15
Freen POV
…a few days later…
There’s a knock on the door.
Becky looks up from her monitors, glancing over at the desk calendar in front of me.
“I'm not forgetting about a meeting, am I?” She asked, puzzled.
“Nothing else is scheduled for today besides your 4 pm.” I reassure her.
So who’s at the door?
“It’s me!”
Becky sighs.
“Come in.”
P’Nam covers her eyes as she enters the office.
“Are you two decent?”
Becky narrows her eyes and my cheeks flush at the suggestive comment.
“Get out.”
She ignores Becky, plopping into the chair across from me.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better N’Freen.” She pats my hand roughly then abruptly pulls it away.
Weird.
“Y’know Nong Bec wouldn’t let me work beside her.” P’Nam laments, pointing to the couch furthest from the desk. “She made me work all the way over there. And was complaining that I smell!”
“It’s not my fault you wear such strong scents,” Becky says, scribbling some notes into her legal pad.
“Heng likes the way I smell.”
“Love is unscented.”
“So,” she smiles mischievously. “-does that mean your love for N’Freen is unscented?”
“…”
P’Nam, you’re too much!
My face feels hot despite my fever subsiding recently.
“Billy, I need you to escort someone out of my office.” Becky radios P’Billy.
“Oi Bec!”
He shows up promptly, bursting through to the double doors. He glances around the room for the person he’s meant to escort out.
When his gaze lands on P’Nam, he rolls his eyes.
“Really, Nong?” He sighs exasperated. “I thought it was serious.”
“Oh it absolutely is.” Becky says, stony-faced.
“Nevermind her.” P’Nam waves the comment off. “I heard Nat started kickboxing!”
I smile subconsciously, my mood perking up considerably with the topic of Nat.
“That’s right.” I eagerly show off photos of Nat practicing his kickboxing at home and at the gym.
P’Nam makes grabby hands at my phone. “Can I have a closer look?”
Even P’Billy pulls over the chair in front of Becky to pour over the photos. They gush over the photos, talking about how happy he looks and how good his form is.
“Who’s this?” She asked, turning the phone toward me. She points at Sua who’s a recurring figure in many of the photos since Nat is always glued to his side.
“Oh that’s Sua,” I tell her. “Nat’s best friend.”
“He kinda reminds me of…” P’Billy trails off, looking pensive. “P’Gun?”
“Really?” P’Nam squinted at the photo. Then her eyes widened. “Is Sua his kid-”
“Nephew.” Becky corrected. Her focus on the documents scattered over the desk. “Beb, do you have the contractor proposal from MCOT LC?”
“Here.” I passed her the papers.
“Nong Bec?”
“Hm?” Becky answers halfheartedly, nose deep in some process documents from the Operations Department.
“I wasn’t calling you.”
“What?”
Oh no.
“P’Nam, can I have my phone-”
“Why do you look like this working out?” She complains, completely ignoring my flaming cheeks. “I’m all red-faced and sweaty but-”
“P’Nam-”
“You don’t have a hair out of place.” She ignores me. “Unfair.”
P’Billy tries to reach for my phone. “Let’s hand the phone back-”
P’Nam glares at him until he slinks back into his seat with a sigh of defeat.
He shrugs at me, giving a pitying smile.
Phi…please try harder.
“You’re good at photography, Nong.”
P’Nam!
“These photos are HD!”
Enough.
“How much do you charge for your photo services, N’Freen?”
UGH.
I peek at Becky who’s oddly quiet.
Maybe she’s too engrossed in her work to pay any attention to P’Nam’s rambling.
“Nat is in those photos too!” I insist, finally prying the phone back from her.
Sure, he’s more of a background character but he’s in there! Even this one, his hair is that black blur in the corner.
Becky gets up, hopefully to shoo P’Nam away.
Then I sense her behind me.
Her hair tickles my wrist as she leans over my shoulder. “Oh you got my good side.”
She sounds smug. Hmph.
