Page 15 of King of Wands

Chapter 6

The Lion Prowls

Itapped the desk with my pen. “I need the helmet designs by lunch.” The last week had been all work and no play. After King’s confession on the swing we returned to a very professional relationship of him keeping his distance and me drooling from afar.

This was made easier by the fact that he was gone most of the time. This last weekend they raced in Austria. They arrived back today and were here for the next two weeks because the next race was here in Great Britain. It was a huge week for promotions. Factory tours were scheduled, special cars arranged for both Yedlin and King, appearances, and even a demonstration in London.

It was fast but it was the perfect time to debut King’s new look and presence. The good part was that we’d get instant results—good or bad—which was why I needed the helmet designsnow.I was meeting with Richard and King over lunch to finalize everything and get it into production.

“Here are the pictures from the shoot and the planned social media posts for the week.” Jess slid a glossy contact sheet onto my desk. She’d become my defacto assistant this week and I was grateful.

“Jess...these are brilliant!” All it took was a glance to see how talented she was...and that King looked good in every situation. A small part of me was jealous that Jess spent so much time with him getting these shots.

“Thanks. I really liked doing it. More than I thought I would.”

“How so?” Jess was finishing a degree in fashion photography and by the looks of it, her skills transitioned perfectly to racing. Her pictures of the car were gorgeous and she captured King’s features in a way that made me stop and stare—not that I wouldn’t do that anyway—but still, she knew how to draw the eye in each photograph so that something different jumped out at me. And then she used that intention to create social media posts around the concept. It was perfect and would really help the fans get to know King better.

“I like the storytelling aspect, I guess.” She shrugged. “I knew what story I wanted to tell, made the pictures happen, and then got to craft the results. It was very satisfying.”

“Meaning we’ll be able to get you to do this again?”

She bounced her eyebrows a few times and grinned mischievously. “My fee goes up after graduation.”

“Oh no. You won’t be asking for sexual favors will you? Because I’m afraid to tell you I’m just not into you in that way.”

“No!” She whimpered, clutching her heart dramatically. “You’ve broken me!”

“Stop breaking the interns,” Richard said as he swept by. “Meeting. Now.”

“Crap.” One more glance at my email told me the designs still weren’t in. “At least you were on time. I’ll start with these. Thanks, Jess.”

“Of course. Are you going to the party tonight?”

I froze halfway through gathering my things. “What party?”

“The Speakeasy Distilling party.”

And...crap times two. Ididknow about the party and forgot about it in the madness of the week. Speakeasy Distilling was Marcy’s company and she’d told me all about it. She threw it every year before the British Grand Prix.

I shoved the last of my stuff into a folder. “I need to find a dress. And shoes.”

“Cutting it pretty close aren’t you?”

She followed me as I wound my way through the cubicles. “I forgot to get one. All I’ve thought about this week is getting this done.” I held up the infernal folder of work.

“How about this. I’ll run by that boutique we stopped in a few weeks ago and get you something. I remember which dresses you looked at.”

“Would you?” I was the worst at picking dresses. I always got so turned around and confused by all the choices and ended up leaving without buying anything. Which was how I wound up dressless the day of the party I’d known about for weeks.

“Yep. And I’ll loan you some shoes so you don’t have to stand around in stiff new heels.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.” She stopped outside the conference room door and grinned. “Now, go knock ‘em dead.”

* * *

King staredat the two different helmet designs instead of me. He hadn’t looked at me once, actually. When he walked in he mumbled a greeting. His attention was always on his phone or the information I placed in front of him. I was starting to feel like maybe hecouldn’tlook at me, which could mean only one thing: he regretted what he said at the swing.

---