Elizabeth and Charles, she thought as she began the setup. Engagement shot. They’d been firm, she recalled, at the consult. Formal, simple, straightforward.
She wondered why they didn’t just get a friend with a point-and-shoot to take it then. And she recalled now with a quick smirk, that those words had nearly come out of her mouth—before Parker had read her mind and shot her a warning glare.
“Client’s king,” she reminded herself as she set her backdrop. “They want boring, boring it is.”
She hauled in lights, positioned a diffuser—boring could at least be pretty. She brought out her tripod, mostly because she felt the clients would expect equipment. By the time she’d chosen her lenses, checked her lighting, draped a stool, the clients knocked at her door.
“Right on time.” She shut the door behind them and blocked a blast of frigid wind. “Brutal out there today. Let me take your coats.”
They looked perfect, she thought. Barbie and Ken for the upper-class set. The cool, every hair in place blonde, the handsome, polished, and pressed hero.
Part of her longed to muss them up, just a little, and make them human.
“Can I get you some coffee?” she asked.
“Oh, no, but thank you.” Elizabeth granted her a smile. “We’d really like to just get to it. We have a full schedule today.” As Mac dealt with their outdoor gear, Elizabeth glanced around the studio. “This used to be the pool house?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s . . . interesting. I suppose I expected something more elaborate. Still.” She wandered over to study some of the framed photos on the wall. “Charles’s cousin’s wedding here in November was wonderful. And she just raves about you and your partners. Isn’t that right, Charles?”
“Yes. It’s what decided us on your company.”
“The wedding planner and I will be working closely together over the next months. Is there anywhere I can freshen up before we start?” Elizabeth asked.
“Absolutely.” Mac led the way to the powder room off her studio, and wondered just what there was to freshen.
“So, Charles.” Mentally, Mac was loosening the perfectly executed Windsor knot of his tie. “Where are you two off to today?”
“We have a meeting with the wedding planner, and we’re taking care of registering. Elizabeth is going on to meet with two of the designers your partner recommended for her gown.”
“That’s exciting.” You look just thrilled, she thought, the way you might for your semiannual dental visit.
“It’s a lot of details. I suppose you’re used to them.”
“Every wedding’s the first. Would you mind standing behind the stool here? I can check the lighting and focus while Elizabeth’s getting ready.”
He moved obediently, stood stiff as a poker.
“Relax,” she told him. “This will be easier and quicker than you think, and possibly fun. What kind of music do you like?”
“Music?”
“Yeah, let’s have some music.” She crossed to her CD player, chose a disk. “Natalie Cole on ballads. Romantic, classic. How’s that?”
“Fine. That’s fine.”
Mac caught him sneaking a peek at his watch as she went back to pretend to adjust her camera. “Have you decided on the honeymoon spot yet?”
“We’re leaning toward Paris.”
“Do you speak French?”
For the first time he smiled easily. “Not a word.”
“Well, there’s the adventure,” she said as Elizabeth came back looking as precisely perfect as she had when she’d gone in.
The suit was probably Armani, and beautifully tailored. The indigo blue color flattered, and Mac imagined Elizabeth had selected Charles’s slate gray to set it off.
“I think we’ll start with you sitting, Elizabeth, with Charles behind you. Just a little to the left, Charles. And Elizabeth, if you’d angle toward the windows, just a bit. Lean back toward Charles—relax your body. Charles, put your hand on her left shoulder. Put your hand over his, it’ll show off that spectacular engagement ring.”
She took a couple of shots just to get them over the initial frozen smiles.
Angle your head.
Weight on the back foot.
Shift your shoulders.
Shy, Mac realized. He was shy, camera shy and just a little people shy. And she was monumentally self-conscious. Terrified of not looking exactly right.
She tried to put them at ease, asking how they met, how they got engaged—though she’d asked the same questions when they’d set up the appointment. And received the same answers now.
She barely cracked the surface.
She could stop now, Mac thought, and give them exactly what they thought they wanted. But it wouldn’t be what they needed.
She stepped back from the camera. As she did, their bodies relaxed, and Elizabeth turned her head to smile up and