I lock my phone and shove the offending device into my bag.
How embarrassing…
…
After unsuccessful attempts to distract Becky, P’Nam shifts her attention to P’Billy.
“So…the wedding is in a couple weeks.”
“That’s right!” He’s all smiles. And I can’t help but think of how lucky Babe is. Just the thought of his future husband bringing joy to P’Billy’s face.
“There wasn’t much detail in the invitation…,” I trail off, hoping to get something out of P’Billy.
Babe was just too tight lipped about the whole reception.
“Sorry, Nong,” P’Billy grins sheepishly. “I promised I’d give no hints or spoilers.”
“Guess we’ll just have to be sleuths,” Becky shrugs. “The venue can’t accommodate more than 100 people so I think it’s safe to say only close friends and family will be present.”
P’Billy gives nothing away.
Tch.
“I just hope there’s an open bar,” P’Nam’s eyes take on an evil glint. “And karaoke!”
P’Billy doesn’t bat an eye.
“Damn.”
“Oh you’re good.”
While Becky and P’Nam try to trick P’Billy into revealing anything about the grand event, I discreetly slip out of the office.
Ms. Nita and I are scheduled for one of our bi-weekly working lunches. Something we instituted since the bathroom incident.
Hopefully by the time I get back, P’Nam and Becky will have more about the wedding than the date.
…
Lunch with Ms. Nita was cut short when she’s called back to the office for an urgent matter.
She insisted I stay and enjoy the meal so I took my time savoring the food.
I’ll have to bring Nat and Becky here. Their dishes are to die for.
As I’m strolling down the empty crosswalk, a motorcycle skates past, burning rubber marks into the asphalt.
I narrowly miss being mowed down.
Then I spotted him.
A figure lying despondent on the road, clutching his side.
I hurry over.
“Bitch…” He mutters, his eyes are glazed over.
“Stay with me.” My eyes flitter between his stab wound and the blood pooling underneath him. “I’m calling 911-”
“Don’t!” He says sharply. His hand gripped tightly onto my wrist. “No hospital.”
“You’re bleeding-”
“No. Hospital.” He grits out, his chest heaving.
“Ok.” I nod. “No hospital.”
He smiles. Then his eyes roll back and he sags over, his grip loosening around my wrist.
“No hospital.” I repeat softly.
Mostly to myself.
I dial the one person who may be able to help.
Brrring brring
“Hello?”
I wait with bated breath.
“P’Gun, I need your help.”
…
He arrives promptly in a utility van.
Plumbing Equipment Inc?
Two masked individuals hop out and pull the unconscious man onto a stretcher.
I climb into the front seat as P’Gun adjusts his mirrors and closes the small divider between the front cab and the back of the van.
A produce truck pulls up beside the van and starts unloading crates and boxes near the site, nearly covering up all traces of the incident.
P’Gun nods curtly at one of the nondescript people pouring out of the truck then drives off.
“Thank you, P’Gun.”
He grunts.
“He said he didn’t want to go to the hospital.”
“Mm.”
“He lost a lot of blood.”
“Mhm.”
“...”
“…”
“I’m sorry to bother you during work-”
“Not a bother.”
“Ok.”
“…”
“Where are you taking him?”
“Not a hospital.”
“Alright.”
Silence fills the small space as I gaze out the window.
“Do you know him?”
I jolt at his question, not expecting him to continue the conversation.
I shake my head. “No, no. We ran into each other by coincidence.”
“Mm.”
“Thank you again, P’Gun.”
I assume the conversation is over when P’Gun doesn’t reply.
He taps audibly on the steering wheel at a red light.
“Call me anytime, Nong.”
I don’t fight the smile breaking across my face.
P’Gun might be involved in shady business but I tell he’s a good man.
I don’t know the connection between him and Becky’s family.
Maybe I’ll never know.
This is just a contract marriage after all…
My throat clogs at the thought and I close my eyes to the scenery outside.