Inside the black Jaguar, the engine hummed softly as Rafah drove Petra toward her favorite French restaurant. Streetlights passed in steady rhythm, casting alternating shadows across the cabin. A comfortable silence settled between them, until Rafah was the one who finally spoke.
"How long have you been working as a conservation focused creator?"
The question caught Petra slightly off guard. She glanced at Rafah's profile as she drove and answered honestly.
"About two or three years."
"Since you graduated?"
"No. I worked at an agency as an account executive for a while, but it didn't feel right. So I quit and decided to do this full time."
Rafah nodded, then asked in an even tone, "And is the income enough to support yourself? Freelance work like this doesn't usually pay very well, does it?"
Petra smiled faintly. She was no longer offended by questions like this. She had heard them often enough to grow used to them.
"To be honest, I'm also trying to prove myself to my mom," she said calmly. "The income isn't very high, but I take on translation work and write articles on the side. It's enough for me to live on. In the future, if I have more time, I'd like to start an educational page about endangered wildlife, to help people understand why it matters."
"You seem very committed to what you do," Rafah said.
"I am," Petra replied. "Because it's something I truly care about."
"With your looks, you could easily be an actress or an idol," Rafah added.
Petra laughed, her shoulders relaxing. "I've been invited to audition a few times, but I never went. That path just isn't for me."
"Why not? The pay would probably be better."
"I just don't like it," Petra said. "I know myself well enough. I'd rather stay behind the camera."
Rafah glanced at her briefly. "And where do you see yourself in five years?"
The question made Petra laugh softly. She turned to Rafah with a teasing look.
"Khun Rafah, do you realize you sound like you're interviewing me for a job right now?"
Rafah smiled faintly. "Sorry. I'm not very good at small talk."
Petra could sense the effort behind the words. She no longer felt as guarded as before. What remained was only a reasonable level of caution.
"When you asked just now," she said gently, "did you mean work, or something more personal?"
"Anything you're comfortable sharing," Rafah replied. "I just want to listen."
Petra was quiet for a moment.
"Honestly, I've never planned that far ahead," she said softly. "I live one day at a time. I'm content with what I have. I try not to suffer too much over problems, and I don't cling too tightly to happiness when it comes. In the end, everything passes."
Rafah shrugged. "You don't sound very ambitious."
"If everyone were ambitious all the time, the world would probably be even more chaotic than it already is," Petra replied calmly. "I'm not competing with anyone, and the world still feels like a mess."
"That's fair," Rafah said.
Petra smiled, then added playfully, "I forgot to tell you. Back in university, my friends actually nicknamed me 'Sloth.' "
Rafah raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why?"
"Because I live slowly and do everything at my own pace," Petra said. "They teased me for being lazy, like a sloth."
A quiet laugh escaped Rafah's lips.
Petra paused, then looked at her with mild surprise. It was the first time she had seen Rafah laugh so openly. This time, Petra asked instead,
"And you, Khun Rafah? Where do you see yourself in five years?"
"As long as I'm not dead," Rafah replied calmly, "that would already be good enough."
Petra burst out laughing. "I didn't know you could joke like that."
"Why? Do I really seem that cold to you?"
"Well, yes," Petra admitted. "Has no one ever told you?"
Rafah shrugged lightly. "That depends on who's looking."
She was quiet for a moment, then turned to Petra again.
"What about you? What kind of people do you feel comfortable being around?"
Petra frowned slightly. "That sounds like a strange question, Khun Rafah."
"Strange? I think it's fairly normal."
Petra shot back at once, her eyes sharp with awareness.
"Are you trying to figure out my type right now?"
For a brief moment, Rafah paused, as if she had been seen through. She kept her composure, but Petra noticed the hesitation.
"I was just making conversation," Rafah said.
The excuse made Petra smile.
It was the first time she had seen Rafah look even slightly off balance. Part of Petra wanted to tease her a little more. Another part wondered if that might push her too far. In the end, she chose the safer response.
"I don't really have a specific type," Petra said. "My preferences aren't fixed. But if I had to answer quickly, I guess I'd say… I'm drawn to intelligent people."
"Intelligent?" Rafah repeated. "As in geniuses?"
Petra laughed softly. "Not that kind. I mean people who are smart about living."
Rafah glanced at her. "What does that mean, exactly?"
