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I fixed my coffee how I liked it, grabbed a couple of cookies from the jar and a napkin, and headed back towards the studio I was using.
“All set for your afternoon appointment?” one of the receptionists, Melanie, asked as I came out.
I nodded with a smile. “Pretty much. Just send him over when he gets here.”
“Will do.”
I headed back to the studio, leaving the barn-style door partially open for Lucas to arrive whenever.
I put the coffee down and ate my cookies. I still had time—Lucas was never ever really right on time. It had been an endearing quirk of his. Hell, who was I kidding? I found most of his behavior cute or endearing...
I wiped my hands off on the napkin then tossed it in my trash can, took a long sip of my coffee, and looked around the space. Everything was clean and orderly, ready to go.
Except me.
I was still a jumble of nerves.
I just needed to make it through the first few minutes. I’d made it through worse, I reminded myself as I headed back over the worktable, picking up another lens to attach to a second camera body. I removed the lens from its protective casing and got to work. I needed something else to focus on, something to keep me distracted from my racing thoughts.
I was bent over the table, adjusting the focus on the lens, when I heard the knock on the open door. “Hi, I’m Lucas. I’m your one-fifteen.”
I froze at that overly familiar voice. The one that unleashed a million thoughts and memories, the one that could knock me to my knees if I wasn’t careful.
I stilled a moment, looking at the camera in my hands, amazed they weren’t shaking with nerves.
One deep breath.
Two.
I knew what he’d see when he looked at me—my dark wash jeans, my knee-high black boots and simple black V-neck T-shirt, my hair piled up in a messy bun. I just didn’t know what I’d see when I looked at him.
You got this, I told myself before turning around.
And there he was about ten feet away, navy blue business suit, baby blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar, a blue tie in hand.
The perfect blue to go with his eyes.
“I’m Abbie. I’m your photographer for the day.”
He looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“A-Abbie...”
“It’s me.” I lifted my camera up in my hand. “Los Angeles agrees with you.”
He looked good. Really good. His dark hair was a little shorter, a little more styled than I’d ever seen him wear it, like he was actually using some sort of product in it.
He hadn’t moved since I’d turned around.
Our eyes met, and my heart sped up, afraid that this was the absolute worst thing that could have happened.
I should have gotten someone to take over the appointment.
I could have accidently bumped into him in the hall afterwards or out in the parking lot, asked him if he wanted to go out for a coffee, talk, catch up, fall in love…
Instead…
I hadn’t thought.
