"My first five years as a wife were some of my best years," the chairwoman said, her face beaming as she arrived. "All we did was run around and cause a fuss." She laughed. "Also..." She gestured us closer, and we lowered ourselves to her height. "Lots of sex," she whispered.
"Khun Mae!" Jaran and I yelled.
"Oyi! What is this? That's how it should be! Don't be shy. I know all these things. Unless...." Her eyes widened. "Both of you aren't having any—"
"Sawatdee Krap, Khun," Khun Foei Charoensuk, one of the contestants interrupted, greeting with a wai.
"Foei, looking good."
"Thank you, Khun." He smiled.
"Who is this lovely young lady?" the chairwoman asked.
"This is my wife, Phi Mook."
"Foei! She is gorgeous! Why didn't you introduce us earlier?" she hounded him, pulling his wife closer.
Jaran, Nat and I watched patiently as an unending number of pleasantries transpired between the couple and Khun Sampatistri. I slouched, stifling a hiss. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Jaran squeezing his face. Khun Foei was that type of coworker that got on everyone's nerves with his constant need to prove he was the best.
"I adore seeing families come together like this," Khun Sampatistri expressed.
"Of course, Khun. That's why we are all planning to meet tomorrow over barbecue," Khun Foei replied.
"We are?" Jaran, Nat and I asked in unison, heads tilted.
"We were just about to inform you all. I only just found out you two are a couple. It's just for couples, a quick get together," Khun Mook politely explained.
"Actually, when I heard about your engagement, Khun Kittisat, I was very surprised. These things tend to reach my ears rather quickly. When did you get enga—"
"Well... I'm sure you all will have a good time," Khun Sampatistri cut in. "I will go evaluate those mock designs now." She continued her walk past us and we bowed.
"So, tomorrow 7pm?" Khun Mook asked.
"Sure," Jaran replied.
***
Nat and I stepped out of the building and Nat flagged down a taxi. I held the door open for him.
"You go ahead, I have an errand to run," I announced.
"What errand?" Nat asked.
"Just... personal errands."
"I know all your personal errands. What's this one?"
"Nat..."
"Ok! Getting in. Don't act surprised when I start keeping secrets too."
He got in and I shut the door, lowering myself to the window.
"Thanks for the speech, you did an amazing job." I smiled.
"What are you talking about?"
"The speech for the presentation you finished for me."
"I didn't touch your speech, Kit."
"Hmm?" I crinkled my forehead.
"Buy fried bananas." Nat grinned as the taxi drove away.
I stood there for a few moments, watching the taxi disappear into traffic. Did I finish the speech myself? I wondered. It was too good of a speech for me to finish in the state I was in. I waved down another taxi and got in.
Throughout the ride, I kept my thoughts on the speech, it was odd. But as soon as we arrived at my destination, it was a long-forgotten feeling. I made my way to my favorite women's underwear shop. It had been a long time since I shopped for underwear. After acing my presentation, I wanted a reward of a special kind.
It wasn't often I visited women's underwear shops. I also never visited the same shop twice. The it's-for-my-sister excuse would make me look like a creep if I used it over and over again to the same people. I'd often look at women's underwear in online stores, but nothing compared to feasting my eyes on freshly hung expensive underwear before paying.
I walked into the store and began browsing through the lace section. I wasn't sure if I wanted red or pink: it was always one of the two for me. My lips curved up at the sight of a beautifully designed black lace lingerie. It wasn't my color, but it was my style. I began to reach for it when—
"Khun Kit?"
I turned around to see Varawut standing at the end of the shelf.
"Wut." I gulped, taking my hand back.
With a smile he walked forward. "Sawatdee Krap, Khun. A surprise to see you here."
I chuckled in my throat. "How did the meeting go? You must've left quite early."
"Yes, I left early enough to beat the traffic. It really went well."
"You sound optimistic."
"They requested to meet you and see your proposal."
"Wow... That's fantastic!" We grinned at each other for an awkward moment that should have been more celebratory. "What brings you here?" I asked in hopes of making it less awkward.
"I want to surprise Nong Pure, she complained about not having time to buy new underwear."
"Thoughtful of you." My gaze fluttered to the underwear he held in his hands. "I don't think she'll like that though."
"The salesperson recommended it."
"What do they know about style, come on." I led him to another shelf. "She'll love this. No rhinestones, silk fabric. You see how the band stretches?" I tugged the waist band.
"Yeah."
"She'll love the strong hold it'll provide." I turned to the other end. "Touch this. That's pure silk. The solid lace gives it that extra touch of sophistication."
