Raneethida or Ranee, (for the sake of everyone's tongue) stepped out of Manager Ruby's office with the kind of grin people usually wear after finding out they've won a free vacation or accidentally married rich.
She had neither, but this felt just as good.
"You got it, didn't you?" Nia asked, half-whispering, half-squealing from behind the reception desk.
Ranee nodded like a bobblehead on caffeine. "I'm in."
"Oh my gosh congrats!" Nia bounced out of her chair and hugged her.
Ranee laughed, still riding the high of being officially hired. "I can't believe they said yes. I thought I'd stutter my way into the rejection pile."
"Girl, this place needed you," Nia said, grabbing her arm like she was holding onto a golden ticket. "We've been short-staffed for weeks. Ever since Kiki quit to become a yoga influencer."
"Yoga influencer?"
"Don't ask," Nia said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, welcome to De Haven Phuket. You'll be on shift rotation with me and Aunty Tida."
Ranee blinked. "Aunty who?"
"Don't worry, you'll meet her soon. She's... how do I say this nicely?" Nia paused, thinking. "She's the queen of this reception. Think front desk meets front-line military. But with lipstick."
Before Ranee could reply, a regal voice called from around the corner, "I heard that, Nia."
They both turned.
And there she was.
Aunty Tida poised, sharp-eyed, hair in a tight bun, and lips painted in a red so bold it could stop traffic. She looked Ranee up and down with the judgmental precision of someone scanning for dress code violations in 0.3 seconds.
"So... this is the new one?" she said.
Ranee straightened her posture and tried to smile. "Yes, ma'am."
Aunty Tida narrowed her eyes. Then nodded. "Hmm. You'll do."
Ranee exhaled, unsure whether she just passed a test or signed up for boot camp.
Nia leaned in and whispered, "Don't worry, she warms up after the first... three years."
Ranee giggled.***
That night, the tiny house smelled like instant noodles, coconut candles, and celebration.
Ranee flopped onto the couch with her hands in the air like she'd just finished a marathon. "I'm officially employed, I deserve cake."
Nia appeared from the kitchen holding two mugs of instant chocolate and a slightly burnt muffin. "No cake, but close enough."
They clinked mugs.
"You're welcome, by the way, if I hadn't told you they were looking for an extra receptionist, you'd still be binge watching K-dramas in your pajamas."
"That's fair," Ranee laughed. "Thank you, bestie. You're the reason I now have a job and a reason to wear makeup again."
The house they shared wasn't fancy, but it had stories in its walls. It was the last gift Ranee ever got from her mom left to her after she passed away. And when Ranee's dad remarried and moved away, the place became hers completely.
She and Nia had been living there ever since, sharing bills, heartbreaks, skincare tips, and one very fat orange cat.
Right on cue, Thao the chubby tabby jumped up on the couch and let out a dramatic meow like he had gotten the job.
"He only loves us when food's involved," Ranee said, scratching behind his ears. Thao the cat purred like a tiny, vibrating loaf of bread.
***
While Ranee was sipping cheap hot chocolate and giggling over her new job, the other side was singing a very different tune.
The air in the VIP suite of De Haven Resort was thick with perfume, sweat, and something far less innocent than laughter. Dim lights glowed amber against silk sheets that were no longer neatly tucked in. Clothes lace panties, a crumpled dress shirt, a pair of heels were scattered like forgotten promises across the floor.
Ethan Alexander, 33 years old handsome man, lay back against the cool pillows, chest rising and falling, skin still glistening with sweat. His tie was undone, his hair a mess, and his lips slightly parted as he caught his breath.
Beside him, the blonde young girl tanned, wild, and probably still buzzed from the cocktails at the bar curled against his side like a satisfied kitten. She let out a breathy laugh and dragged a finger down his chest.
"Mmm… worth every swipe," she whispered.
Ethan smirked, his voice low and lazy. "Dating app's good to me."
He had picked her up in less than fifteen minutes. The app did half the work. Her eyes did the rest. The moment she'd walked into the bar in that backless dress, Ethan knew exactly how the night would end.
He always knew.
That was the thing about Ethan he didn't do romance.But he did do heat. Passion. Bodies tangling in silk sheets for a night of fast, wordless pleasure.No promises. No names in the morning.Just breathless release, a good drink, and the silence that followed.
Tonight was no different.
He had specifically booked the resort's most discreet VIP suite, far from the regular guest rooms. No staff, no noise, no questions. Just privacy and enough room for all the chaos he wanted to create.
And now, it was over. Just like that.
The woman beside him stretched with a satisfied moan. "So... you gonna call me?"
Ethan chuckled and glanced at her, eyes half-lidded. "Probably..."
