The Daughters by Joanna Philbin

with a rueful chuckle. “If we use a girl who’s not six feet tall and ninety
     pounds and drop-dead gorgeous, people call it ugly modeling! A better word for it is
unique
. And that’s you, Lizzie.” Andrea stepped back from the picture and turned to face her. “None of these people thought they
     could model. None of them thought anyone would want to see them. But people do. And I think they’d want to see you, too. You
     have that
thing
, Lizzie—that kind of face that makes you pay attention. You have the New Pretty.”
    Lizzie stared at her. This woman, who seemed incredibly cool, successful, and with excellent taste in music, thought she was
     beautiful? And wanted to photograph her?
    Carina, as usual, broke the awkward pause. “So what would be the first step?” she asked, sounding as brisk and businesslike
     as an agent.
    “Test shots. We could do them on the street, in the park. Or here in the studio. Wherever you’re most comfortable.” Andrea
     grabbed a card from a stack on a nearby table and handed it to Lizzie. “Here. Talk about it with your mom. See what she thinks.
     I’d be happy to speak to her.”
    Her mother. Suddenly Lizzie heard Natasha’s spiteful voice.
Would you want your mother to think that you turned this into a career opportunity?
    “Can I have one of those, too?” Hudson said.
    “Yeah, me too,” Carina said, walking over.
    She had to say no before this got out of hand. “Thanks, but I don’t think I can,” Lizzie said nicely. “It’s not something
     I want to do. But I wanted to come by and just thank you for the interest.”
    Andrea gave her softest, gentlest smile, as if she were auditioning to replace the Dalai Lama. “Okay, I respect that,” she
     said. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But… just hang on to the card.” She shrugged. “You never know, right?”
    Lizzie didn’t say anything, but Carina and Hudson gave her
are-you-crazy
? looks as Andrea led them to the door.
    “I’m so glad you guys stopped by,” Andrea said, opening the front door. “And if you happen to see a Dean & Deluca guy with
     my lunch out there, send him in.” She put her hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. She had a crooked, but utterly trustworthy smile.
     “Great to meet you, Lizzie. And good luck.”
    Andrea closed the door. For just the briefest second, Lizzie felt a sharp wave of regret.
    “Are you totally insane?” Carina exploded as they walked down the hall. “You were just
discovered
!”
    “And she was so cool!” Hudson exclaimed, almost jumping up and down. “And so talented! Did you see her stuff? How real it
     was?”
    “You guys know I hate cameras,” Lizzie said feebly as she pressed the elevator button.
    “That’s the whole
point
,” Carina emphasized. “This would be like your own personal
Fear Factor
.”
    “Exactly,” chirped Hudson. “This is happening for a reason—to make you grow, to help you get over your issues.”
    “I told you guys what Natasha said,” she replied, giving up on the elevator and opening the door to the stairwell. “Stay away
     from cameras. Lie low. Stay out of trouble.”
    “Your mom would never need to know,” Carina suggested.
    “How?” Lizzie asked as they clomped down the stairs. “How would this
not
get back to her?”
    “There are ways,” Carina hedged. “We’d figure something out.”
    “And what if she did find out?” Lizzie said. “How would I ever do what she does?”
    She knew that Hudson could relate to this, but she was quiet as they reached the lobby and walked back onto the street. Hudson
     never wanted to talk about her potential music career.
    “It’s not like you’d be following in her footsteps,” Hudson finally said as they turned toward the corner. “This is completely
     unlike what she does. You’d be doing your own kind of modeling.”
    Carina put on her Oakleys. “Just do it. What do you have to lose? You could be the next Coco Rochas. Or whatever her name
     is. And I’ll say I