Petra thought for a moment before answering. "I'm not sure I can explain it perfectly," she said calmly. "At the very least, someone who doesn't drag themselves into unnecessary trouble. Someone who understands their own thoughts. If they're happy, they acknowledge it. If they're sad, they accept that too. And they know how to take responsibility for where they are in life."
Rafah tilted her head slightly. "That sounds like a pretty high standard."
Petra let out a quiet laugh. "If it were easy, I probably wouldn't still be single," she said. "I would've found that person a long time ago."
She paused, then shifted the balance of the conversation.
"I've answered a lot of your questions already," Petra continued. "So let me ask you something. Why did you choose to work at the foundation? Don't you ever think about going back to help manage your mother's hotel business? The Éclat Group owns several five star hotels. Honestly, that sounds much easier than working at a foundation."
Rafah paused, clearly not expecting Petra to know that much.
"You seem to know quite a bit about me," she said. "Almost no one ever brings up The Éclat Group. That business belongs to my mother's side of the family. I'm not directly involved. My uncle handles most of it."
She glanced at Petra again, her gaze unreadable.
"I'd say… you seem fairly interested in me yourself."
Petra stiffened slightly, then responded at once.
"Well, I have to work with you, don't I?" she said quickly. "It's normal to research your client. There's nothing special about that."
Rafah smiled.
"Is that so?"
Her voice lowered just a little, carrying a teasing edge.
"That's a shame. I thought you might be more interested in me than that."
Petra went quiet.
That warm smile, that playful look, made her heart beat faster without warning. She could sense it clearly now. Something about Rafah had shifted.
Petra turned her gaze toward the window, watching the lights outside slide past, and spoke again to change the subject.
"The restaurant we're going to," she said. "Are we close yet? You said it's by the Chao Phraya River. I didn't expect it to be this far."
…
After a short drive, Rafah brought Petra to a French bistro-style restaurant inside a luxury hotel by the Chao Phraya River.
The moment Petra stepped inside, she felt as if she had entered another world. Everything about the place was elegant and restrained, steeped in unmistakable French charm. The restaurant was not large, but every detail was carefully considered. Small chandeliers hung from the ceiling, woven together with long strands of green vines. One wall was dominated by a mural of a rainy Paris street, silhouettes holding umbrellas beneath glowing streetlights, with the Eiffel Tower faintly visible in the distance.
Petra sat across from Rafah, suddenly aware of her own presence. The atmosphere made her feel quietly self-conscious. This felt like Rafah's world, not the world of someone like her.
Out of courtesy, she picked up the menu. Her eyes skimmed over the French dish names, most of them so difficult to read she could barely guess what they were. It reminded her of the last time Rafah had taken her to a French restaurant, the night she had been asked to clear things up with Napassorn. Back then, it had been a fixed course, not an à la carte menu like this.
Petra took a slow breath and masked her nerves with a small smile. Unsure of what to order, she spoke up to ease the awkwardness.
"You really like French food, don't you?"
Rafah looked up from the menu, slightly surprised.
"How did you know?"
Petra smiled.
"It would be strange if I didn't notice. This is the second time you've taken me to a French restaurant. The first time was when you asked me to meet you to settle things with Khun Phat. And now… it's French food again."
Rafah fell quiet. Only then did she realize she had never once asked Petra whether she liked this kind of food, or even whether she was comfortable eating it.
"You're right," Rafah said after a moment. "I invited you to dinner. I should've asked what you wanted to eat, or what you don't like. If French food isn't your thing, we can still change restaurants."
Petra shook her head quickly.
"No, it's not like that. I can eat anything. I was just curious."
Rafah thought for a moment.
"Well, I'm not sure I'd say I like it," she said honestly. "I lived in France for a while. Back then, my father was a minister-counselor at the embassy in Paris, so our family moved there. I was around seven or eight, I think. I probably just got used to the flavors."
Petra's eyes widened.
"Wait, I didn't know you lived in France. Does that mean you can speak French?"
"A little," Rafah replied calmly, without a trace of pride. "I'm not very good."
"Could you say something for me?" Petra asked, smiling. "Just one sentence."
"I haven't used French in a long time. I don't remember much."
"It's okay," Petra insisted. "Please try, Khun Rafah. Being able to speak multiple languages is really cool."
Rafah lowered her gaze, a faint smile touching her lips as if she were giving in. Then she spoke softly.
"Je suis heureuse que tu sois venue dîner avec moi. Ce dîner sera un autre beau souvenir."
Petra blinked.
