Chapter 9 Almost
By the end of the week, Orm had developed a new and deeply inconvenient habit.
She looked for Ling.
Not deliberately, at least not at first.
It happened without her permission, quietly and automatically, in the way the eyes sometimes searched for something familiar before the mind had caught up.
When she arrived at Veyra in the morning, she would glance toward the executive corridor before heading to her desk.
When the elevator doors opened, she would notice whether Ling was inside.
When someone entered a meeting room, Orm would instinctively look up, only to feel a ridiculous little disappointment if it wasn't her.
It was becoming embarrassing.
Worse, it was becoming obvious.
Orm had spent weeks convincing herself that she disliked Ling, and perhaps there had been a time when that had been true.
Their first meeting had certainly not encouraged affection.
Ling had been the executive who had sat across from her during her proposal presentation and dissected the idea she had worked so hard on, pointing out weaknesses with such calm precision that Orm had left the room convinced she had made the worst professional decision of her life by accepting a
position at Veyra.
Then came the photograph.
Then the rumours.
Then Aurelia.
Then the ridiculous arrangement that had begun as a business solution and somehow turned into something neither of them seemed particularly capable of controlling.
There had been rules.
No kissing.
No sleeping together.
No unnecessary touching.
No jealousy.
No falling in love.
And, most importantly, Orm's own addition:
Don't look at me like that.
At the time, she had thought it was a joke.
Now she wasn't so sure.
Because Ling had started looking at her differently.
Or perhaps Orm had simply started noticing.
The problem with spending time pretending to be someone's lover was that eventually you learned things about them that no one else did.
You learned how they took their coffee. You learned what they did when they were tired.
You learned the tiny crease that appeared between their eyebrows when they were annoyed and the way they rubbed the back of their neck when they were stressed.
You learned what made them laugh when they weren't trying to impress anyone.
And Orm had learned Ling.
Not completely.
Not even close.
But enough to make the woman who once seemed impossible to understand feel dangerously familiar.
The discovery at the community centre had only made things worse.
Orm still thought about it.
Ling laughing with the children.
Ling kneeling on the ground with paint on her fingers.
Ling letting a nervous little dog crawl into her lap.
Ling making a pinky promise to a little girl as though it were the most important contract she had ever signed.
The memory had stayed with Orm long after they returned to Bangkok.
It had changed something.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
It had simply loosened something inside her.
And now, every time Ling smiled, Orm remembered the sound of her laughter in that courtyard.
She was falling.
She knew it.
She just wasn't ready to say it aloud.
Not even to herself.
Especially not to herself.
So when Friday arrived and P'Cherry announced that the Aurelia team needed to stay late to finish the next round of materials, Orm decided she would do something sensible.
She would work.
She would finish.
She would go home.
She would sleep.
And she would stop thinking about Ling.
It was an excellent plan.
It lasted until eleven forty-three that night.
?
The creative department had become almost completely silent.
Orm sat alone at her desk, surrounded by printed drafts, colour references and several empty coffee cups that had begun to make her question her life choices. Her laptop screen displayed the latest Aurelia campaign deck, but she had been staring at the same paragraph for nearly five minutes.
She read it again.
Nothing.
She read it a third time.
Still nothing.
She leaned back.
"Come on."
The words disappeared into the empty room.
She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock.
11:43 p.m.
She groaned.
"I should've gone home."
"Then why didn't you?"
Orm nearly fell out of her chair.
She spun around.
Ling stood near the entrance to the creative department.
For one terrible second, Orm simply stared at her.
Ling was still wearing her office clothes, although her blazer was draped over one arm and the sleeves of her blouse had been rolled slightly past her wrists.
Her hair was less perfectly arranged than it had been earlier in the day, and there was a faint tiredness around her eyes that Orm had learned to recognise.
"You scared me."
Ling smiled.
"I noticed."
"What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"I asked first."
Ling walked closer.
"I was finishing some reports."
"At almost midnight?"
"Yes."
"That's unhealthy."
"So is drinking four coffees in six hours."
Orm looked at the cups around her.
"They were necessary."
"Of course."
Ling pulled out the chair beside Orm's desk and sat down.
Orm stared at her.
"What?"
"You came here just to sit?"
"I came to check something."
"What?"
Ling looked at the laptop.
"The Aurelia deck."
Orm turned the screen slightly toward her.
"I've finished most of it."
Ling scanned the pages.
"Most?"
"The last section needs work."
"Why?"
"I don't like it."
