The Daughters (21 page)

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Authors: Joanna Philbin

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BOOK: The Daughters
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“You were my inspiration board this season,” he said proudly. “The awkward trailblazer. The girl who doesn’t know she’s beautiful.”
He put down the collage and took a deep, meaningful breath. “I want
you
to be the face of Martin Meloy next year. I want you in my clothing ads, my fragrance ads. My accessories ads. Everything.
All over the world.
You
are the face of the moment. And I want it.”

It took a moment for this to sink in.
Her. Lizzie
.
Chia Pet. Muse?

“What do you think?” he asked, crouching forward, as if his entire career depended on her answer.

“I… I would love to,” she said.

“Lizzie,” Katia snapped, breaking Martin’s spell. “What about school?”

“I’m happy to work around her schedule,” Martin replied.

“She’s in
ninth grade
,” Katia reminded him.

“I’m sure she has some free time,” Martin said.

“I have free time!” Lizzie agreed.

“Annalise!” Martin called toward the door. “Can you bring in my book, please?” He turned back to them. “Just so we can take
a look at Dietrich’s schedule. Dietrich Hoeber,” he said to Lizzie. “He’s my photographer. A genius. First we’ll do a fitting
of some of the clothes—I just have a few pieces done—and then we have you do a shoot. Which is why we need to check Dietrich’s
availability.”

“Martin, just hold on a minute—” Katia interjected.

But Martin didn’t seem to hear her. Annalise hurried in carrying an appointment book the size of a small billboard. She opened
it and Martin looked over her shoulder. “Let’s put you down for a fitting tomorrow. Four o’clock. Does that work?”

“That’s not good for me,” Katia said, sounding exasperated. “I have a meeting with my designers.”

“Well, I’d like to get Lizzie fitted as soon as possible so Dietrich can shoot her. He’s leaving for Iceland next week.” Martin
glanced over the schedule again. “Yes, I’m afraid that’s the best time. Of course, if that doesn’t work for you, Lizzie, then
perhaps we can move it.”

“No, it works for me,” Lizzie said.

Katia shot Lizzie a warning look, and Lizzie couldn’t help but notice that her mom’s eyes had gotten frighteningly purplish.

“You know, you don’t
have
to be here for this part, KK,” Martin said, the faintest trace of a smile on his pink lips. “It’s just a fitting. Believe
me, there’ll be
plenty
of people here to supervise.”

Katia glanced from Martin to Lizzie as her face reddened. “Fine,” Katia agreed, but she didn’t sound happy about it.

“Tomorrow at four,” Annalise said, as she scribbled in the book with her red pen.

Katia snatched her purse from the couch. “In that case, I think we should go now. Lizzie has homework.”

“Oh, Lizzie, before you go, I’d like to give you something.”

If he knew that Katia was angry, Martin was pretending not to see it. Instead he strode over to a cabinet, opened the light-colored
wood doors, and pulled out the most gorgeous white handbag Lizzie had ever seen. It was made of a soft, buttery white leather,
quilted on the sides, and strung with shiny silver chains and buckles. There was even a pocket for an iPhone. “I’m calling
it the ‘Lizzie,’ ” he said, handing it to her. “Do you like it?”

She eased the bag onto her shoulder in disbelief. She’d never cared much about bags, but this was probably the most beautiful
thing she had ever seen in her life. “Oh my God. Thank you.”

“Katia, would you like one, too?” Martin asked.

Katia glared at him. “Come on, Lizzie, let’s go,” she said, tugging her by the arm toward the hallway.

Out on the street, Katia’s stilettos struck the cobblestones like thunder. Lizzie lagged behind her for a few minutes, her
new bag slamming against her hip. “Why are you so mad?” she asked.

Her mother wheeled around. “Why am I mad? I felt
completely
ignored up there. It was like I wasn’t even there.”

“Mom, he was talking to me. He asked me a question and I said yes.”

“You said yes?” Katia repeated, rolling her eyes. “You’re
fourteen
!”

“I don’t get it,” Lizzie said. “You’re always kissing and hugging him and pretending to be his best friend. Now you hate his
guts. For what? For wanting me to work with him? Why does that make you so angry?”

“Because he’s a
parasite
, honey!” Katia yelled. “He’s only concerned with making money. Trying to get people to buy his clothes and his perfume and
his bags. He’s part of a giant corporation now. He doesn’t care about your career. He certainly didn’t care about you before
all of this started. And he doesn’t care about how this is going to be for you. He just wants to use you.”

