Love Case Vol. 1

The next morning, Trin assigned Anupap a new project—an advertisement for the country's third most popular pickup truck that had just released a new model.

"I know you're busy, but we don't have much time for this project. Rudee is four months pregnant and starting to work slower. I want you to help out."

"But this type of work isn't my style," Anupap protested lazily.

"I know you don't like this style, but I really don't see anyone else." He stared at the young man's face with a pleading yet commanding expression. Trin knew this type of advertising wasn't Anupap's forte.

Lately, Trin had been struggling frequently. Anupap sympathized with Rudee, who would be inconvenienced having to work on this project during her first trimester. At least, Rudee had helped with his work many times before.

Trin explained the basic details for Anupap to follow up with the AE and summarize an action plan within three days.

"But I have a credit card commercial to present early next week," Anupap objected.

"I know you can do it. You are the best."

Trin complimented him, using his final card. Anupap smiled at the praise and went back to report to Sombat.

"Indirect forced compliments. When the emperor commands, the concubine must comply," Sombat pursed his lips.

Anupap objected, "I'm not a concubine."

"A royal consort, then."

"Stop teasing me, P'Bud."

"Oh right, not a concubine nor a consort. I forgot. He wants you to be his empress, but you're playing too hard to get. Why don't you surrender to him, quickly sacrifice yourself to the emperor," Sombat laughed melodiously.

"P'Bud, let's focus on work instead of joking around."

"Right, right. So this afternoon we'll call a meeting. What's the concept?" Sombat got down to business.

"Create an image that reaches the people, benefits the community. The actor is a police officer, using the car as part of life that creates value for the local area. No matter how close they are, police don't give up. Even outside work hours, they still help citizens with other tasks beyond their regular duties," Anupap explained roughly.

"Wow, they gave us such a clear framework? This makes our creative work so easy."

"That's good, P'Bud. Saves us a lot of time. Getting such a clear concept makes it easier to execute. Actually, I'm taking over from Rudee. At four months pregnant, she might not be able to handle it. There's not much time left. Khun Trin has Rudee doing lighter work."

"And now we have to go make countryside commercials," Sombat didn't really like going to the provinces. He preferred studio commercials or those shot in Bangkok, or work featuring young male models or good-looking celebrities.

In the afternoon, Anupap met with his team to plan. Pojanee and Mark were excited about going to the provinces—those two loved to travel. Atid received an important assignment: finding a male model from modeling agencies to play the police officer. The young man accepted the task reluctantly. "Why do I get the difficult job? The modeling agencies we regularly use only have pretty boy models."

Everyone laughed because it was a running joke that had become company entertainment.

"Not necessarily. If we really can't find anyone, we might use a real police officer we're close to," Sombat said casually with pursed lips.

After the meeting ended, Sombat whispered to Anupap, "Don't need to find any police actor. You have someone close by. Court that captain to be our model. Like, in exchange for car repair costs. Hehe, much more economical."

"Stop teasing already."

"I really want to see this beloved captain of yours, how handsome and alluring he must be. He probably has that sharp, intense look, fierce, manly, cool... Mmm..." Sombat acted dreamy and floated out of the meeting room.

Atid quickly walked over to talk with Anupap.

"P'Nu, can I give you a ride home tonight? I see your car is still at the garage," the young man smiled widely, showing off his white teeth.

"It's okay, Atid. I'll just take a taxi—it's quick. You don't need to trouble yourself," Anupap smiled, starting to walk out of the meeting room.

Atid followed. "I have business in Thonglor, meeting a friend. Giving you a ride wouldn't be any trouble at all. Just this once. No need to waste money on taxi fare."

"Your friend will be waiting," Anupap tried to find an excuse.

"It's okay. Nothing serious. My friend can wait. Please, P'Nu, I'd like to give you a ride for once," Atid pressed forward. Anupap was surprised—today Atid was bolder than ever.

Anupap remembered Sombat's words: "Feel sorry for the kid. Do some good for him. Atid's small happiness."

Anupap knew he had rejected Atid's good intentions many times already. Maybe trying what P'Bud suggested wouldn't hurt. But part of him feared Atid would get in deeper, thinking he was starting to open his heart. Once there was a first time, there would be a second, or third. Atid might become bolder and more aggressive.

