Guilty as Gorgeous | Chapter 20
Only after escaping him did the young woman realize she had left her bag in Panthakant's locker.
Aside from her swimsuit, towel, and a small makeup kit, it contained her mobile phone—the one thing she needed more than anything else, as it held a wealth of critical information. She stood hesitantly in front of her room door, debating her next move.
"Where have you been, P'Paan?"
Suphanniga, who had opened the door after hearing footsteps stop abruptly outside, asked in surprise. She noted her sister's flushed face and suspicious, disoriented expression.
"Just a stroll on the beach."
"I thought you went for a swim? I kept calling but you didn't pick up, so I was just about to head down and look for you."
"Can you do me a favor, Mai?" The actress cleared her throat. "My phone is in the bag I left with him. I forgot to grab it, so I missed your calls."
"Left it with who?"
"Mr. Panthakant." As soon as she said it, she pointed a warning finger at her sister, whose eyes had instantly begun to sparkle. "Don't you dare say a word or ask a single thing. It's not what you think. I just needed to borrow his locker key at the pool. Just go get my bag back, that's all."
"And where exactly is this Mr. Panthakant?"
"I don't know. The beach, probably."
She played the part of the indifferent sister perfectly—a benefit of her profession—before narrowing her eyes at the young girl, who was now wearing a knowing, mischievous smirk.
She could lie to anyone in the house, especially her mother or her second sister, but her youngest sibling was shrewder and more cunning than the rest. Mai was observant to a fault, always picking up on the tiniest inconsistencies.
Like right now, as she stared intently at her sister's lips. Phutphitchaya had to force herself not to reach up and touch them, though she was certain they were swollen, still feeling the lingering heat, the throb, and the tingle of the encounter.
"Fine, I'll go. But tomorrow, you're treating me to a massive lunch on the way back."
"Aren't I supposed to be the one treating you anyway?"
"And let me drive P'Moke back to Bangkok too."
P'Moke was the white Audi sports car, named by the three sisters after a family flower.
"You've had your license for less than two weeks, Mai. I told you I'd let you drive it once you've reached the six-month mark."
"But I've done twenty hours of driving lessons! I aced both the theory and practical exams. Plus, I've driven P'Nang Yaem to the market with Mom four times now. My reverse parking is so perfect Mom's practically beaming."
She was referring to the semi-aged white Nissan used for grocery runs, general errands, and taking their mother to the temple. Her dark, sparkling eyes shifted into a pleading look, like a fat cat begging for a treat.
"I promise I won't go over a hundred and twenty. I'll be extra careful since Mom will be in the car."
Which meant that if their mother wasn't there, the little devil might hit a hundred and sixty, just like the few times Phutphitchaya had taken her out to the countryside to gauge her progress outside of driving school.
"Fine," she conceded reluctantly. She was rewarded with an excited embrace and a squinty-eyed grin. She pushed her sister away with a look of weary affection. "Go on then. You're far too much."
"P'Paan is the most gorgeous, kindest person in the world! I'll be back before you know it."
With that compliment, she sauntered out of the room with the dramatic flair of a ballroom dancer spreading her wings.
"And don't go talking his ear off!"
"Oh please! I wouldn't dare. His eyes are as sharp as a Gillette razor. I'll be right back!"
The girl giggled, sweeping one arm low and raising the other in a theatrical finale pose, then bolted before Phutphitchaya could land a playful swat.
The actress watched her youngest sister go, unconcerned about her finding Panthakant. Beyond her knack for catching people out, Suphanniga knew exactly how to handle high-pressure situations. Her fearless, outgoing nature, her loyalty to friends, and her stellar grades had made her the vice president of the Volunteer and Rural Development Club, leading her peers to community outreach camps almost every semester break.
Phutphitchaya returned to the room, smiling at her mother, who had squinted her eyes open. Her mother was an early sleeper and had been out for a while.
"Go back to sleep, Mom. I'm just going to shower and head to bed."
"Where did your sister go, dear?"
"Down to get something for me. She'll be up in a moment."
"Good. I actually have something I need to discuss with you."
Prayong propped herself up, looking at her eldest daughter with a face full of tender concern, though she couldn't quite hide an underlying trace of anxiety.
"Is something wrong, Mom?"
"It's about Mr. Bancha, dear."
"Yes?" The slender woman sat on the edge of the bed, taking her mother's hand. "What about Uncle?"
"I think you should keep a bit more distance from him."
The young woman narrowed her eyes. "Did someone say something to upset you?"
"No, no one. I just don't want you to have a damaged reputation."
"You know those ugly rumors have no truth to them, Mom."
"I know, but others don't... people might look at my daughter in a bad way."
"Didn't you once tell me that it doesn't matter how others see us? As long as we do the right thing, we have nothing to fear."
"I'm just worried about his family as well."
"You know I never involve myself with his family." It was they, in fact, who were always harassing her, though she kept that to herself. "I only go to see him because he calls, or because he has work he needs my help with."
Prayong avoided her daughter's gaze and let out a soft sigh.
"I'm bringing this up because you're at an age now where if someone were to pursue you, I wouldn't want them to get the wrong idea. And the man himself wouldn't have to face criticism either."
"If you're talking about men, Mom, I don't have anyone."
She said it, yet her mind involuntarily flashed to the person she least wanted to think about right now.
"And if I did have someone and they were so gullible they believed the news over your own daughter, then I wouldn't choose a man like that to share my life with anyway. Uncle himself doesn't pay any mind to these nonsense rumors."
"You're right, Paan. I suppose I'm just worrying too much. Forgive me, dear."
"You have every right to advise me, Mom. If it makes you uneasy, I'll be more careful." She said this while watching her mother closely, noting the massive look of relief. "But you're sure... that no one said anything to bother you?"
She asked because the 'mistress' scandal wasn't new. While her mother never followed her to work-related events, she still heard news of her daughter from well-meaning neighbors—fans who would drop by to share gossip or order snacks, telling her mother this and that.
Prayong also knew very well what had happened two years ago.
The first time Manika's media outlets ran the story after the case ended and Methas got off scot-free, Wikrant had come to the house to explain everything to her mother himself. He had been a fixture in their riverside home since their student days, to the point where Prayong trusted him to look after her in everything.
"No one, dear. Go on, take your shower and get some sleep."
Though unconvinced by the answer, Phutphitchaya didn't want to press her mother further. She knew a much better way to get the truth.