At Network Solutions
The 'problematic engineer' sat in his chair without a care in the world, feet propped up on his desk, while the 'other' company owner stood nearby, complaining.
"What did you do this time, troublemaker? He's calling the company owner to meet him. Says he wants to cancel the contract," Sarayoot stood looking at Wittawin, who just sat there listening.
"Don't be such a worrier, Uncle Yoot. He can't just cancel like that. What's his reason? Because I dropped a key that grazed his head and didn't go see him when he ordered me to? Just that? This Khun Teeradon has lost his mind. Let him try to cancel—he'll definitely get sued." The young engineer shrugged, speaking matter-of-factly.
"Why do you want to have trouble with him so badly?" Sarayoot shook his head.
"I don't want trouble. You saw clearly that he was picking a fight with us. I already apologized to him. But if he wants to play games with business, we'll win in court. Our work has been impeccable."
"Yes," Sarayoot drawled in understanding, "but it's still a hassle, Win. It'll take forever to resolve. Better to avoid trouble altogether. Go apologize to him."
"I wanted the company owner to talk to him. The owner went. What more does he want?" Wittawin sounded tired and annoyed.
"He specifically described the owner as fair-skinned, with thick eyebrows, a prominent nose, and red lips. How does he know we own the company? You said you barely exchanged a few words—just told him to pass the wrench. You didn't argue with him, right?"
"Hell if I know," Wittawin shrugged.
"Win, I'm not joking. His secretary promised to help smooth things over, but we still need to go see him because he's the client. He's the one paying us."
"Our most important client, I know. But a client this difficult—even if I apologize, we probably won't be able to communicate properly." Wittawin put his feet down and stood up, preparing to leave for work.
"Tomorrow, please. I'm begging you. If this job falls through, we lose tens of millions in revenue," Sarayoot said seriously.
"Fine, fine," Wittawin agreed, grabbing his toolbox and striding toward the door. Before leaving, he turned back with a sly smile at his business partner who was ten years his senior gave him order.
"Talk to him nicely. Don't be difficult. Stay calm. He's not that bad—probably just a bit irritated. Nod more than you shake your head."
"Yes, sir," Wittawin nodded and opened the door, quickly escaping the man who always acts as his 'father' who was only ten years older.
Cocky little brat. Acts all high and mighty, thinks he's so important, likes giving orders. How are we supposed to have a proper conversation.
Wittawin tried to picture the president of Kunanon Brewery Corporation as he strapped his toolbox to the back of his trusty motorcycle, then gunned the engine straight toward Pumpui Kindergarten, owned by his high school friend Pirayu, to help install a computer system at a 'special' price.
The adorable-named kindergarten had a very shady atmosphere because the owner loved trees. Pirayu was a calm person whose only mood seemed to be smiling almost constantly—sometimes Wittawin teased him about whether he closed his smile when he slept. The young school owner was gentle, loved children, and was frugal.
Very frugal—so frugal he's only paying me ten thousand baht for this job.
"I only have a budget of ten thousand, Win. Right now I have to tighten my belt. The kids eat so much," Pirayu said casually, turning to watch the students playing.
"That belt must be really long. Look at each of them. Should change the name to Baby Elephant Kindergarten, or Baby Hippo Kindergarten, or... wait, but 'Pumpui' already sounds chubby and plump anyway," Wittawin couldn't help teasing. "Only the school owner never gains weight."
"I eat a lot, you know that."
"Where does it all go after you eat? You've been the same skinny stick for years."
Wittawin and Pirayu stopped in front of the room prepared as a computer lab. The school owner gestured and led the way inside. The engineer following behind raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sight of white computers lined up inside.
"Twenty computers, and connect them all to the teachers' room and the machines in the classrooms. And set up a messaging system so we can type from our room and text appears on every screen, like 'Okay kids, stop playing computers and go take your afternoon nap,'" Pirayu said playfully, laughing at his own words.
"All Apple machines. Money to buy expensive equipment but only ten thousand for labor," Wittawin pouted.
"I told you we're saving money to buy snacks for the kids."
