“What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.
“Nothing,” he said, smiling broadly. “I just don’t meet many people at these events who care much about art, let alone the specifics of form and negative space. I’m impressed.”
“Well, I do have a background in the arts.”
His eyebrows went up and I could sense his interest shifting completely over to me. I wasn’t used to getting this kind of attention at parties. I knew he was flirting a little, which would probably bother Ford, but it seemed harmless. It wasn’t like I was flirting back.
I was simply bored, and Andrew was nice, and he was interested in art and photography like me. So far, he was the only person at this event who had made me feel like I belonged.
“So youarea photographer,” he said. “My assumption was half correct, then.”
Nodding, I admitted, “I mostly do commercial work for my family’s company, Danica Rose Management.”
His interest became even more obvious. “The modeling agency?”
“That’s right.” I hoped he didn’t know too much about the reputation we’d had before we switched our name and our brand. We were all still working hard to overcome the ugly notoriety our father had brought down on the Zoric name.
“You all put up some great billboards downtown recently,” he said. “I don’t suppose you had a hand in that campaign?”
“Actually, yeah. I shot all of those images,” I said. “I was promoted to a broader creative role a few months ago, so I basically ran point on the whole campaign.”
It had been intended as a relaunch of sorts—moving away from my father’s branding of the agency as a literal collection of the most beautiful women in the world, and toward an image that was edgy, artistic, and inclusive. My brothers had been happy to put me in charge.
Andrew let out a low whistle. “They’re lucky to have you.”
“It’s my job. Not that I don’t love the work I do for DRM. It’s just…I don’t know.”
“Just what?” he prompted with a playful look. “Tell me.”
“Sometimes I wish I could get away,” I confessed. “Step back from the family business and take a little time to do some projects of my own. I’ve had gallery shows, shot forNational Geographic, but it’s been a while. Commercial photography can be a little mercenary.”
Andrew nodded. “So you’re smartandambitious. I like that.”
I’d never been called ambitious before. My family appreciated the work I did, and I knew that Ford was supportive as well, but I sometimes got the sense that everyone thought of my photography as more of a hobby than a long-term career. Maybe that was why I’d been able to confess my feelings to Andrew, basically a complete stranger, before anyone in my family.
The thing was, I couldn’t just abandon ship to go off on some self-indulgent, soul-searching art sabbatical. As much as I yearned to photograph the wider world—I loved visiting ancient ruins and crumbling cemeteries in particular—I had a responsibility to make sure the agency and all the people it employed stayed afloat.
Still, it was nice to talk about my dreams with someone.
“I’d love to see more of your work sometime,” he said. “Outside of the agency stuff.”
“Okay?” I said, a little surprised by his interest. “Sure. I mean, I’m flattered.”
He took his wallet out, extracted a business card, and handed it over. “I have to confess, I’m not just a casual observer. I’m in the business myself, so to speak.”
Andrew Apellido, Editor-in-Chief,lookingglass.
“We’re an up-and-coming online publication,” he said. “I’ve seen your work, and I have to say, you’ve got just the eye. I think you’re perfect for what we’re looking for. Plus, if you don’t mind me saying so, the Zoric name would be a good prestige boost for the magazine.”
I didn’t mind, especially since a lot of people still saw my family as pariahs. It was nice to know others out there still thought the Zoric name carried some weight. In a good way.
Then I turned over the card and noticed the address. “Oh.”
“What?” Andrew asked. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” I said. “It’s just that you’re based in New York. I mean, I know the internet is a thing, but—”
“Ah. Yes,” he said. “I’d want you there in person. Ideally, we’d send you out on freelance assignments, eventually giving you more creative control—maybe even a permanent position if it works out. I’d love to discuss it more in detail. We could fly you out, of course.”