"Or do you really not want me to give you a ride?" Atid complained, putting on a sad face.

"No, I just don't want to bother anyone," Anupap explained.

"It's no bother. I just thought since I'm going to Thonglor anyway, and your house is just a few alleys over, I could..." Atid looked down.

'Is Atid pretending to be sad, or is this real?' Anupap couldn't help but think. 'Fine, do some good for once, like P'Bud keeps suggesting.'

"Alright then. But let me finish up about fifteen minutes late."

"Yes, yes! I'll hurry and clear up my work first," Atid said quickly, his facial expression changing to his usual wide smile with crinkled eyes, rushing back to his desk.

Atid was everything one could admire in a young man—diligent, quick-witted, effortlessly capable. Every task given to him was completed with quiet precision. His charm was undeniable, his looks flawless, rivaling even those pretty-boy celebrities teenagers swooned over. Fair skin, strong brows, a sharp nose that lent his face a noble elegance. Women—and more than a few ladyboys—flocked to him like moths to a flame.

But what struck Anupap most wasn't his perfection.

It was the way Atid's gaze lingered on him, warm and deliberate, as if Anupap alone held his attention in a room full of distractions.

But why had he never felt even a flutter of attraction? Anupap kept asking himself.

After work, Anupap walked out of the room. Sombat stood waiting near the exit door, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh my, you're really blessed today! Atid is rolling out the red carpet in front of the company. His royal chariot is parked right over there." Sombat pursed his lips toward the parking lot in front of the building.

Atid stood smiling sheepishly beside his car, waiting.

"Should I have little Prince Suriya come help carry your things, Anupap?" Sombat continued his teasing. [Note: in Thai, Suriya and Atid means the same thing-the sun.]

Anupap shook his head, bid farewell to his senior colleague, then walked straight toward the luxurious black Mercedes-Benz.

Atid's family was well-off—he didn't need to work to live comfortably since his parents indulged their youngest son in everything. A pretty boy like Atid could easily become a celebrity, but the young man wanted to gain work experience on his own. His reason for working at this company was "Everyone here is so good to me."

But Sombat added, "Especially P'Nu," then burst into giggles.

Atid said he wanted to gain experience, dreaming that someday he'd own an advertising company.

"P'Nu, are you hungry?" Atid flashed his signature wide smile.

Anupap shook his head and said he'd only had salad for dinner—homemade—and still had work to do.

"P'Nu should rest sometimes. I'm worried about you." Anupap was thinking that Atid was becoming bolder than before.

Maybe letting Atid give him a ride home tonight wasn't such a good idea. Next time, Atid would surely pester him again, maybe even dare to express himself more boldly than before. But whatever—it was just a ride home, not a big deal. At least he could have him drop him off at some random condo, like he did with Captain Atikom.

Captain Atikom... The image of the handsome police officer surfaced in his thoughts.

Atid chatted throughout the drive. The young man was a good conversationalist. When it came to general topics, Anupap could talk with Atid for a long time and laugh with genuine enjoyment, mostly about funny incidents from work.

When they reached the intersection in the middle of the alley, Atid had to slam on the brakes hard, along with another car that nearly collided with them. A beautiful bronze BMW sports car suddenly emerged from the left side of the intersection. The front bumpers of the two luxury cars came within inches of each other. Fortunately, they didn't crash.

Atid sighed with relief, while Anupap instinctively turned to look at the other car.

...Captain Atolp,… he exclaimed inwardly.

That big man in the driver's seat, wearing a white shirt, smiled broadly at him, raised an eyebrow playfully, and made a cheeky face.

Anupap blinked slowly, then turned his face forward again. Atid bowed his head in thanks and quickly sped ahead.

Anupap had no idea that the police officer interpreted his behavior as 'Damn, playing hard to get, getting all flustered because I saw him with a young guy.'

Anupap thought of Sombat and his advice to 'make merit.'

He sighed softly. 'Making merit'—instead of gaining merit today, he'd truly gotten unlucky, because he knew that troublesome police officer would definitely use what just happened at the intersection to tease him later.

Every day before noon, Anupap would receive a phone call from Police Captain Atikom, calling to report on the progress of the car repairs and then inviting him into lengthy conversations about how 'an accident is just an accident.'

