A Taste of Spring

It took longer than Spring realized to get the house cleaned and now she was running late. She hurried by a man, bumping into him as she passed by. "Sorry," Spring called over her shoulder. She paused long enough to give him a sympathetic smile before continuing on her way.

"You're late," Brandi said, just as Spring plopped down in the seat across from her in the waiting room.

"Almost late," Spring choked out, as she tried to catch her breath. She knew that Brandi, a light skinned beauty with short light coiled hair, sultry eyes, and full lips, was gorgeous but... (Wow.)

Brandi gave her a hard stare for several seconds before she half smiled. "It's fine,". She handed Spring a mini bottle of water. "The receptionist says that Mr. Spencer is running late too. So, get your game face on so we can do this."

Spring took a sip of water and tried to relax as she peered over Brandi's shoulder to look at the receptionist who hadn't even acknowledged her.

"Thank you," she said to Brandi after catching her breath.

Thank God Brandi isn't a bitch, Spring thought as she took another sip of the water. She hated working with ego-bitches.

"Have you worked with Mr. Spencer-"

a hint of snark, interrupting Brandi, "he's ready for you

then mouthed the same words

as she and Brandi got to their feet and followed the receptionist. She hoped that Mr. Spencer was nice and not one of those arrogant perfectionist photographers. Suddenly feeling hot all over, she glanced at Brandi, who shot her a crossed-eyed look. Spring burst out laughing. Brandi snickered but then threw her head

were laughing so hard that neither of them realized that they had walked into the studio. Spring's laughter died when she noticed the silence. Her wide eyes took in all the people watching

(Oh, my!)

shadows hid him today. He was tall, dirty blond, and even from

The receptionist's shrill tone broke Spring's uncomfortable staring contest with the

full height. Her attention swung from Spring to the receptionist with a frown on her face.

but thin. His hair was a mass of loose curls with ends that touched the tips of his ears. His profile showed a

if the room hadn't been surprised into silence, Spring doubted that anyone would have heard it. "It's tiresome, and

at Mel, the receptionist,

several seconds you could hear a pin hit the floor. It wasn't until Mr. Spencer moved to a table that held more camera gear

to Spring and motioned

little paler and seemed to have deflated right there in