Chapter 8 - The Soft Side of Ling
By Thursday morning, Orm had decided that the business trip had been a mistake.
Not because the meeting had gone badly. Quite the opposite.
The regional presentation had been one of the most successful meetings she had attended since joining Veyra, and Khun Dew had even complimented her afterward, which was rare enough to make Orm suspicious.
The problem was that the trip had left her with a memory she couldn't seem to put away.
One room.
One bed.
A pillow wall that had collapsed sometime during the night.
And Ling sitting beside her at three in the morning, speaking so quietly that the words had somehow felt more intimate than anything they had said while pretending to be lovers in front of cameras.
I'm glad you stayed.
Orm had replayed those words far too many times.
She had tried to tell herself it was because she was overthinking.
She had blamed exhaustion, the strange intimacy of being outside Bangkok, and the fact that they had spent an entire night without the usual noise of the office surrounding them.
She had even convinced herself that the way Ling had looked at her that night had meant nothing.
That explanation had worked for approximately twenty-four hours.
Then Ling had walked into the office that morning wearing a dark blazer, carrying a cup of coffee, and calmly asked Orm if she had finished the revised Aurelia materials.
Orm had forgotten what she was supposed to say.
Not because Ling had done anything unusual.
That was the problem.
She hadn't.
She was still the same intimidating Executive Director everyone at Veyra seemed to fear. She still walked through the office with the same quiet authority, still made people straighten in their chairs without asking them to, and still had an uncanny ability to notice a mistake from across a room.
She was Ling.
Cold when she needed to be.
Sharp when the situation demanded it.
Impossible to read.
And yet Orm had seen another version of her.
A version that laughed softly in the darkness of a hotel room.
A version that had picked up her fallen pillow without complaint.
A version that had told her she was glad she stayed.
Orm hated that version.
Because she liked her.
Far too much.
So when P'Cherry walked into the creative studio that Thursday afternoon carrying a stack of documents and announced that they were making an unexpected visit to a community centre on the outskirts of Bangkok, Orm welcomed the distraction.
Anything was better than sitting at her desk thinking about Ling.
"Where are we going?" Bow asked.
P'Cherry placed the documents on the table.
"The community centre Veyra partnered with for the Aurelia outreach project."
Orm looked up.
"The children's programme?"
"Yes."
Bow frowned.
"I thought that was next month."
"It was."
P'Cherry sighed.
"Then the client moved the schedule."
Fluke, who was leaning against the desk with his arms folded, smiled.
"Of course they did."
"Apparently the regional partners want additional footage and photographs for the campaign's community initiative."
Orm nodded slowly.
That made sense.
Aurelia's campaign had always been broader than advertising. Veyra had positioned it around connection, belonging and everyday moments rather than simply selling a product, and the community programme was one of the elements designed to make the campaign feel more authentic.
"What are we doing there?" Orm asked.
"Content planning, interviews, behind-the-scenes material and some creative direction," P'Cherry explained. "Nothing too formal."
"Who is going?"
P'Cherry glanced down at the list.
"You, Bow, Fluke, me, Khun Dew..."
She paused.
"And Ling."
Orm's hand stopped halfway to her coffee.
Bow noticed.
She smiled.
Orm glared at her.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were going to."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
Fluke laughed.
P'Cherry looked between them.
"Is there a problem?"
"No," Orm said quickly.
Bow shook her head.
"None."
Fluke smiled.
"Absolutely none."
Orm gave him a warning look.
He immediately looked away.
P'Cherry picked up the documents.
"We leave in twenty minutes."
Orm nodded.
"Okay."
She tried to sound normal.
She failed.
Because there was only one thought running through her head.
Ling is coming.
?
The community centre was smaller than Orm had imagined.
It stood at the end of a quiet street lined with old trees and modest houses, with a colourful playground occupying the small courtyard beside the main building.
There were hand-painted murals along the walls, shelves of children's books visible through the windows and several potted plants arranged around the entrance.
The moment Orm stepped out of the van, she heard laughter.
Children.
Lots of them.
The sound carried across the courtyard, bright and unrestrained, completely different from the controlled atmosphere of Veyra's offices.
Orm smiled.
"This is nice."
Bow nodded.
"Much nicer than the conference room."
Fluke stretched.
"Anything is nicer than the conference room."
P'Cherry was already speaking with one of the programme coordinators.
