Chapter 2
Kirsten
Jules is right to brag. The Cadillac looks more like a limo inside, with four huge leather seats facing into each other.
Maple has claimed one, her forearms wide on the armrests, the soles of her Nikes visible as she sinks into the deep bucket seat.
I sit down next to her, and Jules climbs in, taking the seat opposite Maple.
‘As you know, the shoot’s happening in Graffiti Alley in the Arts District,’ he says as he opens a small fridge and distributes cans of ice-cold water.
‘It’s got such a cool vibe – perfect for the street-style look that Azione are going for.
We’ve constructed an elevated glass box in front of the artwork, which looks spectacular, and there’s security, so you don’t need to worry about any snooping fans. ’
‘But I’ll be inside the box?’ Maple asks, drumming her new electric-blue shellac nails – a pre-shoot mom and daughter treat – against the can.
A note of fear has crept into her tone, and I try not to roll my eyes.
Sure, Maple has never liked confined spaces, but the box is made of glass. It will hardly be claustrophobic.
‘Exactly,’ Jules says with a smile. He seems to have missed her new nervousness, thank goodness. ‘It’s the perfect mix of classy and edgy, clean and gritty, you know?’
‘Truly perfect,’ I agree, although I’m thinking less about the creative direction and more about the paycheck.
Azione is an Italian clothing brand that Maddie, our PR agent, told me has been trying to break America since it launched in 2012.
They finally struck gold when the eldest Hart child gave them a shout-out across all her social media platforms a couple of years ago – I forget her name now, she hasn’t posted for a while, but with eight million subscribers to their @7harts YouTube page, the sales uptick for Azione was immediate.
Having finally caught on to the power of kidfluencing, the brand contacted our PR agency.
For a while it was just free clothes in exchange for posts.
But then last month, Maddie called to say they wanted Maple to front their digital advertising campaign – a starring role for Maple’s very first modeling gig.
I was ecstatic for her, and I can still remember her face when I told her the news.
Making your child’s dream come true is so special.
The strip is just beyond the airport, so we’re there in no time, and I turn toward the window to soak up the view.
The Eiffel Tower statue at Paris Las Vegas, more beautiful than the original, I’ve heard people say.
And the Bellagio opposite, unashamedly opulent with its iconic fountain and grand entrance.
I’ve only been to Vegas once before, a long weekend with Garrett over ten years ago.
We were celebrating my first brand deal for Mom that even in Vegas, a European fashion brand can choose grunge over glitz.
But if they’re willing to pay twenty-five thousand dollars for Maple to spend a day in Graffiti Alley, who am I to complain.
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. ‘You excited?’ I murmur.
‘Yes, I think so,’ she whispers. ‘Maybe a bit nervous. First time, you know. Don’t want to get it wrong.’
My eyes dart to Jules, but he’s hunched over his phone, thumbs jerking against the screen, so I reach out, stroke her long chestnut hair, inhale the scent of Verb shampoo.
‘You will be awesome, my Maple honey,’ I promise.
‘The best model they’ve ever used. And you know why?
Because you have been preparing for this moment your entire life.
You perform for the camera every single day. And now it’s time to reap the rewards.’