Flatline
img img Flatline img Chapter 3 Two
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Chapter 6 Five img
Chapter 7 Six img
Chapter 8 Seven img
Chapter 9 Eight img
Chapter 10 Nine img
Chapter 11 Ten img
Chapter 12 Eleven img
Chapter 13 Twelve img
Chapter 14 Thirteen img
Chapter 15 Fourteen img
Chapter 16 Fifteen img
Chapter 17 Sixteen img
Chapter 18 Seventeen img
Chapter 19 Eighteen img
Chapter 20 Nineteen img
Chapter 21 Twenty img
Chapter 22 Twenty-One img
Chapter 23 Twenty-Two img
Chapter 24 Twenty-Three img
Chapter 25 Twenty-Four img
Chapter 26 Twenty-Five img
Chapter 27 Twenty-Six img
Chapter 28 Twenty-Seven img
Chapter 29 Twenty- Eight img
Chapter 30 Twenty-Nine img
Chapter 31 Thirty img
Chapter 32 Thirty-One img
Chapter 33 Thirty-Two img
Chapter 34 Thirty-Three img
Chapter 35 Thirty-Four img
Chapter 36 Thirty - Five img
Chapter 37 Thirty-Six img
Chapter 38 Thirty-Seven img
Chapter 39 Thirty-Eight img
Chapter 40 Thirty-Nine img
Chapter 41 Forty img
Chapter 42 Forty-One img
Chapter 43 Forty-Two img
Chapter 44 Forty-Three img
Chapter 45 Forty-Four img
Chapter 46 Epilogue img
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Chapter 3 Two

Kay

My alarm went off for the third time, ugh Mondays! We were going to be late if I didn't get a move on.

"Seth! Time to wake up!" I shouted from my room.

I could just picture him groaning and covering his head with his blanket, still, he couldn't afford to be late again. Teenagers. I whipped up a bacon and egg breakfast as quick as I could and hurried him along before we finally hit the road.

Our team had to pitch for the Flatline account that morning, I couldn't be late. While I had done most of the work, the director wouldn't let me deliver the presentation. The owner of the successful brand of streetwear was a dark horse and they weren't sure whether he'd like it if a woman headed up the account. They chose Mitch instead, he's an ok guy, a little straight-laced so at this particular brand I would be much better. I would be there though, it pissed me off more than I'd have liked to admit, but the ad agency really needed this account. I tried to choose my battles carefully and realised that this wasn't one of them. I loved my job and the agency I worked for was better than most, I'd had opportunities, but nothing as big as this. We were a medium-sized company and were finally becoming known for our edgy, avant-garde style. I was also a little relieved as I had to work some make-up magic to cover my bruised eye, so being the centre of attention would probably not have been ideal.

I walked into the building in my standard work attire; pencil skirt that fell just below the knee, long sleeved-shirt, stilettos and lace top stockings. No need for anyone at the office to see my full sleeve tattoos or the ones on my legs for that matter. The smell of freshly brewed coffee first thing in the morning and the sophisticated, sleek and quirky decor always put me in a great creative mental space.

I just needed to have a look through the strategy for the pitch one more time before the meeting and headed to my cubicle.

"Boo!" Jess popped her head around the wall, "damn Kay, why can I never catch you?"

I chuckled, "I've told you before, spidey-sense," and wiggled my eyebrows.

"Soooo, how was your weekend, please tell me you left your apartment at least?" she asked, although she already knew what I'd say.

"Of course not, I needed my beauty sleep after the tournament, you know how that goes," I mumbled.

Nobody in the office knew about the tournaments beside Jess, I wasn't sure why, but I'd just never told anyone else. I caught the odd look sometimes, when I was bruised, despite my best efforts to cover it up, but I wasn't married or in a relationship so they probably didn't know what to make of it. Nobody ever asked about it and I certainly didn't volunteer. Jess and I were close though, for some reason we just gelled well.

"How was yours?" I asked.

She went on about her weekend and all the places she'd been to, granted she was quite a bit younger than my thirty four years, so I guess I couldn't begrudge her. She was married, but her husband worked abroad and only came home for a week every three months.

"But you really need to meet someone girl, I need to live vicariously through you," she laughed.

"Don't hold your breath babe," I countered.

Honestly though, I wasn't completely opposed to a social life or dating, I was just tired of the one dimensional bullshit, so I decided to take a nice, long break. Then there was Seth, my dad never minded "baby-sitting" even if he had to do it at my place. My friends also knew better than to ask me to go anywhere on a tournament weekend.