"I see..."
"What's her favorite color?"
"Purple."
"Then she'll love the black, dark gray and blue."
"You are really good at this, Sir."
"Oh, am I?" A proud smirk formed on my lips before I looked down at my shoes to hide it. "Must be all those years growing up with three sisters."
"Shopping for them?"
"Ah yes. The stuff they wanted isn't here though. I'll give it a try next time." I escorted him to the counter and he paid.
We got pink milk afterwards and then fried bananas Nat. What started as a day to indulge, turned into a day to learn more about Varawut and Pure. It was the right moment to ask simple questions about their relationship. I learnt they'd been together for three years and he had only proposed three months prior. Their wedding was still months away because Pure; as the youth pastor in her church, needed to travel to India for a month-long outreach program. Although Wut was a Catholic, Pure was Pentecostal. Apparently, all Christians do not attend the same type of church, or share the same beliefs, it made for interesting conversation.
By the time we arrived home, I knew things about Varawut I never thought would be so pleasing. Like how he loved trashy reality shows like Real Housewives, his deep love for nature, his battle with OCD; which explained a lot. He talked about one of the priests in his church whom he disliked for many reasons, inviting me to visit just so he'd show me. It made me feel closer to him. He really was as sweet as they came.
***
As we waited for feedback on our mock designs from the company, my focus shifted back to other projects. The following day ran long with all the things I casted aside to focus on the competition. I arrived late to the private dinner Khun Foei and his wife put together for the contesting companies. I apologized with a wai, but they were too deep in conversation to care about my lateness. Khun Mook waved me over to sit next to Jaran. I glanced around the room checking if there were any other seats available on the table, but they were all taken. I walked over and sat next to Jaran, turning to meet him staring brimstones at me.
"What?" I muttered.
"Are you trying to make us look bad?" he whispered back. "You're thirty minutes late!"
"Don't scold me!" I quietly warned, glaring at him.
He opened his mouth to start another argument, but we were quickly interrupted by the arrival of the waiter. He placed more drinks on the table, directly in front of me and I immediately reached for it, eyeing Jaran.
"Honey, why don't you tell them about Canada," Khun Lucile, the wife of Khun Anucha, one of the contestants, said loudly.
"We shouldn't bore them with any of that." Khun Anucha chuckled, sipping her drink.
"What about Canada?" Khun Foei inquired. His ever-plastic smile in place.
"She'll be designing a new conservatory for the Canadian government," Khun Lucile announced proudly, patting her wife's shoulder.
"Awws" and "Wows" traveled across the table in admiration.
"The final approval is still in the works, so fingers crossed," Khun Anucha clarified.
"Don't try to be humble, honey," Khun Lucile continued.
"Congratulations. I must say, we love doing business with Canadians, but I had to turn down a few offers from them. New York came calling," Khun Foei boasted and I almost sighed loudly.
"Whoa! New York?" Khun Art, another contestant joined in.
"They need some remodeling in this nineteenth century building in Manhattan. Just my husband's kind of stuff," Khun Mook included.
"I do love early Nineteenth century architecture," Khun kanya, another contestant. expressed.
"The Americans love quality architecture," Khun Mook said.
"Not like the Chinese, I assure you, and they pay better. Everything is bigger now you know; they want all these grandiose ideas!" Khun kanya replied.
"A project in China then?" Khun Foei asked
"A private one, some rich crypto guy. He sought my wife out himself!" Khun Atid, Khun Kanya's husband bragged.
Soon, it seemed everyone had a powerful project to flaunt, and they went on and on. Stale laughter and prying stares accompanied every announcement. For a few minutes, it was a bit intimidating. They all seemed to have life all figured out and were closing deals left, right and center.
Jaran and I sat quietly, drinking and eating. Each time I finished a glass of my drink, the lovely lady who sat beside me would refill it. I was tipsy by the fourth glass. She barely spoke, letting her husband do all the talking. He contrasted her, both in style & demeanor. Her voice was perky and subtle. I asked her name, and it sparked a short conversation about her cherry blossom printed gown she bought from Korea.
"That's why we decided to build our home in Phuket," Khun Mook concluded on a topic I was not paying attention to.
"Good choice, Phuket is such a wonderful place to raise children," Khun kanya replied
"Which reminds me, Khun Jaran, didn't you get picked for the Phuket resort contract?" Khun Foei asked.
"Oh true..." Khun Kanya chimed in. "I heard you got fired. I passed up on it because I felt the company would be difficult to work with."
