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She's been scouted by Ford and Elite- real New York agencies. Micah, the agent for Elite- a tall black guy in silver eyeliner- said that Felice was "heart-stopping." Everyone says that Felice looks like Elizabeth Taylor- all pleased with themselves, as if she were hearing this for the first time. It used to bug Felice: she pictured that squat, henlike woman in her wig and jewels, holding hands with Michael Jackson. But one day, Duffy brought over an old movie magazine while Felice and Berry lounged at their cafe table. He opened it and jabbed at the photo. "There. Look. You kids really are morons. You really don't know anything, do you? 'That's' Elizabeth Taylor."
Berry craned over the page. "Wow, you really kind of do. Look at her. You guys could be related."
A little nearsighted, Felice held the magazine closer, startled to see the resemblance- the straight brow bone, glimmering eyes, the fine jaw; only Felice's straight hair was self-hacked below the shoulders and Liz's hair was a sable bob, thick as a paintbrush. She finally realized what a compliment this comparison was.
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