*_*

Emile

"I hope this one is better than the last two, how could there not be a single person there who could remotely relate to our brand, damn yuppies!" I asked, annoyed.

We were in the Maybach, driving to the third agency we were meeting this week and I had yet to see a worthwhile concept.

"Boss, maybe you should take the lead on the next meeting, might be easier for you to get what you want?" Tony asked.

"No, I pay you to be the face of the business, you know I prefer it that way."

As soon as Flatline started making it big, there was no shortage of people looking for a handout or just wanting to be around us for the money. Once, I met a beautiful woman in a bar, I joked that Tony was the owner of the brand and abruptly her attention shifted to him. So what started as a joke, became my cover from that day on.

In terms of business it had been a good strategy as well, I posed as his assistant which allowed me to appraise everyone in meetings very carefully. Nobody ever paid attention to the assistant. I came from nothing, from the hood so I had no problem keeping it real humble, it came naturally, as did my ruthless business sense.

Finally we were seated in the conference room, I scanned the room and stopped on a woman and as her eyes met mine I was taken aback. She was striking, all wide curves, long dark hair, tropical ocean blue eyes and smooth caramel skin. Her eyes flashed something, annoyance? It was gone before I could be sure.

She had a hot body, but dressed like a prude, a shame she wasn't ideal for my brand either then. Tony continued with the meeting, and I scanned the rest of the room, all yuppies too. That was disappointing. My eyes stopped at the woman again, I spotted her bruised eye under loads of makeup and found myself frowning. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring, so would she really stick around with an abusive boyfriend?

As she reached for her glass of water, her shirt sleeve came unbuttoned and I caught a glimpse of some tattoos under her prissy shirt. There was no way that was a little heart or rose, what I just saw looked like a sleeve. Damn this woman had managed to shock me three times in just 5 mins. My gaze was intense, little Miss Priss was hiding some serious street under her fussy clothes, she may not have wanted to show these assholes, which just made her even more intriguing.

The meeting carried on and I couldn't stop staring, wondering what else she was hiding. She looked up at me and it hit me like a sucker punch. I wanted to peel back her layers, find out who this woman really was and suddenly I was picturing myself peeling back that prissy shirt and skirt, imagining what I'd find under there. While I mentally worked my way down a list of how I would have liked to take her, she was still looking at me and blushed slightly before returning her attention to the meeting.

I had been half listening to the pitch, it was surprisingly good, the best of the lot. We were definitely going with this agency, as soon as the presentation was over I leaned over and whispered something to Tony.

He looked over at everyone and said "Gentlemen and Lady, I have an urgent call I need to attend to, please excuse us for a few minutes."

*_*

Kay

Mitch was all over the presentation but I felt like I could have done better, it was all my work anyway. With a mental sigh I let it go, there was no point in being salty, it was what it was.

I looked over and found the assistant staring at me, he was really attractive. Strong, wide jaw, chiselled features, tall, handsome as sin and judging by his shape and wide shoulders he was quite muscular too. He had the air of danger, an edge, like he was a powerhouse, a bomb waiting to explode. I saw the same surprised look I get every time a guy looks me in the eye, the unusual contrast of my eyes and skin colour almost always gets the same reaction. Suddenly I was annoyed, it was so boring, predictable and I was actually a little disappointed.

It was for the best anyway, I didn't need any more bad boy liaisons, been there, got burned. The meeting carried on, I focused on the owner as he spoke, his assistant was definitely a lot more attractive than him, but I was sure he had no problems with female attention considering his healthy bank balance. His face was passive, I couldn't read if he liked the pitch or not, damn.

I looked at the assistant again, our eyes locked and I was stunned by the intense look of a predator eyeing his prey. He held my gaze, I blushed slightly and finally managed to look away, damn I couldn't decide if I was pissed at such an overt display or if it turned me on. Maybe a bit of both? Holy shit that was crazy, I was relieved when they both left the room for a few minutes. Our team was silent and the atmosphere was heavy, all we could do now was wait for their decision.

Finally, they returned and Mr Richards addressed Mitch, "We love your ideas for the campaign, we'll sign, on one condition" I could feel the tension rolling off Mitch, this account would elevate us to another level.

Mr Richards looked me straight in the eye and said "We want her to head up the campaign".

            
            

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