"You feed them better than their parents do. All the kids are fat already," Wittawin shook his head, walking over to touch the pristine new computers. "This must have cost a fortune. Making such a big upgrade. Did you lose all your salt? Aren't you completely bland now?" [Note: Thai metaphor. A frugal person is compared to a salty person.]
"No, still salty as ever. Because it's donated money," Pirayu laughed happily.
"Oh, and here you're only paying me ten thousand," Wittawin protested.
"They only gave computers. The networking system wasn't included."
"So basically you're only investing ten thousand," Wittawin held up one finger, eyes wide. Pirayu nodded with a grin and pleaded with his friend once more, knowing full well the other wouldn't refuse.
"Get it done by Christmas, okay? We want the kids to watch Santa Claus jumping around on all the computer screens at the same time, so they can copy the movements. There'll be reindeer poses too. Want to see, Win?"
"No, I don't want to see," Wittawin shook his head immediately.
"The sponsor will be there that day too. We need to have everything ready. We plan to invite the company president, not just the department manager. This company wants to benefit society, so they gave us the computers. Now they want news and photos to put in publications for company PR. Oh, we're inviting celebrities too. A singer will come perform and we'll distribute snacks to the kids. Parents will set up stalls selling things. Win, you can bring a company banner if you want—it's advertising for your company. We'll let you put it up front where it's clearly visible. No charge," Pirayu explained at length as usual.
"That's way too much to think about," Wittawin shook his head again. "I'll rush it, but right now I'm swamped with a freaky company system that's giving me headaches. Might be a bit busy, but I'll do my best."
"What company with the weird name?" Pirayu didn't understand, which was normal for Wittawin—though if you talked numbers and revenue, Pirayu's brain worked lightning fast.
"I really loves kids, especially chubby, roly-poly ones. So, do this for the kids, okay?" Pirayu turned to smile contentedly, looking around his little kingdom filled with adorable children.
Pirayu's world is bright and full of good things. What kind of person can smile all day? But my world... I don't want to talk about it, especially tomorrow morning when I have to face that pompous guy...
Teeradon turned to smile at Sarin, the young model who was gaining fame from several commercial films. After enjoying themselves at the pub, he'd invited the young man for a drive, cruising around taking in the scenery, before ending up at his luxury apartment as usual.
Tonight the roads were empty, the atmosphere perfect.
But...
What the hell...
Teeradon whipped around to look to the side as a loud horn blared, then followed the sound of a large motorcycle engine that cut in front of his car at high speed.
Something commanded his hands and feet to act. Teeradon shifted gears, slammed the accelerator, sending power to the six-cylinder, 3,000cc engine of his jet-black Infiniti G37x, launching it forward.
It didn't take long for Teeradon to close in on the motorcycle.
A BMW, no less. This isn't amateur hour...
Teeradon gunned the engine, intending to overtake the speed demon, but suddenly changed his mind.
Nice ass. An ass like that—I remember. My nemesis right there...
Glancing sideways, Teeradon saw Sarin with his eyes closed, gripping the door handle tightly, looking like he couldn't take much more.
"Khun Don," Sarin called out shakily.
The motorcycle rider glanced back at the car following closely, then pulled into the right lane as if making way. But Teeradon knew it wasn't to let him pass—it was a 'challenge' signal, because as soon as he changed lanes, the cocky rider accelerated immediately.
Let's do this...
Teeradon shifted gears, pushing his speed up to 150 kilometers per hour, feeling his blood pump hot to his face. His hands controlled the steering wheel with fluid precision, dodging and weaving through traffic on the road, trying to catch up with that BMW 1200S.
Not bad skills. If I were on a motorcycle too, this would be even more fun.
"I can't take anymore," Sarin moaned.
Teeradon sighed, forced to ease off the accelerator because the young model sounded like he really couldn't handle it. But as soon as he reduced speed, Teeradon ground his teeth in frustration when he saw his rival immediately slow down as well.
Damn it, weaving back and forth, taunting me. Think I'm going easy on you? If Sarin wasn't here and we weren't about to have our fun, someone like me would never give up. On an open three-lane road like this, I'd show that Infiniti and Teeradon can just beat BMW easily.