Free King by L J Dee Page B

radiating from him in the
enclosed space as he raked his eyes slowly over my body. I was at least three
steps behind him as I followed him silently into a huge room, filled with
couches, rugs, beanbags, balls and all kinds of strange textured items on the
wall as I looked around dumbfounded. “What’s this?” I frowned as he shrugged
laughing. “Creative space. Just sit down and I’ll tell
you why I need your help”. I chose a huge butter-soft leather settee and
flopped back, looking around as he came towards me, a square white box, wrapped
in gold satin ribbon held in his hands, a small smile playing around his lips,
eyes twinkling.
    “I’ve
got a pitch I need your help with” he said eventually as I eyed him
suspiciously. “Well two things concern me about that King. Firstly I’m the
competition. Secondly, I know from painful experience that you are
frighteningly effective at pitching advertising campaigns without my help”. I
held his gaze, his smile broadening. “I couldn’t think of anyone more fitting
for this. The creative department have only come up with the usual clichés and
I want something unique and different, it’s incredibly important to me”. I
couldn’t contain my curiosity “What is it?” I stared at him, his eyes twinkling
more than ever. “Cake” he grinned. Evidently, insulting me was the main purpose
of my visit. “Ask your girlfriend King” I said sarcastically, rising to walk
towards the door. “I don’t do girlfriends” he said simply, opening the box and
holding it under my nose. ‘Oh my God’ I thought to myself, licking my lips
involuntarily as I took in the round vision of chocolate and vanilla paradise
that was resting in the box. Except for the lonely mini roll, not a morsel of
sponge had passed my lips in a week, it was tempting.
      He caught my gaze and held it there. “Grayson
haven’t got this pitch, it’s a personal contact Smith, so there’s no
competition, my friends don’t eat cake and neither do I”. “You don’t like cake? Even chocolate and vanilla?” I asked in astonishment,
unable to comprehend how anyone could not like cake. He looked at me intently,
his mouth twitching wickedly “especially not vanilla” he grinned. “Smith, the
team haven’t come up with anything I’m happy with, and you are the target
market for this product. I really, really need your help” he shrugged. “I’m not
being facetious Smith, I just couldn’t think of anyone better”.
    So
he considered me a girl who stuffed her face with dessert. It was partly true,
I laughed inwardly. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, including the
two to three pounds this cake would put on my hips that I’d have to spend all
weekend running off. Sod it, it was worth it I thought, reaching for the fork
he was teasing me with. “Not so fast Smith, you can’t just dive in. I’ve
brought you here because this is creative space and I need you to get in the
right frame of mind, so you can get a feel for the product”. “I’d rather get a
taste for it King” I smiled as he laughed gently. “You’re going to have to
trust me”.
      Well that would be the day, I thought, sitting
back on the couch as he sat next to me, slightly closer than necessary and
burning me with his gaze. Mine flitted between his and the chocolate and
vanilla decadence calling me from the box in his hands.
    “I
want you to lie down and wear this” he grinned, pulling out a black silk eye
mask from his pocket as my heart flipped and I stared at him wide eyed. “Not
going to happen” I frowned. He simply smiled. “Listen, I want you to totally
relax, imagine you’re somewhere else and concentrate all your senses on that
cake. It’s the only way we’ll get to something nearly good enough for this
pitch. I’m not going to do anything to you. You can take the blindfold off if
you feel uncomfortable, but please at least give it a try. I’ve taken it on
good professional advice that this is the