"What does that mean?"
"I'm glad you came to have dinner with me," Rafah translated. "This meal will probably become another good memory."
When she finished, Rafah lifted her eyes, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
Petra had no idea how to deal with Rafah like this. She looked away at once, trying to hide the warmth rising to her cheeks despite herself. Now she was no longer sure what Rafah really meant when she said she wanted to get to know her again as a colleague.
That word, colleague.
What kind of colleague was Rafah talking about?
From the moment they got into the car until now, Petra felt as if Rafah had been flirting with her without pause.
In the end, unsure how to respond, Petra did what she always did. She changed the subject.
"I want to try this one, Khun Rafah." She pointed at a picture on the menu and slid it toward her. "Could you order it for me?"
She said it with a smile, and that alone was enough for Rafah to give in and follow her lead.
Petra had always been very good at dodging her.
.
.
Not long after they placed their order, the staff began bringing the dishes out one by one. Most of them were chosen by Rafah, since Petra had no idea what to order. Surprisingly, every dish Rafah picked turned out to be excellent.
They ate in near silence.
Only their eyes met from time to time.
Petra noticed that Rafah never let her wine glass stay empty for long. Each time a server passed by, it was promptly refilled. Yet despite drinking steadily, Rafah showed no sign of intoxication at all. Her gaze remained sharp and controlled.
As the plates were slowly cleared away, Rafah finally spoke.
"I usually think I'm good at reading people," she said evenly. "I can tell what someone's thinking just by the way they look at me." Her eyes fixed on Petra. "It was the same with you. When we first met, I thought you were interested in me."
"Isn't that just your imagination, Khun Rafah?" Petra shot back at once. The words were a denial, but the glint in her eyes was unmistakably teasing.
Rafah smiled. "I don't think so."
"Oh?" Petra raised an eyebrow. "Then what made you think that?"
"At the fundraising gala that night," Rafah replied calmly, "you kept sneaking glances at me the entire time."
The words stopped Petra cold.
She had been watching Rafah that night. There was no point denying it. Even Tharin, who had been there with her, had teased her about it afterward. She just never imagined Rafah had noticed.
Petra forced herself to respond.
"That night… I was just doing my job."
Rafah tilted her head slightly, studying her with faint amusement.
"Then you were very dedicated," she said. "You couldn't take your eyes off the host. Me."
The combination of Rafah's gaze and tone left Petra momentarily at a loss, but she still pushed back.
"I think you're being rather full of yourself, Khun Rafah."
"So you're saying I misunderstood?"
"Yes," Petra replied evenly. "You misunderstood."
Rafah nodded, as if accepting the explanation. Yet the look in her eyes made it clear she did not believe a word of it. Still, she went along with it, like someone who enjoyed keeping the upper hand.
"Then I suppose I really did misunderstand," she said lightly. "I must be used to it."
"Used to it?" Petra echoed.
"In the past, people were always the ones approaching me," Rafah continued. "I got used to assuming everyone was interested." She looked straight at Petra. "You're the only one I ever had to approach first."
The words lingered between them.
Rafah had been pressing her since the moment they got into the car, all the way through dinner. But Petra was not young, nor naive. She was tired of vague words that invited overthinking, and even more exhausted when they came from Rafah.
So she spoke calmly.
"You're my employer, Khun Rafah. And I'm the one being hired. You don't need to try this hard to approach me."
Rafah met her gaze directly. Her eyes were still, almost unreadable.
"And who said I want to be just your employer?" she asked quietly. "Right now, I don't think I've been acting that way at all, Petra."
The meaning was unmistakable.
Petra did not need any further explanation.
She had thought Rafah had backed off after the night they cleared the air in the car. Now she understood that Rafah had never intended to retreat, not even for a second.
During work hours, Rafah played her role perfectly. Professional. Proper. Keeping everything neatly within the boundaries of employer and employee.
But once work ended, she did not hold back at all.
"If you don't want to be my employer," Petra asked, "then what do you want to be?"
The question sounded like a test. But it was also an opening, an invitation. Petra genuinely wanted to know Rafah's answer.
Rafah smiled.
"Why don't we talk about that in the car," she said calmly, "after we finish dinner?"
Then she returned to her meal as if nothing had happened.
Petra watched her, a sinking feeling settling in her chest. She never should have agreed to this dinner in the first place.
…
At the VIP parking area of the luxury hotel.
