Page 6 of The Nanny and the Hothead
Charlotte shook off her angst-ridden haze, then glanced from the couple to the camera in her hands. “I’m not actuallytheirphotographer.”
“You’re holding a camera and taking pictures, aren’t you?” a man, who looked a heck of a lot like a middle-aged Royce, tossed back.
What was she supposed to do?
She checked her watch. She had four minutes until her appointment with Professor Tran! Where had the time gone? And then she had to book it to the event she was working tonight.
Hello, dry mouth! Hello, wave of overwhelming anxiety! Why didn’t she bring a bottle of water?
And she couldn’t forget about her date with destiny tonight.
She had to make it to the speed dating thing right after she worked the photography gig. Meeting Royce and Larissa was a sign. The universe was dangling the possibility of love and unlimited margaritas right before her eyes.
Who knows! Within a year or less, she could be a Larissa—the leading lady, the object of someone’s complete adoration. Isn’t that what she’d always wanted? That spark. That click. The ability to share that look with someone—the look that said, you’re my person, and you always will be.
“Hey, photographer lady! He’s holding the ring. Snap some pictures,” the older version of Royce called.
Earth to Charlotte!
“Yes, I’m on it!” she exclaimed, moving in to get a shot of their hands.
“Can you get a picture of the whole family, too? I’d love to put a framed photo on my bookcase in the living room,” a little elderly woman rasped from somewhere inside the horde of Royce and Larissa’s family members clambering around the couple.
Charlotte looked at her watch. She had one minute. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I really must be going.”
At least twenty pairs of eyes stared her down.
“You’re not going to say no to my great-great granny, are you?” Larissa asked, crestfallen, as the entire group watched her like a hawk.
Oh crap!
“What kind of photographer would deny a great-great granny?” the middle-aged Larissa lookalike lamented.
Hello, people, the kind of photographer who has a date with destiny!
But Charlotte couldn’t say that.
Her gaze bounced between the teeny-tiny granny and the newly engaged couple. “Of course, I’ll take a picture of the entire family. Please, gather in,” she directed, her heart pounding as she captured a few shots. “That should do it. Now, I need to be on my way. Congratulations on your engagement!”
“Did you get my good side?” a woman dressed in orange asked, patting her gray bob.
Charlotte’s mouth had become the Sahara Desert.
Stupid nervous reaction!
“I got everyone’s good side. All good sides! All the time! But I have an appointment and—”
Larissa stepped forward, now rocking a giant, sparkling rock. “I need to give you my email address so you know where to send the pictures. It’s Larissa with threeS’sat—”
“Larissa, sweetheart, have the photographer send the pictures to me. I can get them printed and framed,” the Larissa lookalike crooned.
Larissa hugged her mother. “Thank you, Mom!”
Charlotte nodded, needing to get out of Dodge. “I can send the pictures anywhere. I just need an email address.”
“Mom, what’s your email?” Larissa questioned.
The woman scratched her chin. “You know, I have two email addresses. Bob, honey, which email is the email I should use?” she mused as precious seconds spiraled down the drain of time.
