The Photo Shoot (Moments...)

Chapter 1- Latrice

"All right, Mrs. Williams, I need you to turn to the right just a little bit more. Perfect."

The camera snapped. Then again, and again.

My attempts to avoid blinking failed. Being photographed was not my idea of fun. In fact, I'd avoided pictures of any kind since childhood. After my parents died, though, my grandmother had become consumed with picture taking.

"Now I need you to relax a bit, okay? Smile. Have fun!" The photographer raised the camera to eye level.

Fun. Yeah, right.

This young guy had no idea what my life was like.

Had been like.

Would be like.

I, Latrice Williams, was a forty-year-old divorcee with a three-year-old daughter.

Following my life-long ambition to be a successful accountant with a major corporation and postponing my desire to become a mother and wife had led to three things: a very successful career, a world-wind romance with a man seven years my junior, and now, a divorce.

Being a single mother with a young child was not how I'd imagined making the trip 'over the hill.'

"Mrs. Williams, are you okay?"

My attention went to the photographer. His brow creased.

"What? Do I need to turn, or─"

"No, ma'am, your pose is fine, but you had a sad look on your face."

My hands went to my cheeks. "Sorry. I was thinking about...never mind."

"Why don't we take a break? I need to make some adjustments to the lighting anyway." He tried to hide his frustration, but it was obvious.

"Sure."

In order to clear my head, I walked around the studio to stretch my legs and let go painful memories of my failed relationship. My friends were right; it was way past time to move on. But how? I'd been on dating sites such as OurTime, Match.com, and even sites for single parents. All were a waste of time. The men there were all about playing games, wanted a sex-only relationship, or had obviously lied about their lives. And with the issue of 'Catfish' on dating sites, I didn't have time to fall into a sugar momma trap. Dealing with a younger man had been close enough.

Now, my happily-married friends felt bad and decided I needed to do something to jump-start my self-esteem. They'd set up this photo shoot, as though I was some young model, as a gag gift for my birthday. They felt that the use of a fresh headshot on dating sites would attract the right kind of man.

That's where they were wrong. My issues weren't about self-esteem. I'm confident, established, and do my own thing. My decision to get involved with a younger man had not been about settling for the first man who'd paid me some attention. It'd been fun playing the role of a cougar. It'd felt good to know I could attract a man outside of my generation just as well as one within my age group.

Falling in love and expecting him to fit the mold of the man I wanted to grow old with had been my mistake.

I focused on the architecture of the remodeled studio. Solid red brick framed a row of huge windows that ran from the ceiling to the floor and overlooked the city and street three floors below. How in the world had my friends found this place? It was in the heart of downtown Atlanta, yet tucked away in a part riddled with abandoned warehouses that were slowly being re-appropriated for housing and businesses.