“Isn’t that the point? Isn’t that what modeling is all about?” Lizzie’s voice was getting louder. Tourists coming out of his
store turned to stare.

“I know you feel very special right now, honey,” Katia said carefully, struggling to stay calm. “And that’s wonderful. But
trust me, if you do this, you’re going to be at the mercy of Martin Meloy and his corporation. And as soon this is over, he’ll
find someone else. He’ll use you and move on.”

“But… but…” She felt tears well up in her eyes. “But what’s wrong with that?” she asked. “It’s just a job.”

Katia sighed and twisted one of the diamond studs in her ears. “It won’t just be a job for you, honey,” she said in a softer
voice. “You’re not a traditional model. You can’t just do his campaign and then go pose for Dior or Yves Saint Laurent. You’re
not going to have those options. I don’t want you to burn out before you even begin.” Katia reached out and touched Lizzie’s
cheek. “Don’t you see what’s going on here? He’s capitalizing on your story, too. Think about it—this isn’t happening because
you’re anonymous, Lizzie. It’s because of me. Do you think you’d be in this position if you weren’t my daughter?”

Lizzie felt as if someone had punched her in the chest. She stared at her mother in silence.

On the street, a noisy truck barreled past them. “Katia!” yelled the driver, sticking his head out of the window. “I love
you!”

“Let’s go,” Katia said, heading to the curb where she hailed a cab.

Inside, Katia gave the driver their destination and Lizzie turned toward the window and swallowed her tears. She wouldn’t
give her mother the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She looked down at her new white bag, resting in her lap. Now it seemed
like more of a bribe than a gift.

“Look, it’s just a
fitting
,” Lizzie said thickly. “If it’s a bad scene, I can always say no. Please?
Please?

Katia stared out the window. She took so long to answer that Lizzie wasn’t sure she’d heard her. “Fine,” Katia said, digging
in her bag as her BlackBerry began to ring. “But just the fitting. Until I make up my mind about the rest of this.”

As Katia answered her call, Lizzie clutched the white bag with relief. This wasn’t over yet, and she was going to do everything
she could to make sure this wouldn’t be over. She pulled out her own phone and saw that she had a missed call from Andrea.
She hadn’t told her about Martin Meloy yet. Maybe it was better not to say anything until she knew exactly what was going
on. And then she saw that she had a text from Todd.

NEED TO CANCEL TONIGHT. SORRY. TALK TOMORROW
.

No explanation. No warning. No real apology. And it had been his idea to work together tonight in the first place. What a
complete jerk.

As their cab rattled up the West Side Highway, she decided that Todd Piedmont could wallow in his bad relationship for the
next four years for all she cared. She tossed her phone back into her bag and listened to her mother, chatting with her agent
about her upcoming L’Ete contract. She wished they hadn’t fought, but things were okay. They were more than okay. If Katia
couldn’t be there tomorrow for the fitting, she knew exactly who she’d bring.

chapter 22

“I’ve got one word for Todd Piedmont:
Loo-oo-SER
,” Carina declared the next morning, making an L with her fingers and plastering it onto her forehead. “Who does he think
he is?”

“A Scorpio,” Hudson spat, tying a pink Hermès scarf around her black ponytail and knotting it with outrage. “And he probably
has Pluto in his relationship house.”

“And this after he gave me that book,” Lizzie said, twirling her lacrosse stick in her hand. “Do you guys know how much it’s
worth? A hundred thousand bucks! I looked it up!”

“Well, my dad gives diamonds on the second date,” Carina said, leaning against the gym wall. “Don’t read too much into that.”

Hudson sighed with disgust. “He’s just way too screwed-up, Lizzie. I say move on.”

“Oh, completely. I’m totally over him.” She twirled her stick, watching the woven basket become a blur. “At least he’s not
in school today. Even though I wish I could ignore him.”

“But hey!” Hudson said, nudging Lizzie, her green eyes suddenly alive again. “You’re the new face of Martin Meloy! That’s
like the biggest deal in the world. Is your mom gonna be there today?”

“No, she can’t go,” Lizzie said, unsure how to explain the fight with Katia. Though they’d somewhat made up in the cab, they’d
avoided each other the rest of the night, until her mom and dad went out to dinner. “She’s not that into it. We sorta had
a big fight about it.”