The captain was quite the talker, telling Anupap, "Don't think that my car rear-ended yours. Please think of it as an accident, otherwise it makes me feel guilty. Making others suffer is sinful, you know."

So was he in the wrong here?Anupap sighed almost every time they argued about the car.

"Debate, don't call it arguing," the troublemaker had reasoned before. And the conversation would always end with questions about where he went to eat and with whom.

"So basically, you eat at the same places with the same people every day?" Atikom would ask.

Anupap would say that if he found a place where the food was good, the atmosphere pleasant, he was happy, and no one bothered him, he had no reason to change.

"Wow, so I guess the noodles in front of 7-Eleven aren't very tasty," Atikom would tease.

Today was like every other day. The phone on his desk rang about fifteen minutes before noon while Anupap was busy selecting photos of male models. Police Captain Atikom was on the line, his voice cheerful as always. He called to ask how Anupap had gotten to work.

"I'm worried you might have trouble getting around," Anupap still remembered Atikom saying.

"Taking taxis is expensive, and does someone give you a ride home? We live in the same alley. You could hitch a ride with me to work—I won't charge much," the police officer offered.

Atikom had already hung up. Anupap sat still, looking at the phone. The police officer's voice still echoed in his ears: 'Just two hundred baht a day. If we stop to grab something to eat before going home, I can pay for that too.' ...Two hundred baht—the fee he was charging for pick-up and drop-off services.

Anupap shook his head, both irritated and amused. How much longer would he must deal with this police officer?

He got out of the taxi and stepped briskly into the company, sweat beading across his face. Today was hotter than usual. Unfortunately, he'd gotten into a taxi whose air conditioning decided to break down halfway through the journey. Anupap tossed his work folder onto his desk and decided he needed to call the garage. He wanted to know when he'd get his car back.

"Oh sir, it's not finished yet. It's only been a week. We still need to pull the body, do body work, sand and paint, plus many other things. It takes time, sir," the garage mechanic answered his question.

Anupap pressed, "Can't you rush it? I really need my car."

The voice on the other end began to sound irritated. "Every customer is in a hurry, sir. I have to work according to the queue."

Anupap hung up feeling deflated, thinking of the annoying face of that police officer. If he hadn't been rear-ended, he wouldn't be in this situation, wouldn't have had to take his car to a garage in the middle of nowhere.

Anupap found himself thinking about Atikom, who just had to drive into the back of his car.

As if sensing that Anupap wanted to complain, his phone rang. The voice on the other end was none other than the culprit himself.

"Today I asked at the garage, and they still haven't finished fixing the car," Anupap immediately complained.

"Come on, it's only been a week. It won't be finished that quickly," the police officer defended himself.

"But didn't you say you knew this garage and they'd give special treatment?"

Atikom laughed sheepishly. "The garage probably has a lot of cars coming in, so they can't really rush the work."

"You sound just like the garage said earlier. I just called them, and they said exactly the same thing," Anupap said sarcastically, his voice sharp.

Atikom quickly explained, "Well, I just talked to the garage too. Big Brother Chai said he'd hurry it up."

Anupap shot back, "When did you talk to them?"

The police officer who had become the defendant scratched his head, stammering weakly, "Yesterday, but don't worry. If the car isn't finished by this week, I can pick you up for work. Free service."

"I hope you mean what you say. I go to work at seven every morning. You probably can't wake up that early," the young man said sarcastically.

"Hey, making it sound like I sleep in," the other end protested. "That morning when our cars collided..."

"You rear-ended my car," Anupap interjected, correcting the statement.

"Right, right. The day of the accident when I rear-ended you, I was also leaving home for work. See? We both go to work early at the same time," Atikom emphasized his words, making Anupap visualize the police officer's smiling face in his mind, and he couldn't help but feel that the other party was deliberately teasing him.

"That day wasn't called early. The day you rear-ended my car, I went to work later than usual. Eight thirty-five," Anupap emphasized his words the same way.

"Oh, overslept," Atikom pretended to understand.

"No, I just left for work late."

"Someone who leaves for work late means they overslept," the police officer still argued.

"No..." Anupap lost himself... why did he have to argue about this... 

