The only daughter of supermodel Katia Summers, witty and thoughtful Lizzie Summers likes to stick to the sidelines. The sole heir to Metronome Media and daughter of billionaire Karl Jurgensen, outspoken Carina Jurgensen would rather climb mountains than social ladders. Daughter of chart-topping pop icon Holla Jones, stylish and sensitive Hudson Jones is on the brink of her own music breakthrough. By the time freshman year begins, unconventional-looking Lizzie Summers has come to expect fawning photographers and adoring fans to surround her gorgeous supermodel mother. But when Lizzie is approached by a fashion photographer that believes she's "the new face of beauty," Lizzie surprises herself and her family by becoming the newest Summers woman to capture the media's spotlight. I was drawn to the tantalizing story immediately, but my heart was stolen by the fierce friendship between three besties living life inside the celebrity fishbowl. I can't wait to read the next book!― Jen Calonita, author of Secrets of My Hollywood Life Ever wonder what it's really like to grow up in Manhattan with a famous mom or dad? Well, Joanna Philbin is going to tell you. The Daughters is authentic and well-told. Gossip Girl herself would love this new series.― Cecily von Ziegesar, author of the #1 New York Times bestselling series Gossip Girl "Reading Joanna Philbin's funny, witty, and poignant debut is like getting an insider's glimpse into the gilded world of those born to be famous"― Alyson Noel, author of the #1 New York Times bestselling The Immortals series "As if navigating their high school hallways weren't enough, these girls have to do so under the entire world's watchful eyes!"― Seventeen.com Joanna Philbin was born in Los Angeles and raised in New York City. She holds a BA from Brown University and a JD and an MFA from the University of Notre Dame. She is the author of Rules of Summer and the Daughters series, and lives and writes in Los Angeles. The Daughters By Philbin, Joanna Poppy Copyright © 2010 Philbin, Joanna All right reserved. ISBN: 9780316049016 chapter 1 “Katia!” “Katia!” “Over here!” “Over here!” Lizzie Summers stood where she usually did when she was out with her mother — off to the side, hidden in the crowd, safely out of frame — and watched the world’s most famous supermodel drive the paparazzi crazy. “Katia!” “Over here!” With her shoulders thrown back, her back slightly arched, and one manicured hand placed jauntily on her hip, Lizzie’s mother pivoted left and right, her multimillion-dollar smile so bright it could blind people. Today it was even brighter than usual, because Plenty magazine had decided to kick off Fall Fashion Week with a luncheon in her honor. But like most Fashion Week events, there were about fifteen minutes of frantic picture-taking before anything really got started. “Katia!” someone yelled. “You’re beautiful !” someone screamed. Lizzie looked out the window of the Mandarin Oriental’s private dining room, down at the green domes of trees in Central Park and beyond, at the elegant and crowded skyline of Fifth Avenue, and sighed. Um, yeah , she thought. She’s beautiful. Understatement of the century . Her mother, Katia Summers, wasn’t just beautiful. One fashion designer (Galliano? Gaultier? Lizzie couldn’t remember) had called Katia “walking proof of God.” And if her mother’s twenty-year career as a supermodel was any indication, everyone else thought so, too. As Katia’s only child, Lizzie had logged more hours of her life looking at her mother in person than just about anyone, and even she had to agree: her mom was Seriously, Jaw-Droppingly, Is-That-Humanly-Possible Gorgeous. Day or night. Made-up or fresh-faced. Bedhead or updo. No matter how few hours of sleep she’d had or how annoyed Lizzie was with her, Katia Summers was never not breathtaking. And if beauty was really the sum of a person’s parts, then each of Katia’s parts was almost perfect. There were the eyes that famously changed color, from turquoise to green to an exotic indigo-purple, depending on her mood; the glacial cheekbones that made the lower half of her face a perfect V; her naturally pillowy lips and the trademark pout, caused by a small overbite her parents had never fixed. There was the thick, extension-free blond hair that fell in waves to the middle of her back, and her lean but voluptuous body. Yes , Lizzie would think, as she looked at her mom across the breakfast table or in the elevator — perfect . Katia was so perfect that at thirty-seven, when most other models had already hung up their Manolos, she was still in peak demand. She starred in the ad campaigns of at least one A-list designer each season, did spreads in the biggest issues of Harper’s Bazaar , W , and every country’s edition of Vogue , served as the face of L’Ete cosmetics, and once a year graced the cover of GQ or Details , covered by nothing but a macramé bikini bottom and