The afternoon dragged on with little work. Toey sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen with a smile that flickered between subtle and triumphant. Meanwhile, Teeradon, his notorious playboy boss, sat in his office looking thoroughly bored.
Work's done. Nothing to do. Might as well go chat with our charming Casanova.
The bored secretary pushed back from his chair and strolled into his boss's office. The moment he reached the center of the room, the man who had been standing with arms crossed, gazing pensively out the window, sensed his presence. Teeradon turned slowly, studying his approaching employee with the air of someone weighing a decision.
"Toey, could you help me with something?"
"Of course. I was born to assist you, Khun Don." Toey's voice dripped with mock sincerity.
"Cut the sarcasm."
"I was not sarcastic?" Toey arranged his features into a mask of innocence.
"Back up the data from my phone to the computer," Teeradon said quietly.
"Worried about losing your photos?" Toey leaned forward with exaggerated concern.
"Yes, I'm afraid I might accidentally delete Wittawin's pictures. Afraid my phone might get stolen. Afraid the memory might crash. Is that the answer you wanted to hear?"
"Geez, I ask a simple question and you bite my head off." Toey extended his hand for the phone, then added, "Should I delete the numbers you never call while I'm at it?"
"Just back it up." Teeradon's sigh carried the weight of resignation.
"Yes, sir." Toey nodded and left the office in silence.
Back at his desk, the technologically gifted secretary opened the new photos he'd just received from one of their partners at Network Solutions.
Photo number five. Something for Teeradon to enjoy. This time, skip the MMS—send it via email so he can see it full-screen in all its glory. Fresh shots by the pool in Hua Hin. If he's not already obsessed with Wittawin, this ought to seal the deal.
Toey typed a brief message to accompany the email to his boss, carefully attaching the newly acquired image.
During lunch break, he'd called the computer company to "chat up" Sarayoot, but the good-natured older man wasn't in. Instead, he'd spoken with Pamorn, the other partner who seemed well aware of the "relationship" between their two companies. Luckily, Pamorn proved far more creative and bolder than Sarayoot, providing Toey with another "quality" photo.
Just one picture, but it's the crown jewel among the four photos that my troublesome boss requested when he asked me to back up his phone.
He wants to see that fair-skinned face with dark eyebrows, prominent nose, and red lips filling his entire screen, but he won't just ask for it.
After completing his "work," the efficient secretary propped his chin on his hand and waited for his boss to emerge. Within five minutes, Teeradon opened his door, face carefully composed in neutral lines. But Toey could see through the attempted stoicism—his boss was desperately trying to maintain his 'image.'
That sparkle in your eyes isn't hidden very well, Khun Don.
That sparkle that's dying to ask me, "Are there more?"
"Yes?" Toey raised an eyebrow with practiced innocence, the same expression he wore whenever Teeradon was about to give him an assignment.
"Are you finished?" Teeradon asked softly.
"Not yet," Toey replied. "Backing up a phone takes considerable time."
"When you're done, put it on my desk." Teeradon turned to head back to his office.
"You need it quick so you can compare all four photos with the fifth one so you can see them clearly on the big computer screen?" Toey called after him.
Teeradon froze mid-step, then continued walking. His secretary pressed on: "There's a new movie out today. I'd like to ask permission to leave a couple hours early."
"Mm-hmm." Teeradon made a sound of acknowledgment and disappeared into his office.
By now he's probably craning his neck at the screen until he gets a crick. Wonder if he knows how to rotate the image.
"Toey." The intercom crackled to life.
"Yes?" Toey answered with a grin.
"How do you rotate a picture?" Teeradon's voice remained perfectly level.
Toey smiled and provided professional instructions for adjusting the image viewer, though he was tempted to suggest: "Just grab the monitor and spin it around."
Are you ready, Teeradon? Time to arrange for Sarayoot to send our 'defendant' to court.
Ten minutes before his requested departure time, Toey remembered he needed to email all department heads about Friday's meeting agenda. He began typing without delay.
But his pale, clean hands froze over the keyboard. The young man typing in such haste slowly lifted his head, sending a questioning look toward the figure standing with hands on hips in front of his desk.
"Toey." Teeradon's voice was unnaturally flat, his expression stranger than his secretary had ever seen.
"Yes?" came the brief response.
"Do you think I'm handsome?"
"You're quite handsome," Toey answered with equal composure, unsurprised by his boss's sudden personality shift—he'd learned to expect the unexpected from this man.
"Then why aren't you in love with me?"
Now I'm surprised.
"Are you insane, Khun Don?" Toey's expression and tone shifted instantly. "What kind of crazy thinking is that?"
"Don't you think I'm handsome, rich, cool, sexy enough to make you want to throw yourself at me? We're together every day—how can you be immune to my charms? You know everyone wants me. Actors, singers, male models, female models, high society types—even clients who come for business meetings want to devour me." Teeradon's voice grew louder, his face returning to the familiar animation Toey knew so well.
"I've never seen you naked. How would I know?" Toey's voice remained level as he raised his right hand to prop up his chin and picked up a pencil with his left to fidget with.
"Damn it." Teeradon exhaled forcefully, looking left and right in agitation.
"Should I make you an appointment with a doctor?" the capable secretary offered. "Dr. Chanachol at Samitivej Hospital has office hours on Friday. I recommend him—graduated from the US, clear complexion, fair skin, dark eyebrows, prominent nose, red lips. Very similar features. Close your eyes for a moment and you won't be able to tell the difference."
"You're about to get fired." Teeradon's threat came out as a growl before he stalked away.
"You've been threatening that forever without following through. Just making all these dramatic gestures—I'm starting to think you're not serious," Toey muttered under his breath. But his boss, nearly at the door, caught enough to turn back with a stern command:
"You'd better deliver him, Toey. Even if I have to send security to knock him out and drag him here."
"Security won't be able to handle someone like Wittawin. You'd need a commando unit for that." Toey's response came with a chuckle as he looked down at his keyboard, ignoring his boss's demonic expression before the office door slammed with thunderous force.
This is what it takes for Teeradon to wake up. Someone just needs to tame this man.
Toey waited a moment, then resumed typing—not the pending work, but an email message:
"I do think you're handsome, cool, and incomparably sexy. But I don't like players, show-offs, attention seekers, or narcissists, so I'm safely immune. I don't have to fall into the abyss of love like certain people. Most importantly, you're not my type. Even if you stood naked in front of me, I'd run to my car and drive far away. Have a good day."
The young secretary smiled, grabbed his phone, wallet, and car keys, then clicked "send" before hurrying to the door—before the "sulking handsome man in a square frame" could bounce up from his chair and storming out to confront him.
After the movie with Sarayoot, then I'll talk to the "gentle uncle" about sending his "stubborn nephew" to meet our "trouble-seeking boss" who's on the verge of madness.
Teeradon is ready now.
***