She pouted playfully, then kissed his shoulder. "Didn't think so."
As she disappeared into the bathroom, Ethan stepped out onto the private balcony. The night air was warm and thick, laced with the scent of salt and frangipani. From up there, Phuket glittered seductive, chaotic, alive. He took a drag, exhaled slowly, and leaned on the railing.
Ethan didn't say goodbye.
He rarely did.
The blonde was still in the shower when he pulled on his shirt, grabbed his keys, and slipped out of the VIP suite like he'd never been there. She'd wake up to a view, a hangover, and a complimentary breakfast on the house, of course. Perks of being his one-night stand.
After all, he didn't need to worry about reservations. The De Haven Phuket was practically his playground. His father owned the entire chain though these days, the old man preferred sipping wine and tending to his vineyards in Melbourne.
That left Ethan in charge of this little corner of paradise. Or at least, pretending to be.
The valet greeted him in the underground parking like he was royalty. Ethan didn't even glance up as his car a sleek black luxury SUV was pulled around.
He slipped behind the wheel, let the engine purr to life, and drove out into the humid Phuket night, windows down, music low.
Twenty minutes. That's how long it usually took him to reach his private villa perched in the hills, where the air was quieter, the lights softer, and no one asked questions.
Halfway there, his phone lit up on the dashboard.
Incoming Call: Jack OliverHe raised an eyebrow and tapped the screen to connect it through the car's speaker.
"Jack," he drawled. "Long time."
"Too long," Jack replied, his voice clear but mellow, the kind of tone that came from wine and late nights. "You're still in Phuket, yeah?"
Ethan smirked. "Where else would I be?"
"Good. I just landed a major project out there luxury villa development. It's big. Like… big-big. I'll be flying in next week."
"Well, well," Ethan leaned back, one hand on the wheel. "Mr. Architect makes his tropical debut."
Jack laughed. "Thought I'd give heat and chaos a try for once."
"You'll sweat through your blazer in five minutes."
"I won't be wearing one."
"Then it really is serious," Ethan chuckled.
They had met in university different majors, same recklessness. Ethan studied business. Jack studied architecture. What bonded them was their mutual love for risk, women, and whiskey. A decade later, not much had changed.
"Well," Ethan continued, "when you get here, call me. I'll show you the side of Phuket they don't put in brochures."
Jack's voice turned dry. "That sounds illegal."
"It's not. Mostly."
Jack chuckled again. "See you soon, man."
The call ended, and Ethan's smile lingered as he turned off the main road toward his villa gate.
The villa was quiet. Too quiet.
Ethan stepped inside, loosened his shirt collar, and tossed his keys onto the marble counter. The lights came on automatically, casting a warm glow over the sleek, minimal interior glass walls, dark wood floors, and the faint scent of expensive cologne still lingering in the air.
It was beautiful. Stylish. Completely lifeless.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey no ice and walked out to the terrace. The view was stunning as always: the hills below lit with the soft sparkle of night, the sea just barely visible in the dark, breathing in and out like a sleeping beast.
He stood there for a while, drink in hand, not really tasting it.
And then, without warning, it hit him.
Two years ago. Sydney.
Back then, everything felt sharper brighter. The city, the people, the long nights and endless ambition. Ethan and Jack had a solid job. Jack was always there. His closest friend. His anchor in the chaos.
And then came Sophie.
She had walked into Ethan's life like a breeze on a summer day. Intelligent. Grounded. A rare kind of soft that didn't fade under pressure. They connected instantly late-night coffees, rooftop talks, books exchanged like secrets.
Ethan thought maybe, this is it.
But it wasn't.
Because the more he fell, the clearer it became… Sophie's heart belonged to someone else.To Jack.
And Jack? He never knew. Or maybe he did, but chose to pretend he didn't.
Either way, Ethan had been forced to step back with a smile, of course. Always with a smile.
A month later, he quit. Packed his life into silence and sunblock, and moved to Phuket under the pretense of "business." Jack and Sophie thought it was for a better opportunity. No one knew it was just easier to breathe away from her.
Now, two years later, Jack was flying in.And Ethan… still didn't know if Sophie was his.
Or still his.
He ran a hand through his hair and set the whiskey down. The night was warm, but something inside him had turned cold. That familiar ache, the one he'd buried under women, work, and hotel walls it was back.
He hated it.
And yet…
He missed her.
Her voice. Her laugh. The way she used to roll her eyes when he flirted too much, and smile anyway.
Ethan exhaled slowly and leaned over the balcony, watching the stars flicker above the hills. There was nothing he could do about the past.
But if Jack came to Phuket bringing memories…Maybe Sophie wasn't too far behind.