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Amanda scowled as she looked through the selection of greeting cards. These were good—almost as good as Amanda’s. A quick Google search told her that this Snow was quickly building a local following. Everyone was raving about her greeting cards and encouraging her to do a special Christmas line.
A little further reading told Amanda that Snow planned to do just that. She ground her teeth as she glared at the screen. This Snow Willows was stealing Amanda’s thunder! It was Amanda’s greeting cards that were supposed to capture the minds of the masses this Christmas season. How was that supposed to happen when all anyone wanted to talk about was Snow bloody Willows and how incredible her cards were?
Amanda hated her. She hated everything from her stupid talent to her idiotic pretty face and bright blue eyes to her annoyingly well-shaped ass, which was clearly visible as she walked away from reporters.
She couldn’t be very intelligent, either. Who walked away from reporters? She should have stayed and answered questions as long as there were reporters to ask them. Clearly, this Snow wasn’t a very good businesswoman.
Well, Amanda wasn’t going to give in that easily. She needed to find a way to make her greeting cards truly spectacular; she would outshine Snow.
Perhaps it was time to think of hiring a professional photographer. Amanda took decent photos, but she couldn’t deny that the quality wasn’t quite up to the standard of the photos that Snow used on her cards.
Amanda was willing to put as much money as she needed into this. It wasn’t even about the business anymore. It was about beating Snow. No one would steal her thunder this Christmas and get away with it.
Amanda got onto Google and quickly found the top freelance agency for photographers. She dialed their number and waited.
“Hello, how may I help you?”
“Hi. I need someone to take photos for me, tomorrow. And probably a number of days after that. Send me your best.”
“Our best photographer is currently booked up until—”
“I’ll double whatever their current engagements are paying. Just have them to me tomorrow.”
“I—well, I suppose we could send another photographer on those jobs. Very well, you will have her tomorrow. What’s your address?”
Amanda gave her address and hung up. She spent a few minutes on online banking making the deposit for the job before returning to her computer. She forced herself to exit everything that had anything to do with Snow. Her pretty face, her blonde hair, her perfect fucking cards. It was just making her angry.
Instead, she focused on making a list of all the potential shots she wantedherphotographer to do. This was going to be great. Soon, everyone would see that no one outshone Amanda Asher.
The next day,Amanda’s doorbell rang at exactly nine o’clock, the time she had arranged for the photographer to come.
She opened the door, smiling.
Her smile dropped off her face when she saw who it was. She recognized the woman immediately from the footage she had watched yesterday. Bright blue expectant eyes, lovely blonde hair, pretty heart shaped face.
It was Snow Willows.
Anger coiled in Amanda’s gut. She knew the freelance agency hadn’t done this on purpose, but having the very person she was trying to beat felt like a someone was spitting in her face.
She glared at Snow, whose friendly smile faltered.
4
Snow smiled uncertainly at her new client, Amanda Asher. Amanda was glaring at her as though Snow had personally offended her. Snow didn’t know what she could have possibly done to offend the woman already. Perhaps she was misreading her expression.
“Hi, I’m Snow. I’m here to take photos for you.” She stuck out her hand, but Amanda didn’t take it.
She gave Snow another forbidding glower before turning away. “Come,” she called over her shoulder.
Snow was a little miffed. There was no need for Amanda to be so cold and rude. After all, Snow was here on short notice. The company had cancelled her previous engagement to make sure she could be here for Amanda today. Had Snow had her way, she wouldn’t let a client down, even for one who was paying more, but the agency thought otherwise.
Snow forgot her annoyance as she walked through Amanda’s house and out the back to a field full of beautiful Christmas trees.
“Oh,” Snow breathed softly. “This is wonderful. Is this what you want me to take photos of? Your trees?”
“No, I just want you to gape at them like an idiot,” Amanda snapped. “Of course, I want you to take photos!”
Snow bit back a retort. Amanda was a client, after all, and the agency wouldn’t be very happy with her if she did anything to make Amanda angrier than she already was.
