Wittawin lifted his hands from the computer keyboard when he sensed someone standing behind him—someone he could identify without turning around.
Before the person could ask anything, the stubborn engineer hurried to answer first.
"I went, okay? He wasn't there as usual. Sat waiting for almost an hour. He must think I have nothing better to do than play these ridiculous games."
"I know," Sarayoot said flatly. "And also..."
"Don't tell me he had his secretary call to order me to go apologize him again."
"He called to apologize."
"Did the boss call himself, or did he have his secretary call, or did the secretary call on his own because it's his job?" Wittawin wrinkled his nose in displeasure.
"Whoever called doesn't matter. Anyway..."
"Uncle Yoot, Every day I have to go to apologize him about a wrench that barely grazed his head. If I'd known it would come to this, I should have let them crack his skull open. Then I could buy a fruit basket and crawl to apologize at the hospital instead."
"Win." Sarayoot's voice grew stern as he sat down on the young engineer's desk, who was now pouting at his computer screen.
"Just one more time. Don't force me again. I'll meet him one more time. If I don't get to see him this time, I'm never going again. If he wants to fire me, let him try. I'll sue." Wittawin's voice hardened. "And I'll send Nuke to demolish that company's network system until it's completely destroyed."
"Then you'll get arrested by the police," Sarayoot said with a straight face, looking down at the young man who had started browsing motorcycle pictures.
"I'm not stupid enough to leave traces for the police to find me."
"And stop thinking about getting a new motorcycle. I told you it's dangerous," Sarayoot said sternly.
"When have I ever crashed?"
"Never crashed, but you did race that red sports car and he had to swerve into a garbage bin. If he had pursued damages, where would you get the money to pay?"
"We're in different leagues. Real racers don't demand compensation for paint scratches from their competitors," Wittawin shrugged. "I should go smack Pamorn's mouth. He talks too much."
"Tuesday, nine in the morning. Go meet Khun Teeradon and apologize to him properly. Then I'll have someone else handle the remaining work. Once he pays us, we won't have to deal with that company anymore." Sarayoot concluded and stood up, then turned to warn the tall man once more. "I'm worried about you. I don't want you driving fast—it's dangerous. If I didn't care, I wouldn't warn you."
"I know," Wittawin looked up with a placating smile for the person who wanted to act like his second father. "If my parents knew that Khun Praoprawan's nephew wanted to take care of me this much, even though we're distantly related, they'd be very happy."
Sarayoot smiled back and patted Wittawin's shoulder gently before saying, "And if your parents in heaven knew their only son was this stubborn and reckless, always courting danger, they'd probably want to give you a good spanking."
"That would be nice. I haven't been punished in a very long time," Wittawin grinned widely.
"Acting tough. If you really got hit, what would you say?"
"Who's going to hit me? You?" Wittawin raised an eyebrow, tilted his head, and made a challenging expression.
"Don't forget, Win. Go apologize to him properly and put my mind at ease," Sarayoot changed the subject and walked away.
"Yes, boss," Wittawin acknowledged, then smiled to himself before slumping his face down on the desk. In his mind, he could see the sharp, intense face of the man in the dark suit who had looked up at him with those strange eyes.
Sharp, piercing eyes that looked fierce, but with a hint of mischief. What a player...
If I'd known this would happen, when I reached down to catch the wrench, I should have pretended to drop it on his head. Serves him right.
Toey smiled with satisfaction when he heard the voice of the person answering his call. That evening, he phoned Sarayoot again to confirm the date and time for Wittawin to meet Teeradon, and to thank him for sending Wittawin's photos.
"I must apologize for calling to bother you so often, Khun Sarayoot, but..."
"It's no trouble at all. I don't consider it a bother. Khun Teeradon is an important client," Sarayoot quickly interjected in a gentle voice. "But please bear with Wittawin. He's rather hot-headed and speaks very directly. Computer engineers are like that."
They smiled, thinking…Khun Teeradon is pretty direct too. Hot-tempered as well. They'll probably have a great argument. That's why I haven't let them meet yet.