Carina stopped scratching a mosquito bite. Hudson leaned against the wall and bit her lip. She had their full attention now.
“What’s her problem with it?” Carina asked.

“That he’s
using
me,” Lizzie said, using air quotes.

“What does that mean?” Hudson asked.

Lizzie shrugged. “I don’t really know.”

“You did say the guy could be fake,” Carina reminded her.

“But that’s not a reason to keep me from working for him,” Lizzie countered.

“Then, like I said before, maybe she’s jealous,” Carina said, practicing cradling with her stick.

“No. She said I wasn’t a ‘traditional’ model. That I wouldn’t be able to keep working after this because my unusual look would
be overexposed. It’s like she thinks he’ll turn me into some kind of freak and then I’ll never work again.” Lizzie looked
down at her untied shoe. “Nice, huh?”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t do it,” Hudson warned, flipping her lacrosse stick from hand to hand. “She
does
have experience with this. And is it really worth screwing things up with your mom? You guys are getting along so well.”

“But it’s not fair. I’m her kid. She should be happy for me.”

“I’m sure she
is
,” Hudson assured her. “But she just doesn’t want you to get in over your head. Hey, you’re lucky,” she said, stretching her
quad muscle. “If this were my mom, she’d be on the phone with Anna Wintour right now, screaming at her to put me on the cover
of
Vogue
.”

“Summers!” yelled Ms. Donovan, Chadwick’s permanently irritated gym teacher. “You’re up!”

Lizzie reluctantly stepped to the head of the line. Ms. Donovan threw her a ball with her own stick and Lizzie was so distracted
from Hudson’s advice that she almost missed it. If Hudson, the most fashion-crazed person she knew, thought that being Martin
Meloy’s “muse” was a sticky idea, then maybe it was.

When she returned to the back of the line she found herself behind Sophie Duncan and Jill Rau, who leaned against the wall
in deep gossipy conversation as usual.

“She must have been
so
mad,” Sophie whispered, pushing her glasses up her nose. “It’s kind of awesome.”

“And I heard she
really
bitched him out,” Jill added. “That’s why he isn’t in school today.”

Lizzie perked up her ears. Trying to be discreet, she stepped a little closer.

“I just can’t believe he
cheated
on her,” Sophie marveled. “I mean, nobody has ever done that.”

“I kind of think it makes him hotter,” Jill added. “If that’s possible.”

“Who are you guys talking about?” Lizzie asked, casually leaning against the wall beside them.

Jill exchanged a proprietary look with Sophie, as if she wasn’t sure Lizzie had earned the right to hear the news. “Todd and
Ava broke up,” she said flatly. “She dumped him.”

The lacrosse stick almost fell out of Lizzie’s hands. “What? How do you know?”

“Ilona and Cici were talking about it in homeroom,” Jill added confidently, producing a tube of lip gloss from the pocket
of her gym shorts. “He cheated on her.”

“He
did
?”

Jill patted the gloss on her lips and looked at Lizzie closely. “Yep. He hooked up with some other girl at a party. And Ava’s
really upset,” she said, sounding a little too gleeful about this. Then she narrowed her eyes at Lizzie. “Do you like him
or something?”

“No,” Lizzie said quickly. “Of course not.”

The line moved up again, and Sophie and Jill went back to talking about Zac Efron. Lizzie leaned against the cold wall of
the gym. Todd was a
cheater
? It didn’t sound right. Ken Clayman? Of course. Eli Blackman? Definitely. But Todd? Insecure, mixed-up Todd?

But when she thought about the way he’d acted with her, it all made sense: his flirting, his mixed messages, the way he’d
hooked up with Ava so quickly after that night on the roof. Lizzie suddenly felt sick. Hudson had been right all along. He
was a player.

“Sounds like they deserve each other,” Carina remarked later, buttoning her kilt in the locker room.

“See?” Hudson said, brushing out her hair. “This all worked out for the best. He’s just as bad as we thought.”

“You dodged a bullet,” Carina put in.

“Yeah, seriously,” Lizzie agreed, smoothing her frantic hair with some styling lotion she’d snagged from a shoot. But she
felt that the bullet had lodged itself right in her chest.

On their way up the stairs, Hudson’s cell rang again. “Oh God, private number,” she grumbled. “Again.” She put the BlackBerry
to her ear. “Hel-LO?” she asked. This time Hudson’s face morphed from placid to horrified, until she hung up.

“What happened?” asked Lizzie as they reached the third floor.

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