Enter, stage left

Her name was Saffrine. No last name. That’s how good a model she was. Everyone in the fashion industry knew her name. I was the only who didn’t care about it though.

“Is this the photographer?” She asked the creative director as she introduced the two of us. Her French accent was perfect and intriguing.

“Yes. I’m Michael Ember.” I said, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm, yet soft.

“A pleasure.” She said. Her symmetrical face formed a perfect smile, showing off mother-of-pearl white teeth.

“The pleasure is all mine, madame.” I said, and kissed her hand lightly. Such was the fashion industry.

“Well, let’s start with the photo shoot, no?” She asked.

“Of course.” I said.

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