Toey drew a quiet breath before knocking on his boss's door and pushing it open. Teeradon sat hunched over his new beige leather chair, fingers pressed against his temples, head bowed over documents scattered across his desk. A few more papers lay abandoned on the floor.
Probably had another solo tantrum. At least he didn't throw a chair through the window this time...
"What is it, Toey?"
"There's an important guest here to see you, sir. His name is—" Toey's voice remained perfectly level.
"I already told you I don't want to see anyone." Teeradon's tone was sharp, cutting.
The secretary said nothing, simply stood there until his boss finally looked up with raised eyebrows. Only then did he speak softly: "In that case, I'll go tell Mr. Wittawin to leave."
"Why didn't you say who it was in the first place?" Teeradon's voice grew even sharper—when his mood turned this foul, his secretary could still manage to irritate him with that stone-faced expression.
"Because you didn't let me finish." Toey muttered under his breath as he walked out.
Teeradon inhaled deeply. His expression shifted from moments before, the world seeming a shade brighter. But after waiting more than a minute, his 'important guest' still hadn't opened the door. The young executive jabbed the intercom button with unnecessary force.
"Toey."
"Yes, sir?" The secretary's voice responded immediately.
Teeradon said nothing more, ending the communication there, then leaned back in his chair to 'wait'—uncomfortably so, for three reasons: First, he was surprised that Wittawin had suddenly shown up at his office. Second, he knew Toey was deliberately playing psychological warfare, making him wait. And third, Wittawin now knew about his involvement with Pirayu, his own friend.
Toey probably told Wittawin: 'Please wait a moment before going in. Let Mr. Don stew in his thoughts for a couple of minutes until he goes crazy.'
That secretary deserves to be fired...
The sound of the door opening and being pushed slowly inward. Teeradon leaned forward to pick up a pen, placing his elbows on the desk and bowing his head over documents. Mentally, he counted the footsteps of his approaching visitor. When he was certain Wittawin had stopped in front of his desk, he looked up.
Pale skin, dark eyebrows, prominent nose, red lips, and those plump cheeks. Today Wittawin looks different—dressed so properly, like a fresh graduate coming for a job interview. Is this really the same 27-year-old senior engineer, the company's brilliant golden boy?
"Please, have a seat." Teeradon gestured with his hand.
"That's alright. I'm here for a brief matter. I'll leave soon." Wittawin's voice remained as steady as always.
"I'd like you to sit."
"I'd prefer to stand."
"Suit yourself." Teeradon shrugged, tossing his pen onto the desk and leaning back in his large executive chair. His hands clasped over his chest, he tilted his head, waiting to hear the 'business' of the man who had been increasingly disturbing his peace of mind with each passing day.
"I want you to stop interfering with Pirayu." Wittawin got straight to the point.
"Jealous?" Teeradon raised an eyebrow. "Or possessive?"
"Pirayu is a good person with a pure heart. He doesn't deserve to be hurt like this. I've known Pirayu for a long time—my friend always has a smile on his face. I don't want to see him cry."
"Such devotion to a friend." Teeradon spoke quietly, then turned to look out the window, as if making some decision before turning back to Wittawin, who remained standing motionless. "But I'm not bored with him yet."
"Khun Teeradon." Wittawin's eyes flashed with steel, his voice growing intense. "You have plenty of other people. You could have anyone, anywhere. Why does it have to be Pirayu?"
"Anyone, anywhere?" Teeradon asked.
"Someone as handsome and wealthy as you can choose, can't you? So please, leave Pirayu alone. There are plenty of people ready to have fun with the president of a liquor company who owns the most luxurious clubs." Wittawin spoke while shrugging, but his face turned away to the side.
"You're speaking out of concern for your friend."
"Pity," Wittawin replied immediately.
"If I find someone new, I'll agree to your terms." Teeradon smiled at the corner of his mouth. "Before Pirayu and I get too deeply infatuated with each other."
"As if you could ever become infatuated with Pirayu. You just want to toy with him and then toss him aside. You're probably bored with celebrities now, so you think a kindergarten teacher might provide some entertainment too. Consider it a change of taste." Wittawin spoke at greater length than usual.
Change of taste? He's got some nerve. When he himself went for a change of scenery by the sea with Baramee...
"Mmm." Teeradon nodded slowly, deliberately 'toying' with Wittawin's emotions. "How about this..."
The computer engineer's patience was wearing thin. Teeradon's smug expression was becoming unbearably irritating. Right now, he wanted to grab a screwdriver and jab it into those cunning eyes.
Teeradon was deliberately pausing to make him wait anxiously for an answer...
"I refuse," Teeradon finally said.
Wittawin exhaled sharply through his nose, then immediately turned and walked back toward the door, feeling he'd wasted his time trying to reason with a playboy like Teeradon.
"But if you become my boyfriend," Teeradon called after him, "I'll stop pursuing Pirayu."
"Are you insane?" Wittawin spun around, eyes blazing.
"We've just started dating. If we break up, your friend probably won't be too heartbroken. I haven't told him I love him or shown him that I'm deeply infatuated. But I believe your friend will fall hopelessly in love with me if I become two or three times sweeter than I am now. No one has ever escaped me. I have overwhelming charm—a hundred percent success rate. Everyone falls for me." Teeradon laughed softly.
"Conceited."
"Including you, Wittawin." Teeradon stared at Wittawin's face intently.
Alright, time for Kamikaze bombing. Let's see if I'am going to lose…
***
Wittawin revved his beloved BMW motorcycle back to the company, feeling increasingly irritated. Teeradon's final words still echoed in his ears.
A hundred percent success rate. Everyone falls for me. Including you...
In your dreams...
When he reached the company, the network engineer went straight to collapse on the sofa beside the desk he'd claimed as his own, with Pamorn needling him about it every day.
Today was no different. Pamorn's voice rang out immediately upon seeing the man lying with arms crossed and eyes closed, dressed unusually formally.
"Living the easy life, aren't you? Taking a nap before 4:30 PM. I'm going to report you to Sarayoot."
"You little tattletale," Wittawin murmured with his eyes still closed.
"So you admit defeat then?" Pamorn chuckled. "Why do you bother with him anyway? You know he's a playboy. Haven't you heard that loving a playboy means wiping your tears with your heel?"
"Stop talking, you labor bee." [Note: In Thai, the word 'pamorn' means 'bee.'
"Better to accept love from someone who secretly loves you. It's good deed—helping pull someone up from the abyss of suffering." Pamorn wouldn't let up.
Wittawin fell silent, no longer engaging with Pamorn's chatter, knowing the other would eventually tire and stop on his own.
Secret love? Accept love from someone who secretly loves him? He can't do that. He doesn't love them. How can you force your heart so easily like that?
Love... you can't clap with one hand...
***