Guilty as Gorgeous | Chapter 18
"You swim like a fish, Paan."
The corner of his mouth twitched into a ghost of a smirk—his version of a greeting. Up close under the brilliant pool lights, Phutphitchaya saw that his eyes were a striking, shimmering silver-grey. Their sharp, commanding intensity made him look formidable—an intoxicatingly dangerous blend that would be far too stimulating for anyone with a penchant for bad boys.
The muscle in her chest hammered harder than her recent exertion could account for. It wasn't a good sign. He shouldn't look this devastatingly hot, especially when he was anything but a good man. Or was he?
"You didn't follow me down here, did you?"
Her question drew a dry chuckle from him.
"If I'd known you were coming here, I probably would have, out of pure lack of self-control. But don't be so paranoid, Hottie. I had no idea you were coming for a swim."
Being called 'Hottie' sent a flare of heat to her cheeks.
She tried to ignore him, pulling her goggles down to shield her eyes, intending to swim another lap as if he didn't exist. But a large hand reached out, its fingers closing around her slender upper arm. Like a tigress provoked, she ripped her goggles off and whipped around to lock eyes with him.
"What exactly do you want from me!?"
"If I told you exactly what I 'want' to do with you, Paan, you'd only get angry."
Her lashes fluttered as she took a few seconds to decode the double entendre. When the realization hit, her cheeks flushed a deeper crimson—this time, from pure, unadulterated fury.
"Are you being lewd on purpose?"
"Don't be so self-centered with your interpretations. I just wanted to apologize for being a bit too impatient earlier."
Her anger shifted into bewilderment. She hadn't expected this move from him. But her mind, spinning at high speed, told her to seize the opportunity rather than turn away. Some forms of pride simply weren't edible.
"I might accept your apology…"
"If?" The corner of his well-defined mouth curved upward.
"If you let us return the check without any cancellation fee."
"I never wanted your money anyway. Consider it done."
He conceded so easily that Phutphitchaya blinked in disbelief. Still, she felt she shouldn't have to pay a fine in the first place; it wasn't her fault.
"You didn't really want me as a brand spokesperson, did you?"
"I don't mix business with my pursuit of a woman—not if the cost outweighs the benefit."
Typical merchant... She scoffed internally, though the sentiment was written plainly across her face.
"Others would be much more suitable than me."
"Is that another proposal?"
"Do you want my opinion?"
"Go ahead. You have plenty of friends in the industry. You must know someone with the right look for a luxury car brand ambassador."
"You might think she's not a fit because she isn't as famous as she used to be."
"You mean Wansachon?" Panthakant studied her intently. "Her image isn't exactly stellar. I've read the profile my people put together."
Phutphitchaya swallowed hard. He read her far too easily.
"I have my own share of scandals. You didn't seem to mind those."
"Rules are always flexible. That's the perk of being the owner."
She wanted to roll her eyes at his arrogant, lazy smile.
"She's a fine actress, but luck doesn't always favor the good. If you knew what Namfon had to endure, you wouldn't blame her... perk of being the owner, right?"
"A good owner has to assess risk. I have countless employees to look after. In this case, I don't see her image stimulating the brand or benefiting our marketing."
"Isn't brand building supposed to reflect a company's philosophy? Using marketing to create brand value?"
Panthakant smiled. "And what are you trying to tell me, Paan?"
"I've heard that DP Group doesn't just aim to sell everyday goods, but also sees itself as having a social mission. Principles like good governance and giving back to society—it fits the philosophy perfectly."
His strong jaw tightened. He knew that wasn't a compliment. Yet, he was pleased she had bothered to read up on DP Group's mission and vision.
"Building a good corporate image is a long-term investment, sweetheart. It's worth more than money."
The actress snapped her fingers, flashing her most charming, calculated smile.
"That's exactly my point. Hiring a star to sit there like a mere car-show girl to sell performance and luxury is uninspired. The brand sells itself. I'm sure you'd rather sell the brand's values to reinforce its identity. And Namfon... she can give you that."
"I didn't realize you understood marketing and advertising so well."
"I'm just parroting what I've heard others say."
She let out a heavy sigh. This was as much as she could do.
"I'll take it into consideration."
It was a polite rejection. She caught it instantly and felt the urge to pout.
"I understand." Her brown eyes clouded with irritation. She glanced down at his large hand, which still hadn't released her arm, as a silent warning. She was done playing nice.
Panthakant released her soft skin with a look of mild amusement, resting his arm casually on the pool's edge. It was a simple gesture, yet undeniably magnetic. Combined with his powerful physique and the lean muscle she could see above the water—she refused to look any lower—she begrudgingly concluded that if he ever decided to sell men's apparel or swimwear, he wouldn't need to beg for top-tier models.
"If that's all, I'm going to continue my swim."
"No one else to suggest, darling?"
"You've already decided she's not a fit. If you're looking for someone with an image that matches your luxury cars, there's always Nisakorn."
She snapped back without thinking, then immediately bit her tongue when she saw the strange look in his eyes.
"Nisakorn isn't a fit. The model we're selling is a sports car. The woman who drives it... must make a man want to buy the car for her."
The actress didn't know if that was a compliment, but she couldn't stop her face from flushing. She gave him a haughty sidelong glance.
"We actresses are trained to handle any role. All you have to do is tell the production what you want. Good advertising can make a product famous even if the spokesperson is just a vessel for the message. You wouldn't even have to waste money on expensive talent."
Panthakant fell silent for several seconds before flashing a look of genuine admiration that made her heart skip a beat.
"You're right, Hottie. I was a fool to overlook that."
She nodded and prepared to push off, but remembered one last thing.
"Why don't you reconsider switching suppliers from Mr. Anavil back to Sia Maitree?"
Panthakant's expression shifted from pleasant to something else entirely at the question.
"What is he to you?"
"Mr. Anavil is kind enough to call me a friend, though we're more like acquaintances... I worked for him once."
"An acquaintance wouldn't care this much."
"I just feel for him because he's a good man. As for your other business associate... he's the opposite."
"I assume you have reasons to back up that claim?"
Phutphitchaya gritted her teeth. Her rage always surged out of control whenever she thought of that lecherous old man.
"He's a lecher, a rapist, a blackmailer. A low-life who destroyed a woman's life until there was nothing left. His humanity is in the negatives. No one should associate with him, let alone take him on as a business partner or have anything to do with him."
Her fierce denunciation ended in a heavy silence from both sides.
She yanked her goggles down and lunged into the center of the pool, swimming lap after lap to vent her boiling emotions until she was gasping for air.