Wait for the right moment first. There's still something I needs to do to make sure Teeradon is truly 'ready'
"You're so kind, Khun Sarayoot. I'd like to treat you to dinner as thanks. Without you, I'd get scolded by my boss for not completing the assigned work," Toey said sweetly.
"It's no trouble. It's for the client."
"Do you believe in doing anything for clients, just like our company, to make the client satisfied?" Toey laughed cheerfully, his mind rapidly planning how to 'conquer' the stern-faced, serious man like Sarayoot, since it was rare to meet someone who fit his type.
"In that case, when I get back from Hua Hin, I'd like to invite you to dinner at The Dazzle. Please don't refuse—consider it my way of thanking you for your help." They continued.
"Er..." Sarayoot hesitated.
"If you don't want to come alone, feel free to bring Khun Wittawin along. I can treat him as an apology too." Toey played his aggressive game, not giving Sarayoot a chance to compose himself.
This time, the world will be rosy...
I'm truly happy to be matchmaking. Whether as a secretary or a caretaker, this time let me be Cupid just once.
Teeradon sat alone in his large black leather chair in the control room, bored. Tonight he had no 'companion' beside him as he did every night. After leaving the company, he went home to rest and gather his strength, then returned to work at the club, stopping by the management office to sign documents first.
Teeradon had an office on the top floor, but he rarely went up there unless he needed private time to work without interruption. When he came to the club, he usually sat in the room he called the 'control room.'
"You look stressed, Khun Teeradon," Montha, the older secretary with a composed face, walked over and spoke softly.
"Do I look stressed?" Teeradon shrugged.
"Stressed about the club's increased revenue?" Montha replied flatly. Teeradon looked up at her and smiled thinly, unable to help comparing the club secretary with his company secretary.
These two are completely different. If it were Toey speaking, he'd be dramatic and flustered. But this is Montha, who hardly ever smiles. I see it as showing concern.
Toey is concerned too, but he tends to be 'overly' concerned almost every time.
I should swap their workplaces.
"You should find a girlfriend. You'd look better and be happier."
"Do I look that miserable?" Teeradon raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear the secretary express personal opinions—it was very rare to hear anything like this from Montha's mouth.
"Happiness that's not just fun and games," Montha answered briefly, then took the document folder from his hand before turning to walk back to her desk.
Teeradon wanted to ask for clarification, but the composed secretary had already bent her head down to finish her work and prepare to go home. He didn't want to disturb her.
He was happy enough. He didn't see what was miserable about it. A bit tired from working two jobs, but everything seemed to be going well. He got headaches sometimes when his secretary annoyed him.
Including that speed-demon motorcyclist.
What was he doing at his company three times in a row.
Oh, and that stubborn red-lipped little monkey too. These were the things that irritated him.
As long as he couldn't 'snatch' that rider's helmet off, his bad mood wouldn't go away. He really wanted to know if the face would match that beautiful rear end.
And as long as Wittawin didn't come to meet him as ordered, he'd probably remain annoyed. He really wanted to know what that blank, annoying face would look like when he walked in, sat at the desk, and apologized. Not to mention when he showed him the photos of when he snuck into the club and got carried out by security and dumped in front of the club.
Just thinking about it was entertaining.
But why did he have this strange feeling that there was some connection between that obnoxious rider and the red-lipped young engineer?
He really didn't understand himself.
Tonight's events at The Dazzle proceeded smoothly as usual. Niwat, his important assistant, came in to report about the night Wittawin had snuck into the club.
"The side door guard, sir. He was probably friendly with some patron, so he let him in. Should I fire him?" Niwat asked.
"No need. But if it happens again, let him go." Teeradon looked serious. "Pay the usual compensation."
Niwat nodded in acknowledgment, then hesitated for a moment before saying, "Er, and Khun Metas wants to see you."
"Who?" Teeradon asked, then glanced at his phone when he heard a notification that a message had come in.
"The singer who performed tonight. You chose him yourself."
"Oh." Teeradon looked like he remembered, then glanced at his phone again when another notification sounded.
"If you don't want to see him, I'll go tell him you have guests," Niwat offered a way out, seeing his boss looking distracted.
"Is he famous?" Teeradon asked, then looked at his phone once more.
