Chapter 11 Dont Fall For Me
The first thing Orm noticed the morning after the kiss was that Ling had become very good at pretending again.
Not the kind of pretending they had been doing for Aurelia, where they smiled at cameras, held hands in public, and allowed strangers to believe that their relationship had somehow blossomed beneath the polished glass walls of Veyra.
This was different.
This was colder.
Deliberate.
Ling had built a wall overnight.
And Orm knew exactly when it had happened.
She had felt it the moment she walked into Veyra.
The lobby was busy with the usual Monday-morning chaos.
Assistants hurried across the polished floor with folders tucked against their chests, someone was arguing with the printer near reception, and Fluke was already complaining to a production coordinator about a schedule that had apparently offended him personally.
It should have felt ordinary.
Instead, Orm's eyes immediately searched for one person.
Ling.
She found her near the reception desk, standing beside Khun Dew.
Ling was wearing a dark tailored suit, her hair pulled back neatly, one hand holding a tablet while Khun Dew spoke quietly beside her. She looked exactly as she always did.
Composed.
Elegant.
Untouchable.
Orm slowed.
Ling looked up.
Their eyes met.
For one suspended second, Orm remembered everything.
The studio.
The lights.
The first kiss that was supposed to be for the campaign.
The second kiss.
The moment the cameras had stopped.
Ling's hand against her cheek.
The way neither of them had pulled away.
Orm's heartbeat stumbled.
Surely Ling remembered it too.
Surely—
"Good morning."
Ling's voice was calm.
Professional.
Almost painfully ordinary.
Orm blinked.
"Morning."
Ling gave her a polite nod.
Then she turned back to Khun Dew.
That was it.
No smile.
No lingering glance.
Nothing.
Orm stood there for another second before forcing herself to continue toward the creative department.
She could feel her face getting warm.
Not because she was embarrassed.
Because she was angry.
Good morning?
That was all she got?
After what had happened?
She dropped her bag beside her desk harder than necessary.
Bow looked up.
"You okay?"
"Perfect."
Bow studied her.
"You don't look perfect."
"I'm fine."
"You look like you want to throw your laptop at someone."
Orm opened it.
"I would never."
Bow raised an eyebrow.
"You threw a stapler at Fluke last month."
"He deserved it."
"He said your presentation needed work."
"It did not."
"It did."
Orm looked at her.
Bow smiled.
"Right. Definitely perfect."
Orm turned toward her screen.
She tried to work.
She really did.
But every few minutes, her eyes wandered toward the executive corridor.
Ling never looked her way.
And somehow, that was worse than if she had.
?
By ten o'clock, Orm had convinced herself that she was being ridiculous.
Ling was an executive.
She had responsibilities.
There were deadlines.
Meetings.
Clients.
Employees.
Contracts.
A company to run.
Of course she couldn't spend her morning staring at Orm because they had kissed.
Except...
They had kissed.
Twice.
And the second time hadn't even been part of the campaign.
Orm rubbed her forehead.
This was exactly why she hated the situation.
Before the kiss, everything had been simple.
They had hated each other.
Well, Orm had hated Ling.
At least initially.
Ling had been the intimidating executive who had sat across from her during her interview and dissected her proposal like she was conducting an autopsy.
Orm had walked out of that room convinced that Lingling Kwong had personally declared war on her career.
Then somehow, weeks later, they had ended up pretending to be lovers.
Then they had become friends.
Then something more complicated.
Then there had been the hotel room.
The children.
The animals.
The late-night conversation.
The almost.
And finally—
The kiss.
Orm closed her eyes.
She was going to lose her mind.
"Are you working?"
She opened her eyes.
Bow was standing beside her desk.
"Yes."
"You've been staring at the same sentence."
"I like the sentence."
"You've read it fourteen times."
Orm sighed.
"Can you please stop observing me?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you're entertaining."
Orm groaned.
Bow leaned against the desk.
"So?"
"So what?"
"Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"Nothing happened."
Bow smiled.
"You're using that word again."
Orm looked toward the executive corridor.
Bow followed her gaze.
Then her eyes widened slightly.
"Oh."
Orm immediately looked back.
"What?"
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I really wasn't."
"You absolutely were."
Bow smiled.
"I think I understand."
"No, you don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"Good."
Bow returned to her desk.
Orm stared at her laptop.
A minute later, Bow said quietly,
"Whatever happened, don't let it ruin your work."
Orm looked at her.
Bow shrugged.
"That's all."
Orm nodded.
That was exactly what she needed to remember.
