Malee's POV
It had been a week.
Seven days, ten nights, and still that woman haunted Malee's thoughts.
Malee Charoensuk leaned lazily against the railing of a rooftop café in Sukhumvit, sunglasses perched on her face, pretending to listen as June ranted about another exhausting photoshoot. But her mind wasn't anywhere near latex outfits or modeling contracts.
"...and then they said I had to wear latex in this heat!" June groaned, stabbing her fork into a sad cube of watermelon. "Do I look like someone who enjoys marinating in a plastic sauna?"
"Mmm," Malee replied vaguely, stirring her iced Americano.
June narrowed her eyes. "You didn't hear a single word."
"I did. Latex. Sweat. Misery. Got it." Malee smirked.
June folded her arms, leaning forward with that look the one that said she'd sniffed out her friend's distraction. "You're thinking about her again, aren't you?"
Malee didn't deny it. Her smirk turned softer, almost wistful. "She had this... fire in her eyes, June. The kind that says, 'I don't need you.' And it only made me want her more."
June groaned. "Malee, for God's sake. You don't even know her name."
"I don't need to. I'll find her."
"You say that every day." June jabbed at her fruit plate. "For all you know, she was a tourist passing through Bangkok for one weekend. And you're building her up like some kind of myth."
Malee shook her head firmly. "No. She's not a tourist. Her Thai was too smooth. No slip-ups. Not the kind of thing you pick up in a few weeks. She belongs here... or at least, she's meant to be here."
June groaned dramatically. "Listen to you. Bangkok's biggest troublemaker turned hopeless romantic."
Malee tipped her sunglasses down and gave her friend a grin. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I'm just tired of people who throw themselves at me. She didn't. She looked me in the eye and dismissed me like I wasn't Malee Charoensuk. That was new. And exciting."
"Or maybe," June muttered, "she just didn't like you."
Malee grinned wider. "And that makes her even more interesting."
That evening, despite June's protests, Malee returned to the bar where it had all started.
The neon lights glowed softer this time, the crowd thinner, the music slower. She chose the same corner seat where Aria had once sat.
The bartender raised an eyebrow as he wiped down the counter. "You again. Same drink?"
Malee nodded, swirling her wine after it was poured. Her eyes flicked toward the empty stool beside her.
"She hasn't been back, you know," the bartender said casually.
Malee's brows lifted. "You remember her?"
"Hard to forget someone who twists a drunk guy's arm without breaking a sweat. Cold as ice, but...." He smirked. "There was kindness underneath. Weird combo."
Malee's lips curled in something softer than her usual smirk. "She's not cold. She's protecting something. Someone like that doesn't let people in easily."
The bartender chuckled. "You always this poetic when you chase women?"
"Only the ones who don't want to be chased," Malee muttered into her glass.
The hours passed. People came and went. Still, Malee stayed, her gaze locked on the door. Waiting. Hoping.
When the bar finally dimmed its lights to signal last call, she whispered into her drink:
"I'll find you. Even if it takes forever."
Aria's POV
The week had swallowed Aria Garcia whole.
Her days were consumed by boardrooms, strategy meetings, endless pitch decks, and back-to-back conference calls. Her phone never stopped buzzing. If her mind ever dared to drift, her calendar yanked it back with sharp reminders.
8:30 AM – Product Launch Brainstorming | Boardroom A
She exhaled sharply and strode down the polished corridor of the high-rise, her black heels clicking in perfect rhythm. The Chao Phraya River glittered far below through glass walls, but she didn't spare it a glance.
Inside the meeting room, Pim her efficient assistant was already setting up slides.
"Good morning, Ma'am," Pim chirped. "We finalized the mock-ups for the packaging. And Krit wanted to pitch the idea of a celebrity partner this time."
Aria arched a brow. "A celebrity? For a skin care line?"
"High-end. Exclusive. Aiming for younger demographics. It could work."
Aria leaned back in her chair, studying the slides with cool detachment. "Fine. But shortlist carefully. Someone who brings buzz without risk. No scandals."
"Understood. I'll check agency rosters and come back with names."
"And line up next week's PR briefing. I want everything airtight before the soft launch."
Pim hesitated. "Yes, Ma'am. But..." She fidgeted. "If I may you've been working nonstop since last quarter. Maybe take a day off? Even half a day?"
For a second just a second Aria's eyes flickered with something unguarded. Fatigue. Or maybe loneliness. But it vanished just as quickly.
"I'll rest after the launch."
Pim sighed, scribbling notes.
As the meeting droned on, voices blending into static, Aria's mind betrayed her. For just a moment, she saw a pair of mischievous brown eyes and heard a teasing voice say: 'You'll remember me.'
Her chest tightened. She shut it down instantly.
That night, after another fourteen-hour day, Aria sat by her apartment window overlooking Bangkok's skyline. She poured herself a glass of whisky, the same as that night in the bar.
But instead of solace, the liquor only sharpened the memory she was trying to bury. Malee's grin. Malee's perfume. Malee's fearlessness.
Aria closed her eyes and muttered to herself.
"She's just a distraction. Nothing more."
Yet even as she tried to convince herself, her heart beat faster traitorously at the thought of meeting her again.