Painted

Chapter 4

The days following their charged text exchange left Rebecca in a whirlpool of emotions. Every ping lighting up her phone sent a thrill through her—an intoxicating reminder of the banter that both exhilarated and unsettled her. Despite her growing attraction, Rebecca remained determined to uphold her independence, resisting the pull that Sarocha seemed to embody. After all, vulnerability was a dangerous game, and she couldn’t afford the distraction of romance while her architectural projects demanded her full attention.

As Rebecca immersed herself in her craft, she worked with laser focus, her sketches sprawled across her desk like an artist's canvas, each line representing her commitment to the discipline. The soft hum of the office was a comfort, a world where she thrived on creativity and purpose. Yet, despite the busy atmosphere, thoughts of Sarocha often slipped through the cracks of her concentration. Why did she feel so drawn to someone who embodied everything she sought to resist? The thrill of keeping Sarocha guessing was intoxicating, a secret pleasure that tangled her heart in knots.

In quiet moments, as she pushed through with characteristic focus, she had to wonder why it felt as though every encounter left her feeling as if she had something to prove? And, perhaps more curiously, why did that challenge excite her? Still, her resolve remained steady: whatever this was, it was fleeting, a passing intrigue at best. She needed to hold her ground.

Tonight's gathering was a small, intimate event, hosted by Heng, a well-respected figure in the architecture community. He had invited Rebecca and a select few others to discuss ideas over cocktails, emphasizing the need for fresh perspectives on their current projects. Rebecca anticipated a relaxed atmosphere where her insights could shine, far removed from the pressures of larger, more formal events. But as she entered the softly lit venue, she felt a twinge of unease.

The intimate gathering buzzed with conversation, laughter weaving through the air like a fine tapestry. Rebecca scanned the room, seeking out Heng, but as she did, her eyes landed on a familiar figure standing across the room. Sarocha was engaged in conversation with the curator from one of Bangkok’s most prestigious art museums. Their chemistry crackled like electricity, and for a brief moment, Rebecca's heart raced with a mix of surprise and dread. She hadn’t expected to see Sarocha here; the sight of her instantly knocked Rebecca off balance.

Sarocha, catching Rebecca’s gaze, looked equally surprised, her eyes widening slightly before a playful glint emerged, turning her surprise into a challenge. “Well, if it isn’t the architect of the hour,” she said, her voice smooth and inviting, effortlessly drawing Rebecca in. “Didn’t think you’d attend a gathering like this.”

“Neither did I,” Rebecca replied, her tone measured, though she felt the thrill of their connection. “But it seems Heng has a knack for convincing people to step outside their comfort zones.” She offered a cool smile, determined to regain her composure.

“Heng knows how to attract the best minds,” Sarocha said, her lips curving into that infuriatingly charming smile that sent tingles down Rebecca’s spine. “And apparently, the best distractions.”

The tension was palpable, an unspoken challenge lingering in the air as they stood surrounded by colleagues and industry types. Rebecca could feel the curious glances of others, their conversation drawing attention, but she was resolute. She wouldn’t let Sarocha’s charm dismantle her defenses. “I’d say a distraction is only as good as its company,” she shot back, her voice steady, laced with just the right amount of challenge.

Sarocha raised an eyebrow, impressed yet unfazed. “Careful, Rebecca. You might just be flirting with danger.”

“Is that what this is?” Rebecca countered, crossing her arms in a playful yet assertive gesture. “A dangerous flirtation? I thought we were here to discuss architecture, not play games.”