Toey, what are you playing at? This is getting ridiculous.
Good thing his secretary at The Dazzle is the complete opposite of his secretary at Kunanon Brewery. If Montha sent him three consecutive messages like this, he'd definitely lose his mind.
"He's getting famous, and it looks like he'll be unstoppably popular. TrackMark Studio is planning to make his second album even though his first album came out less than a year ago. Now he's singing theme songs for blockbuster movies."
"Then invite him in," Teeradon nodded, then looked at his phone again when it chimed for the fourth time.
Toey, oh Toey. If these are photos of his secretary posing annoyingly, tomorrow he'll really send him to work at the warehouse, just watch...
Teeradon reached for his phone and pressed to view the first of the four messages immediately. But suddenly his jaw dropped, eyes wide.
"How is this possible?" Teeradon muttered, then lifted the phone closer to see the image clearly before quickly pressing to view the next message, which stunned him even more.
Teeradon liked the fourth photo the most. Challenging eyes, tilted head, fair cheeks, full red lips slightly parted.
Is this the little monkey who hung from the iron rail that day?
Really deserves a beating. On the ass.
Teeradon immediately dialed his clever secretary's number, but Toey's line was busy, so he looked at all four photos of Wittawin again, unable to suppress a satisfied smile.
If there were the kind of picture that many people liked to 'secretly photograph,' what would it like?
Tomorrow he'd probably have to give a super reward to this secretary who was more capable than anyone.
"Khun Teeradon," a soft voice calling made Teeradon look up to see the owner of the voice—a handsome young man with a good physique standing and smiling in the middle of the room.
Metas looked younger than expected. The young singer wore tight leather, a sleeveless flesh-colored shirt that showed off his strong muscles and clean, fair skin.
"I wanted to come thank you for giving me the opportunity to sing at The Dazzle," Metas smiled widely, his eyes sparkling. Teeradon immediately knew the young singer was attracted to him.
Hmm, he was attracted to Metas too.
"Too bad I didn't get a chance to watch. I arrived at the club a bit late today," Teeradon looked regretful and invited the young man to sit.
"I'm singing again tomorrow."
Metas answered with a smile and sat down near Teeradon, who watched the famous rock singer without blinking. Metas's tight outfit made his imagination run wild.
"Tomorrow I have to go to Hua Hin for an important meeting with the government. I don't know if you're aware that I work two jobs, Khun Metas."
"I know. You must be very busy," Metas shifted, spreading his legs slightly as if the sitting position was uncomfortable, further revealing his physique for Teeradon's eyes to survey.
The sound of Teeradon's phone receiving another message rang out, making the club owner unable to help but glance over, even though his eyes were currently surveying the feast before him.
Don't tell me it's the fifth photo of that young monkey.
"But I'm happy to sing at The Dazzle anytime you want, Khun Teeradon. My agency gives me full freedom. Everyone knows this place is very upscale, and no singer would refuse."
Or he could come sing privately, that wouldn't be objectionable.
Metas shifted again, this time leaning back against the chair, as if opening himself up for Teeradon to survey his body at leisure.
"In that case, would you like to sing for another night or two next month?" Teeradon proposed.
It worked. Metas's eyes flashed with joy before he leaned forward and thanked Teeradon profusely, promising not to disappoint him.
"I won't be disappointed. You're so excellent, Khun Metas. Everyone has to like you," Teeradon smiled, then invited the young singer to be his guest for drinks next Friday.
"We can discuss next month's performance too," Teeradon concluded. "But next month the club has a soft music theme. You do rock."
"I can adapt. I'll tone down my performance to be softer, more sweet pop-rock. The album has a few slow songs."
"But the tight leather outfit will have to be taken off," Teeradon smiled. "Er, I mean it might need to be changed."
Taking it off right now would be even better.
"Yes, sir. Whatever you command, Khun Teeradon," Metas smiled widely, showing he was 'willing' to do anything.
Sigh, if only that fair-skinned, dark-browed, sharp-nosed, red-lipped person would submit to him like this.
What madness is this? Talking with Metas, but I keep thinking about those four photos I just saw. And who knows if this fifth message contains an even more 'stunning' picture.
***