the forefront, beaming at the crowd. Those assembled—myself included—rise to their feet, clapping and cheering. It’s probably considered indecorous to give a standing ovation at a fashion show, but I don’t care. She deserved every accolade. And from the glowing smile on her face, I’d say she’s pleased.

She should be. This show was a smashing success. And it’s only the beginning.

NOELLE

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