A Father For The Twins. Callie Endicott
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“I think they’re getting resigned to your new career, especially since it means you won’t be gazing back at them from magazine covers in the grocery checkout line. You know how stuffy Dad can be. Seeing you in those swimsuit editions used to really get him going.”
Adam rubbed the back of his neck. He was sorry it bothered his parents that he didn’t have the career they’d chosen for him, but he had the right to live as he saw fit. Nevertheless, maybe the agency’s success would alleviate their vague sense of failure since “our son is a businessman” must sound more respectable to them. While he didn’t crave their approval, he wanted them to be happy.
“But get this,” Sophie added, “remember when Dad cut his hand and Lila kept helping change the bandage?”
“Yeah.”
“Now he thinks she should become a doctor.”
Adam instinctively tensed. “But she’s only eight years old.” He understood where his worry came from. It had taken him long enough to shake off family expectations.
“I know.” A crash reverberated through the phone and she sighed. “Sorry, I’d better go see what happened.”
“Tell the little terrors ‘hi’ for me.”
They said goodbye and Adam started going through the seemingly bottomless stack of photographs and videos received each day at Moonlight Ventures. Few of the submissions possessed the special something they wanted as a signature aspect of the agency, but occasionally they found someone in the pile who stood out.
A couple of the pictures were interesting and he put them aside to ask Nicole’s opinion. It might have been useful to have his other partners take a look as well, but it wasn’t practical. Rachel wouldn’t be on board for several weeks, and Logan still had a few months left on his photography contracts. They didn’t have time to agree on every decision.
At length, Adam turned to the picture of the prospective client he was meeting with at 1:00 p.m. Her aunt would be there as well. Tiffany Bryant was thirteen, with an engaging smile and energy that seemed to leap out of her photograph.
Standing, he decided to go for a walk to clear his head. He had been thinking a lot about the past, probably because he’d made another big change in his life. It wasn’t that he had to work any longer—with his savings and investments he could have a life of leisure, doing whatever suited his fancy. That might be fine for some people, but he wanted to accomplish something, not just play. A talent agency had seemed the right place to use his experience and find a new way to succeed.
* * *
CASSIE BRYANT DROVE toward the Moonlight Ventures talent agency with her niece and nephew, still filled with doubts. She wasn’t convinced that a modeling career was the right thing for her niece, but it also didn’t seem fair to discourage Tiffany’s dreams.
Hopefully this agency wasn’t like the one where a friend of hers had first gone. They’d required Phoebe to take expensive modeling and acting classes conducted by the agency and then charged costly fees to create a formal portfolio. But they never called her for a job and she’d learned they made most of their income from such practices. After a while, Phoebe had tried other agencies, who’d said that they didn’t think it would be worthwhile for her to pursue modeling.
Cassie figured genuine talent agencies were the most common, but she still wanted to be wary.
Sighing, she pushed the thought away.
From what she’d been able to determine, Moonlight Ventures operated on the straight and level. So the immediate concern was not wanting Tiffany to get her hopes too high only to have them dashed.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Cassie saw her nephew, Glen, playing a video game. In the front passenger seat, Tiffany finished the milk Cassie had insisted she drink. Nervous about the interview and worried about her weight, she hadn’t wanted to eat anything, but Cassie couldn’t let her niece abandon proper nutrition to reach a size zero. She’d also argued that being hungry wouldn’t help her make a good impression, so Tiffany had agreed on low-fat milk. Now she was anxiously tidying her hair again.
“Don’t you think I should wear makeup?” she asked. “Just a little?”
“The instructions said everyday clothes and no makeup.”
“I want them to see me at my best.”
“Then they’ll have to wait, like, years or something,” Glen told her with typical brotherly boredom. He’d eaten his sister’s chicken sandwich and french fries, along with his own, and was probably wondering what came after the hors d’oeuvres. He was an insatiable eating machine...called a teenager.
Twisting around, Tiffany stuck out her tongue at him.
“Yeah, nice look,” he told her. “That’s the face they want on a magazine.”
Deciding not to intervene in the minor dispute, Cassie pulled into the talent agency lot and parked the car. “We’re here,” she announced.
Glen unbuckled his seat belt, but Tiffany sat frozen.
“Come on, Tiff,” Cassie urged.
“I—I can’t.”
Cassie understood her fear, the sense that when it came down to it, you’d almost rather not try than fail. But she didn’t want her niece’s life to be full of regrets about what she’d missed because she hadn’t been willing to take a risk.
“Sure you can,” Cassie urged. “You’re just nervous. That’s natural. You’ll get over it.”
“Good grief, Tiff-Niff,” Glen muttered, “you dragged us here, at least you can go inside.”
“Will you go with me?”
He rolled his eyes but slid from the car.
Swallowing a lump of emotion in her throat, Cassie opened her door. For all the sniping between her niece and nephew, they shared a special bond, born from the struggle to survive once their mother had become an alcoholic.
The previous summer, Marie had been declared unfit. With her parents unable to take the twins due to her father’s health problems, Cassie had filed for custody. Even after nearly a year, she still felt like a novice when it came to parenting. It was possible anyone raising teens felt that way when they encountered a new challenge—and with the twins, there always seemed to be something new. On the other hand, most parents had all the years between babyhood and adolescence to figure things out—she’d started right in the middle.
The question about Tiffany modeling was a first-class parental conundrum. Tiff had an interest in the sciences, and the same as her brother, she was getting top marks in her classes. She also wanted to be accepted at school, so the modeling interest might be an attempt to prove to her fellow students that she wasn’t a nerd. At the same time, Tiffany enjoyed clothes and performing, so maybe she truly wanted to be a model.
Moonlight