Guilty as Gorgeous | Chapter 17
Phutphitchaya slipped out of her room that night to call her manager after settling her mother and sister for dinner, bringing along a sports bag for the pool. Wikrant's voice sounded as jubilant as if he had just dragged a prime specimen of a man out of a club for a feast after a month-long drought.
"Hellloooo… I thought you'd never turn your phone back on."
"I was in the water, and you know I'm on leave," she replied with a languid tone. Despite having kept her phone off, she had spent her time staring at the sea from the shore, letting the person who loved making executive decisions on her behalf stew in their own anxiety for a bit.
"I've carried out your royal command," Wikrant said, his voice dropping an octave. "But their advertising manager won't budge. He said we already gave our word and going back on it now is utterly unprofessional."
"Not 'we.' Only you."
"I know I was short-sighted, but I did it because I wanted you to have a solid income—to pay back that Sia, or to clear the balance on P'Moke." P'Moke referred to the white Audi she drove but hadn't fully paid off. "Besides, someone of Mr. Wes's stature wouldn't have the time to sit and watch a woman work just to make her feel suffocated."
"I don't think he would, but I'm still not taking this job regardless."
"Then I'll just have to let him deduct the cancellation fee." The manager's voice sounded as dejected as if Thailand had just lost its sovereignty for the second time in the 21st century.
"The… what!?" The onscreen villainess hissed through her throat.
"He said that once the deposit check is issued and you refuse to work as promised, they'll deduct ten percent of the check as an administrative fee. I didn't think you'd be this stubborn, so I signed the consent when I took the check."
"What! Have you lost your mind? Signing such a disadvantageous clause before even seeing the contract!"
"Who says I didn't see it?" the speaker grumbled petulantly. "There were two contracts—mine and yours. I signed my part this morning before you even walked in."
Phutphitchaya breathed heavily, feeling a ringing in her ears and a sudden vertigo as if she were suffering from Meniere's disease. It finally clicked why this meddling manager was trying so hard to persuade her with a thousand reasons. "It's only been a day. What kind of insane company rushes a contract like that?"
"Word is they've been searching for the right star for this campaign for ages, but Mr. Wes never liked anyone. Once his boss called about you, they were ecstatic, calling me in for a meeting immediately. After we settled on the price, I called the higher-ups to get you the urgent slot. They asked me to sign the conditions because the shoot is in three days," Wikrant explained in a long, breathless string.
The young woman tried to control her breathing in disbelief.
Ten percent of that check might not be beyond the means of an actress as busy as she was, but it meant she'd have to hustle through extra events, wasting days when her existing schedule was already packed to the brim. It simply wasn't worth it.
"I see."
"Does that mean you've changed your mind and you're taking the job!?" Wikrant asked, his voice spiking with excitement before dropping 120 percent when she remained silent. "If you're sticking to your guns, I'll go pay the fine for him."
"Meaning you're taking responsibility for the damages?"
"Well, it was my fault, wasn't it?"
She let out a massive sigh, as if a new historical record had just been discovered proving that Ayutthaya had actually fallen four times. "Honestly, even though the money is good, I wanted you to take this job for another reason."
"The reason being you want me to seduce the man Nisakorn has her eyes on?"
"That's just a by-product," he admitted candidly, the dramatic flair taking over. "But the real reason is I want you to have a proper boyfriend for once. Your scandals are piling up because that couple won't quit, and the network executives are starting to complain. I don't see anyone better suited to be your protector than Mr. Wes."
Phutphitchaya rolled her eyes, catching on to her manager's 'fight fire with fire' strategy against the rival actress.
Wikrant wanted her to exact revenge on Nisakorn by snatching the man she desired. He wanted to use him as a shield against the damaging rumors, especially the one about her being a businessman's mistress. Even if no media outlet dared use her real name for fear of a lawsuit, the initials in gossip columns, combined with word-of-mouth whispers and relentless cyber-smearing, were like water dripping on a stone. Most fans might still love her, but some were beginning to look at her through a different lens.
Social networks had stripped many people of their ability to filter information. A portion of the public liked and shared everything they saw mindlessly. Recipients believed everything they were fed and passed it on, creating a wide-reaching perception that multiplied rapidly. It could turn someone into a hero or a social pariah overnight. Many exploited this herd behavior to manufacture drama, rumors, and fake news for their own gain—mostly to keep a 'target' being talked about and remains in the public consciousness.
The result was a steady stream of work and events because people were interested. She understood the mechanics of the media and social platforms all too well, but years in the industry had built an immunity that left her largely unaffected by these scandals.
"You're dreaming without looking at the facts. Your precious Mr. Wes thought I was doing 'special work' at his friend's house, so he laid hands on me because he thought I was that kind of woman. A decent man doesn't do that to a woman he'd choose as the mother of his children. Especially since he's linked with Nisakorn—that girl would tear me to shreds. In that man's eyes… I'm not even worth claiming as a girlfriend."
"You're also overthinking it. Why not try opening your heart to someone instead of acting like a nun?"
"I'm not closing myself off," she said sharply. "That's enough for now, Wan."
"Wait, what about the job?"
"I'm not doing it. But I'll help you pay half the fine—just this once."
She hung up on Wikrant and tucked her phone into the gym bag. She scanned the hotel pool, seeing only a few people—a family. She stood up and shrugged off her robe, revealing a toned, curvaceous figure in a two-piece sporty swimsuit before diving into the pool to burn off her excess frustration.
She swam laps without a break until her breath came in short gasps. Finally, she reached for the edge of the pool, pulling off her goggles and wiping her face. She jolted slightly as she saw the large frame of a man suddenly surface and grip the same edge. From the corner of her eye, she saw the water surge violently less than two meters away, and she turned to look.