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

a brow then mouthed the same

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

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 them. Her face heated when she met Mr. Spencer's

(Oh, my!)

but no shadows hid him today. He was tall, dirty blond, and even from

a place of business." The receptionist's shrill tone broke Spring's uncomfortable staring contest with

attention swung from Spring to the receptionist with a frown

a mass of loose curls with ends that touched the tips of his

so quietly that if the room hadn't been surprised

else in the room, focused on Mr. Spencer. He wasn't looking at Mel, the receptionist, but was facing away from

could hear a pin hit

motioned for

looked a little paler and seemed