I turned from Primly to Jaran, my brain all foggy from the alcohol. He appeared uneasy, tensed. I could see him squeeze his trousers under the table as they barraged him with intrusive questions they had no business asking. He reached for another glass and chugged it. His jaw clenched, squeezing the glass as he placed it back on the table. His eyes were lowered to avoid looking at anyone. The alcohol had already taken hold of me, but I knew it was a sight I had never seen before.
"Don't worry too much about it—"
"He's not worried," I interrupted Khun Mook then burped. "He's been very busy with the new Chomklin contract."
"You got the Chomklin contract? I bid for it too, it's a big one," Khun kanya testified.
Jaran turned to me, his eyes as innocent as the first time I fell into his arms. I forced a smile, raising my hand to pat his back. Once my hands touched his back, he straightened up, smiling. The fake smile I formed broadened, but this time it was real. Something about the way he smiled made my drunken heart warm. That warmth spread all over my body and for a moment, I had forgotten there were others in the private dining room.
"It must feel good to work in the same field as your partner, makes things easier," Khun Primly spoke softly and I looked away from Jaran, retracting my hand.
"Or hectic, always competing for contracts and then going home to each other. Doesn't it stir up bedroom fights?" Khun Mook laughed.
Everyone joined her, turning to us for answers. Jaran got up, bowed and excused himself to get some air. Nothing about his expression made his sadness obvious, and yet in my drunkenness, I saw through him. I excused myself and followed him to the balcony, joining him against the railings but making sure there was a reasonable distance between us. The alcohol took its toll on my vision as we stared into the night, I was a bit wobbly.
"You really can't hold your liquor," he said, not looking my way.
"What happened in Phuket?"
"I did get fired. Not just for the reasons they think."
What reasons then? I thought but chose not to ask. His face went sour and it pricked me. I did not like it. The smile on his face from earlier looked better on him.
"We should tell everyone the truth, Jaran. Married to you? You can't even stand me. They'll know eventually and it won't look good."
A long pause rested between us.
"I don't want to," he replied.
"You're ridiculous."
"Am I?" He turned to me, those soft bright eyes, entrapping me once again. I returned my gaze to the night view and exhaled, blaming the alcohol for the sudden warmth I felt on my face.
"I'm going back in," I turned.
He reached out and held me. "Don't go back in."
I wasn't returning because I was over the conversation, rather because the alcohol made it difficult to steady myself as I stood. I needed to lay my head down on something; it had been a long day.
"Let go," I said tiredly.
He released his grip and stood in front of me.
"I need this competition. I need the money. My company is... we are going bankrupt."
"Since when? Wait... is that why you're living with Wut?"
He nodded. "Something like that..."
I turned around, leaning back on the railings.
"You don't like me, Jaran. I don't see how we can pull this off for the next four months," I grumbled, placing my chin on my palm.
He joined me on the railing, a few inches away.
"I never said I didn't like you."
I turned and held his gaze. A smile lingered on his lips, but he wouldn't let it bloom.
"Don't get weird, Jaran." I looked away.
With a single finger, he turned my face towards his gentle eyes. I gulped, not wanting to blink, that feeling of warmth returned to my cheeks. He leaned in closer, and I held my breath.
"Kit, why won't you just call me Ja for once?" he spoke softly.
I blinked, letting my lips part slightly. My chest tightened as I swallowed, resisting the tightness. His hands cupped my face some more and I slowly closed my eyes. There was a familiar scent on his hands, as if they'd touched me before and not during a fight or one of our banters, but rather, in a comforting, appealing way. They were tender and smooth. I was sinking into an unfamiliar feeling that felt like a beautiful kind of good.
"Ja..." I muttered, still in a daze.
I didn't open my eyes to look at him, but I could feel him smile.
"My name sounds pretty on your lips," he said. "It matches your pretty face."
He ran his thumb over my lips and my eyes flew open. His voice gave me a sense of belonging, made me feel wanted, desired in a way I had not in a long time. I moved closer in search of more.
"You really think I'm pretty?" My drunken heart raced.
No one had ever said that to me. The men on Grindr or Blued never spared a moment to look at my face long enough to notice if I was pretty. The feeling of being admired by someone, being complimented so affectionately—even if that someone was Jaran—filled my drunken self with substantial delight.
He smiled at me and nodded as his left joined his right hand in cupping my face.
"Kit—marry me?" he asked, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.
Transfixed, I slowly raised my hand to his, pressing it down further on my cheek and rubbing it. It felt like a dream. It didn't feel real. He didn't look real.
"Yes," I whispered.