After dinner, Rafah led Petra back to the car. A soft click sounded as it unlocked, and they slid into their seats. The moment the door closed, Rafah spoke, giving Petra no time to prepare herself.
"I want to answer the question we left unfinished at the restaurant," she said calmly. "I want you to be my girlfriend."
Petra turned sharply, her eyes widening.
"What did you just say, Khun Rafah?"
Rafah leaned back against the seat, relaxed, angling her body slightly toward Petra. Her sharp gaze locked onto her, a faint smile curving her lips.
"I think I was very clear."
"Khun Rafah, we just talked things through a few days ago."
"You mean when you said you'd only give me a chance in terms of work?"
"Yes."
Rafah let out a soft chuckle and shrugged, as if it were no issue at all.
"Well, I want more than that."
Petra stared at her, disbelief crashing into frustration. The emotions piling up in her chest made her want to clutch her head and scream.
"Khun Rafah… you really are something else." She pressed her fingers to her temples. "I honestly don't know what to say to you anymore. What kind of person are you, exactly?"
Rafah met her gaze head on.
"I'm someone who catches on quickly," she said. "I realized it after you tore into me that night. And I'm serious about being honest with myself. At the very least, I've never lied about how I feel."
She paused, her eyes steady.
"Not like some people around here.
Petra froze. She knew exactly who Rafah meant.
"Listen carefully, Petra," Rafah continued. "I may have said this many times already, but I'll say it again if I have to. I am truly sorry for how I treated you before. I hope you can forgive everything I've done."
Her voice lowered. "Please forgive me."
Petra let out a long breath.
"Do you really think saying things like this will make me stop being angry?"
Instead of answering directly, Rafah smiled.
"It probably will," she said lightly. "After all, you agreed to have dinner with me."
Petra frowned, her voice sharpening despite herself.
"Khun Rafah."
Rafah's smile didn't fade. Her eyes remained steady, as if she could see straight through Petra.
"I really am sorry," she said. "I just want you to stop being angry with me. Look at this. I've gone this far to make it up to you. Are you really not going to soften up, even a little?"
The words hung heavy in the air. The conversation stalled.
Petra lowered her gaze. Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it. She wanted to snap back, like she always did, but what came out instead was a trembling voice filled with confusion.
"Khun Rafah, let me ask you something directly. What exactly do you want from me? You said you wanted to get to know me as a colleague, and I gave you that chance. But you keep dropping sweet words, again and again. And now this, talking about being my girlfriend, half serious, half joking. Honestly, you're confusing me. I don't even know how I'm supposed to act anymore."
Rafah shifted closer. The space between them disappeared until Petra could feel her breath. A slender hand lifted Petra's chin gently, guiding her to meet her eyes.
"You know," Rafah said softly, "confusion like that is very easy to fix. All you have to do is agree to be my girlfriend. Then you can act however you like, as Rafah Witchakornin's girlfriend."
Petra went completely still.
"You…"
"Just answer yes," Rafah cut in. "Will you?"
"No." Petra refused firmly.
Rafah studied her, as if trying to read every emotion she was hiding.
"But I think we feel the same way," she said quietly. "Even if you pretend you feel nothing for me, I can tell. You're lying to yourself."
Petra stayed silent. Every word rang true, and she wasn't ready to admit it.
"It's just…"
"Just what?"
"It's too fast, Khun Rafah," she said softly. "Everything is happening too fast."
Rafah drew in a deep breath. The silence stretched before her voice finally softened, as if she were conceding.
"Alright. Then what do you suggest we do?"
Petra turned to the window. The lights reflecting off the river shimmered like something unreachable, blurred and uncertain, just like whatever stood between them.
"Let's keep it like this for now."
"Like what?"
"Colleagues," Petra replied. "Employer and hired professional."
Rafah considered her words.
"And is there a chance it could become more than that?"
"That depends on you, Khun Rafah," Petra said calmly. "On how far you can take it."
Rafah fell silent. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face, one that suggested quiet satisfaction.
"Very well, my lady."
She said it lightly before turning her attention back to the road. One hand tightened around the steering wheel, though the smile never left her lips. The engine hummed to life, and the black Jaguar rolled smoothly out of the parking area.
Petra sat beside her in silence, her gaze fixed on the passing lights outside.
She no longer knew whether her decision was right or wrong.
But one thing was certain.
She had already opened her heart to Rafah, at least halfway.
...
Hojicha Writer
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