He began to feel that the police officer was deliberately being annoying.

"Fine, either way, you can't pick me up for work at seven every morning. It's not that easy," Anupap cut him off, suggesting that someone with the carefree, playful attitude of this police officer was probably all talk and no action.

"Don't challenge me. I can pick you up at exactly seven every morning until your car is finished. If I can't do it, I'll pay for your gas for six months. Want to bet?" The other end challenged.

Anupap rolled his eyes, feeling more frustrated thinking about how the police officer's car had no insurance. If it had first-class insurance, everything would be over by now—he could take his car to the service center, insurance would pay, and when it was time, he'd pick up his car. The service center for his car brand was near his house with excellent, fast service.

He couldn't help but complain, "Your car is so fancy, how can it not have insurance? If it had insurance, I could have taken my car to my garage by now. It's in an alley near my house. I could even go sit and watch every day."

Atikom quickly defended himself, "The insurance had lapsed. I was busy with work and didn't renew it. Who would know the insurance expired just a few days before I rear-ended you?"

"Never mind, consider it my karma," Anupap sighed.

"I think it's more like destiny," Atikom went with the flow smoothly.

Anupap imagined the police officer's face, always smiling and in a good mood. Sometimes he wondered if there would ever be a time when Atikom would furrow his brow and look stern, because every time they met, those sharp eyes seemed to always be smiling. Every time the other party teased him, those eyes would dance playfully as if they could speak instead of his mouth.

"Hello? Hello?" the voice from the other end grew louder.

Anupap snapped back to reality after spacing out for a moment. He had gone quiet for a while.

"How about this—you draw me a map, and next week I'll go to the garage to check on the progress, see how far they've gotten. Big Brother Chai should understand me somewhat. Draw the map and fax it to..."

"You don't need to go that far. But if you really want to see, I'll volunteer to take you there," Atikom negotiated.

"If that's the case, never mind. I'll just call the garage and ask them to send me a map," Anupap didn't give in.

Atikom quickly sent his voice through the line, "Come on, I'll take you. It's much more convenient. Even with a map, what if you get lost? Taxis are hard to find. Don't you remember, if it rains on the way and you can't get a taxi, or the taxi driver gets you lost, and then you get tricked into who knows what, who's going to come help you?"

"Are you crazy? I'm a man. How could a taxi driver do that to me?" Anupap was annoyed.

"Do what?"

"Do whatever you're thinking, you pervert," Anupap replied.

"Hey, are you the one thinking perverted thoughts? I meant the taxi driver might trick you into robbery or mugging," Atikom said seriously. "What were you thinking?"

Anupap was speechless. "..."

Atikom then launched into a whole river of explanations.

Anupap grew weary of all the various reasons the law enforcement officer raised, chattering away on the phone line.

Thinking it over, it seemed like a good idea after all. No money wasted, no hassle, just sitting in the car. But he might have to endure this man's sharp wit a little.

Anupap thought about many things, then decided to weigh the pros and cons and saw that it would probably be better to have a chauffeur drive him.

'The person at fault should take responsibility.'

"If that's the case, Saturday afternoon then," Anupap set the time.

Atikom objected, "I think a weekday afternoon would be better, because Saturday afternoon is too soon. Yesterday, they probably just started working on the car and haven't done much."

But Anupap argued, "I'm busy on weekday afternoons. Do you want me to take leave to go to the garage?"

Atikom negotiated, "Just leave the office an hour early, get to the garage by five. They close at six in the evening. There's time."

Anupap didn't want to go at such a tight time because the return trip would mean it would be dinner time at six, and the police officer would probably find an excuse to invite him to eat and delay the return to the city like last time.

"Don't worry, this time we won't get stuck in the rain waiting for a taxi because we're driving ourselves," Atikom quickly intercepted, as if reading his mind. "And I promise this time I'll treat you to good food. I guarantee it won't just be noodles in front of 7-Eleven."

Strange person. Atikom was reading his mind. Anupap thought to himself.

In the end, Atikom came up with enough reasons to explain to Anupap until the young man gave in, agreeing to go to the garage together on Wednesday afternoon. He would have to leave the office an hour and a half early, at three in the afternoon.

Even though work was busy, Anupap had to go tp the garage to see with his own eyes.