The Pitch

I step back into my office, silent and still. Awaiting my command to close the portal. I step around the frozen in time Kate, see her eyes still shining with excitement and pride in her creation. My chair is still in its reclined position. I settle in and close the portal as time catches back up to me.

Kate’s voice resumes like a note held in suspension.

“…I think we can both benefit from this.”

She’s still seated across from me, leaning forward ever so slightly, her lips forming the last syllable. But something in her stops. I see it flicker across her face, a flash of awareness.

I’m different.

My smile is slower. Measured. Confident in a way I wasn’t before.

She senses the shift. She doesn’t know why.

But she likes it.

I smooth my red tie down the center of my shirt and clear my throat. “As I mentioned… your photos are amazing. Really. But they need a sharper vision. Something with teeth. Direction.”

Kate’s lips curve into a smile, slow and wicked. “Does this mean… you’ll be my partner?”

I nod once, deliberately.

She lets out a small squeal and bounces slightly in her seat, her skirt hitching just a breath too high — enough for the image to burn into my mind.

“Fantastic!” she beams. “Which shoot did you want to do first?”

I rise, letting the moment stretch. I take my time, circling the desk, letting my presence fill the space. Her eyes track me, alert, eager. I place my forefinger on the first of the printed concepts — the bikini set. I drag it toward her, slow and deliberate.

Then I place it on the second — the tasteful nudes. And push that one forward too.

She starts to speak, her brows pinching in thought — but I cut her off with a silent, dominant final gesture.

The third.

The sheer lingerie set.

I press it forward.

“All three,” I say.

Kate’s eyes flick up to mine, wide — but she doesn’t flinch. She tilts her head, lips parting, almost teasing.

“We want this launch to succeed,” I continue. “then we don’t push envelopes. We throw them into a damn furnace and we light the match.”

Her laugh is low, throaty. “You've already planned it all in your head, haven’t you?”

She doesn’t know the half of it. I wouldn't even be able to explain it if I could.

I nod toward the prototype she now wears around her neck. “May I?”

Kate doesn’t hesitate. She unclasps it, the chain slipping between her fingers like a string of silk. I take it, let it dangle between my fingers. The crystal still glints with the faintest shimmer, the light catching my memory of where it’s been. How she held it within a pool of explicitness.

I study it, then meet her eyes.

“Can I be frank?”

“We are partners here,” she replies.

“It’s elegant,” I say. “But… it’s too cute.” I proffer, firm but respectful.

She leans in, intrigued. “What would you do differently?”

I move to the drawer and pull out my sketchpad and pencils. “Let me show you.”

Drawing’s always been second nature. But today? It’s something else. The pencil glides like it’s been waiting. I don’t hesitate, don’t pause. I’m not just sketching, I’m presenting. I recreate the necklace, but the vial? It changes. Subtle, sleek... it's more intimate. The shape, the curvature, not explicit, but unmistakably and clearly feminine. It doesn’t scream sex. It whispers it. Breathes it.

I push the sketch across the desk.

Kate stares at it for a long beat. Then, slowly, she exhales. Her chest rising beneath her tailored jacket. “God,” she murmurs. “It’s… me.” She says shocked. She couldn't know how I was so able to accurately copy the curve of her own folds... but thankfully she doesn't ask.

“If you’re going to call the scent Kate, then it should be Kate.”

She lifts her eyes. “I think this is gonna be a very good partnership.”

Her fingers linger on the sketch a moment longer, like she's unknowingly letting me see what she's done to herself.

We both slide into the logistics. The nudes can shoot in my office. The rooftop infinity pool shoot. The sheer lingerie by a canopy bed on a private beach. I walk her through each one and she’s utterly captivated. Hanging on my every word. Her professional mask slips, replaced by unfiltered anticipation.

Iris knocks once, opens the door.

“I found three rooftop infinity pools,” she announces, eyes flicking from me to Kate. “All within a fifteen-mile radius. One of them has sunset views and built-in lighting systems.”

Of course she did.

Kate raises a brow. “Your assistant is terrifyingly efficient.”

“She’s one of a kind.”

“Mm. I knew I was coming to the right place.”

She presents the contracts. The words clear and binding. 50/50 split in the profit... after the investors get their share back of course.

“Fifty-fifty split,” she clarifies to me. “No bullshit.”

“No bullshit.” I repeat back.

“Good.” We signs.

Then, without warning, she produces an envelope and sets it on the table in front of me. “This… is for your time.”

I open it.

Six figures.

$250,000.

My hand stills over the stack of checks. I blink once. Kate smiles.

“It's a signing bonus. I play for keeps.”

I lean back in my chair, grinning. “I see that.”

Truth is, I’ve never struggled. My studio pulls in more than enough. But this? This changes everything. The nest egg becomes a fortress. The cushion becomes a kingdom.

Kate stands. Smooths her skirt. Her jacket shifts just enough to reveal the shape of her breasts underneath — and I remember, all too vividly, how they looked in satin, in both sunlight and moonlight, glistening with salt and sweat and more.

I meet her gaze, offer my hand. She takes it. Both soft and strong.

“Here’s to Kate,” I say.

Her smile is ferocious. “You have no idea what we’ve just started.”