"Why?"
Orm sighed.
"I don't know."
Ling looked at her.
"You do."
Orm frowned.
"What?"
"You know what's wrong with it. You just haven't figured out how to explain it."
Orm stared at her.
"How do you always do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me feel like I'm having a therapy session when we're supposed to be discussing marketing."
Ling smiled.
"Occupational hazard."
Orm laughed.
Then she noticed Ling smiling too.
That smile.
The one she had seen at the community centre.
The one that had somehow become her favourite.
Orm quickly turned back to her laptop.
"Stop."
Ling's eyebrows lifted.
"Stop what?"
"Smiling."
"Why?"
"Because."
"That's not an answer."
"It distracts me."
The words came out before Orm could stop them.
Silence.
Orm froze.
Ling stared at her.
Orm suddenly became extremely interested in the laptop.
"I mean from work."
"Of course."
"I meant you're distracting me from work."
"I understood."
"Good."
Another silence.
Then Ling quietly laughed.
Orm covered her face with one hand.
"This is humiliating."
"You're cute when you're embarrassed."
Orm's hand dropped.
"What?"
Ling's expression changed immediately.
For the briefest second, Orm saw the same surprise on Ling's face that she felt inside herself.
The words had escaped.
Neither of them knew what to do with them.
Ling looked away.
"I meant-"
"I know what you meant."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
Ling looked back at her.
Orm's heart was beating too fast.
She forced herself to smile.
"Relax."
Ling didn't answer.
But she didn't leave either.
?
They worked for another twenty minutes.
Or at least they pretended to.
Orm couldn't concentrate.
Every time Ling leaned toward the laptop, their shoulders almost touched.
Every time Ling asked a question, Orm became painfully aware of the quietness of her voice.
Eventually, Orm closed the laptop.
"I can't."
Ling looked at her.
"Can't what?"
"Work."
"Why?"
Orm gave her a look.
"You're sitting there."
Ling stared.
"I'm sitting in a chair."
"Exactly."
"That's a problem?"
"Apparently."
Ling laughed.
Orm smiled.
The tension eased slightly.
Then Ling stood.
"Coffee?"
Orm blinked.
"At midnight?"
"You're the one who needs it."
"I have enough caffeine in my bloodstream to power the building."
"Then tea."
Orm considered.
"Fine."
They walked to the small kitchenette near the end of the floor.
The lights were dim there too.
Ling filled the kettle.
Orm leaned against the counter.
Neither spoke for a while.
It was strangely comfortable.
That was what frightened Orm most.
They could sit together without filling every silence.
They could simply exist in the same space.
There was no performance.
No audience.
No campaign.
Just them.
Ling handed her a cup.
"Careful."
Orm took it.
"Thanks."
They stood by the window.
Below them, Bangkok stretched into the distance.
"What made you stay tonight?" Ling asked.
Orm looked at her.
"I wanted to finish the work."
"That's not the real reason."
Orm sighed.
"Why do you keep doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"Seeing through me."
Ling smiled faintly.
"Maybe because you're easier to read than you think."
"That's insulting."
"Probably."
Orm took a sip.
"You stayed too."
"I had work."
"So did I."
Ling looked at her.
"Exactly."
Orm laughed.
Then the laughter faded.
The silence returned.
This time, Ling was the one who broke it.
"Do you ever regret joining Veyra?"
Orm looked at her.
"Sometimes."
Ling nodded.
"Because of me?"
Orm hesitated.
"At first."
Ling's eyes lowered.
"Fair."
"You were awful."
"I know."
"You criticised my proposal in front of everyone."
"It needed criticism."
"You could have been nicer."
"Probably."
Orm smiled.
"You don't even defend yourself."
"Would it change your mind?"
"No."
"Then there's no point."
Orm laughed.
"You really are impossible."
Ling looked at her.
"And yet you're still here."
Orm's smile slowly disappeared.
"Yeah."
She was.
Still here.
Still sitting beside Ling at midnight.
Still looking at her.
Still feeling that strange ache whenever their eyes met.
Still wanting to know what was behind all those walls.
?
The conversation changed without warning.
Perhaps it was the hour.
Perhaps it was the quiet.
Perhaps it was because they were both tired enough to stop protecting themselves.
Ling looked down at her cup.
"Can I ask you something?"
Orm nodded.
"Sure."
"Why did you dislike me so much?"
Orm laughed.
"You really want to know?"
"Yes."
"Because you scared me."
Ling looked surprised.
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"