She looked blankly at the woman. Skin Deep? Yes, she knew the place. A couture house for plus-sized women that Lacey greatly admired. Being a model, she was almost six-feet tall herself and had to have most of her clothing custom made.
At almost thirty, her figure had lost that waifish-ness of her youth that had made her so famous. That and her love of pastry cream with strawberries had left her with rounded hips and full breasts that were not exactly popular amongst the magazines these days.
Still, she'd found runway work for some minor houses and new designers. She was also about to feature in an art show by a very chic, local photographer, Parker Fiore. She was so grateful for the opportunity. Nearly broke and almost past the age where models could get work, Lacey had been more than