Khun Dew checked her phone.
And Ling-
Orm looked around.
She wasn't there.
Orm frowned.
"Where's Ling?"
Bow gave her an amused look.
"Why?"
Orm immediately regretted asking.
"Because she's supposed to be here."
"Right."
"That's all."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it."
Bow laughed.
"I've known you long enough to know when you're trying too hard to sound casual."
Orm opened her mouth to argue.
Then she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Sorry I'm late."
Orm turned.
Ling was walking toward them.
She had traded her usual office attire for something much more relaxed: dark trousers, a simple cream-coloured shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows and white sneakers instead of the heels she usually wore around the Veyra office.
Orm stared.
She had seen Ling dressed casually before.
But somehow this was different.
Maybe it was the setting.
Maybe it was the fact that there were no glass walls, conference tables or executives around them.
Or maybe Orm was simply paying far too much attention.
Ling approached.
"Did I miss anything?"
P'Cherry shook her head.
"We just arrived."
Ling nodded.
Then a small voice called from across the courtyard.
"Ling!"
Orm turned.
A little girl came running toward them.
Ling's entire expression changed.
It happened so quickly that Orm almost thought she imagined it.
The sharpness disappeared first.
Then the controlled seriousness.
Then the distant look that Ling seemed to wear like armour.
Her face softened.
A smile spread across it.
Not the small, polite smile she gave clients.
Not the teasing smile she sometimes gave Orm.
A real smile.
Warm.
Open.
Completely unguarded.
Ling crouched just as the girl reached her.
"There you are."
The little girl threw her arms around Ling's neck.
Ling laughed.
A real laugh.
Bright and effortless.
Orm froze.
She had never heard that sound before.
Not like this.
Ling hugged the girl back and said something that Orm couldn't hear because the other children had already started gathering around them.
Within seconds, the intimidating Executive Director of Veyra was surrounded.
One child wanted to show her a drawing.
Another wanted her to see a new toy.
Someone else was pulling gently at her sleeve.
Ling didn't appear bothered.
She listened to all of them.
She laughed.
She crouched down.
She asked questions.
She praised their drawings with an enthusiasm that seemed almost ridiculous compared with the woman Orm knew from the office.
Orm stared.
Bow walked beside her.
"You're staring again."
Orm didn't look away.
"She's different."
Bow smiled.
"Very."
"I've never seen her like this."
"Neither had I."
Orm watched as Ling sat cross-legged on the ground, listening intently to a little boy explain why his drawing of a dog had three different coloured ears.
Ling nodded solemnly.
"That's a very creative dog."
The boy grinned.
"He can hear everything."
Ling looked impressed.
"Then he's probably very good at keeping secrets."
The boy nodded seriously.
"Very."
Orm smiled.
She couldn't help it.
Something warm moved through her chest.
This wasn't the Ling she knew.
Or perhaps it was.
Perhaps this had always been there.
Orm had simply never been allowed close enough to see it.
?
The morning passed quickly.
The Veyra team began gathering material for the Aurelia community feature, but the work was constantly interrupted by children who wanted to participate.
Orm didn't mind.
In fact, she found herself enjoying it.
She took photographs, helped Bow arrange some of the creative materials and spoke with the programme coordinator about how the children interacted with the campaign's message of connection.
But every few minutes, her attention drifted.
Toward Ling.
It was becoming a problem.
Ling was sitting at a small table with several children, helping them paint.
Orm watched as Ling carefully rolled up her sleeves and picked up a paintbrush.
"You're doing that wrong," one of the boys told her.
Ling looked at him with exaggerated seriousness.
"I'm sorry."
"You need more paint."
"More?"
"More."
Ling added paint.
The boy nodded.
"Better."
Ling smiled.
"Thank you for teaching me."
Orm laughed.
Bow looked at her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're smiling."
"Because she's funny."
Bow looked toward Ling.
"She is."
Orm nodded.
Then she caught herself.
Why was she defending Ling?
Why did it matter?
Why did seeing Ling laugh make her feel like she had discovered something precious?
She shook her head.
This was ridiculous.
She turned back toward her camera.
A second later, she heard Ling laugh again.
Orm looked back.
She was finished.
There was no hope.
?
Around noon, the programme coordinator brought out lunch for everyone.
The children ate together at long tables while the adults sat nearby.