Her career mattered.
The Aurelia campaign mattered.
She was still new at Veyra.
Everything she had worked for was beginning to take shape.
She couldn't allow her feelings for one impossible woman to destroy it.
Unfortunately, that thought didn't make her feelings disappear.
It only made them more frightening.
?
The Aurelia meeting began fifteen minutes later.
Orm entered the conference room with her notebook and found everyone already there.
P'Cherry was arranging documents.
Fluke was drinking coffee.
Khun Dew was reviewing the latest client feedback.
Ling sat beside her.
Orm deliberately chose the seat farthest away.
Ling noticed.
Of course she did.
Her eyes flickered toward Orm for the briefest moment before returning to the documents.
P'Cherry cleared her throat.
"Let's begin."
The presentation appeared on the screen.
Aurelia's latest engagement numbers were displayed.
The campaign was performing better than expected.
Much better.
P'Cherry smiled.
"The response to the last content drop has been exceptional."
Fluke leaned forward.
"How exceptional?"
"Enough that the client wants to increase the next phase budget."
He whistled.
"Now that's a number I like."
Khun Dew smiled.
"Which means expectations are higher."
Orm nodded.
She knew what that meant.
More work.
More exposure.
More pressure.
And more time with Ling.
She wasn't sure whether that last part was a blessing or a punishment.
Khun Dew changed the slide.
"The client wants to move the campaign toward a stronger emotional narrative."
Orm looked at the screen.
Photographs appeared.
Some of them showed Ling and Orm laughing.
Others showed their hands intertwined.
Then came the photograph from the company ball.
Orm's stomach tightened.
The image had been captured weeks earlier, before either of them had understood what was happening.
Ling catching Orm as she stumbled.
Orm's hand gripping Ling's shoulder.
Ling's arm around her waist.
Their faces close.
It looked intimate.
Too intimate.
P'Cherry smiled.
"This photograph is still one of the client's favourites."
Fluke leaned over.
"I can see why."
Orm glared at him.
He immediately looked innocent.
Khun Dew continued.
"The audience response suggests people are connecting strongly with the emotional dynamic between the two of you."
Orm almost laughed.
Emotional dynamic.
That was one way of describing it.
The screen changed again.
A still from their recent shoot appeared.
Their faces were inches apart.
Then another.
The kiss.
Orm's breath caught.
Ling's hand tightened around her pen.
P'Cherry continued speaking, unaware—or pretending not to notice.
"The client wants to build the next stage around this."
Orm stared at the screen.
"What exactly does that mean?"
"They want more intimate content."
Ling finally spoke.
"How intimate?"
P'Cherry gave her a look.
"Nothing inappropriate."
Fluke coughed.
"That's reassuring."
P'Cherry ignored him.
"More personal interviews. Behind-the-scenes material. Lifestyle content. And another photographic series."
Orm looked toward Ling.
Ling remained expressionless.
Khun Dew added,
"They're particularly interested in the idea of showing the relationship becoming more emotionally serious."
Orm's heart skipped.
Ling's eyes finally met hers.
Only for a second.
Then Ling looked away.
That tiny moment said more than any conversation could.
They both knew exactly how dangerous that request was.
Because the relationship wasn't becoming more serious for the cameras.
It already was.
That was the problem.
?
After the meeting, Orm followed P'Cherry toward the creative department.
"P'Cherry?"
The older woman turned.
"Yes?"
"Can I ask something?"
"Of course."
Orm hesitated.
"Does the client know that...?"
She stopped.
P'Cherry smiled.
"Know what?"
Orm sighed.
"Nothing."
P'Cherry laughed.
"You've inherited Ling's habit."
"What habit?"
"Answering your own questions before anyone else can."
Orm smiled.
P'Cherry lowered her voice.
"Don't worry."
"About what?"
"The campaign."
Orm nodded.
P'Cherry gave her a knowing look.
"Sometimes the best campaigns happen when people stop trying so hard to make something look real."
Then she walked away.
Orm stood there.
She wasn't sure whether P'Cherry had meant the campaign.
She suspected she hadn't.
?
The next few days were torture.
Ling became increasingly distant.
Not cruel.
Never cruel.
That would have been easier.
Instead, she was considerate in all the ways that made Orm want to scream.
She still approved Orm's work quickly.
She still made sure she wasn't overloaded.
She still asked whether she had eaten during long meetings.
But she did it through other people.
She sent instructions through assistants.
She left notes.
She asked Bow to remind Orm about deadlines.
She never came directly to her unless necessary.