I sit on a bench after setting everything up for the shoot. A breeze keeps the heat of the day at bay while I wait for Mr. Richfield and...
'Fuck', I curse internally, searching through my briefcase. I know her name. I just can't remember it. A cough causes me to look up from my papers, seeing my clients standing before me.
They each look pristine; Mr. Richfield's dark hair is cut short and his peircing coffee-colored eyes stare-- not impolitely-- from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. His daughter's long hair is tied back into a neat bun and her eyes gaze at me sharply, almost impatiently.
I take stock of what they are wearing so that we can get the best shot. Mr. Richfield's dark blue, pinstriped suit is neatly pressed and his brown shoes are shined. His daughter's black dress flutters in the breeze and a small pearl necklace is draped around her delicate neck. Her shoes, high heels, are just as out of place here as her father's.
I wonder for a moment if they are going to a funeral. Or to church. I shake my head and stand, slipping the paperwork back into my briefcase.
"Hello," I straighten my back to match their posture, "I am Fiona Pheasant."
I expect a laugh at the alliteration. When they do not laugh, I press on.
"Would you rather we move this shoot indoors?"
"No," Mr. Richfield replies, "I am Byron Richfield. This is my daughter, Naomi."
He offers his hand; I take it, shake it, and we begin our shoot.
After a few hours and several photos, I end the shoot and Mr. Richfield follows me as I walk back to my car.
"I'll get you the negative by next Wednesday," I tell him. I see his eyebrows raise. I feel the need to explain, but stifle it. I like old school photographs and i shouldn't have to explain that.
"Great," Mr. Richfield answers. I smile and move to get into my car. He stops me for a moment and I feel panic rise in my throat. I choose to ignore it, offering a prizewinning smile and gently push past him. He steps aside and I leave, going back to the studio.
'What was that?' I wonder. I shake the thought out of my head and begin workin on preparing for my next shoot.
YOU ARE READING
As the World Turns
General FictionAn abusive ex. An absentee father. The death of a loved one. Everything seems to always go wrong in Fiona's life. Nothing she says or does seems to be good enough for her overbearing mother. This is the story of a young woman struggling with the eve...
