"Y-yeah," I answered haltingly after a moment of staring blankly upon hearing his question. If no one else were in this car, I probably would have ignored it. Asking whether I slept well last night was an unnecessary question. Shouldn't he be asking about things related to today's event instead? His question only made me feel uneasy.
"I heard our schedule today is going to be very packed," said the woman sitting beside me. We had just introduced ourselves earlier, but I had completely forgotten her name. It must be because of Damar sitting next to me, making it hard for me to concentrate.
"Really?" I replied.
"That's why I ate more for breakfast," she said with a chuckle. Breakfast? I even skipped mine this morning. How could I think of breakfast when I was already feeling tense about this event?
I glanced at Damar for a moment—maybe he had already eaten earlier and just let me wait for him in the lobby. It was my fault for rushing when I actually had plenty of time.
Damar's head leaned slightly toward me, making me frown. Sitting beside him like this was already uncomfortable, let alone having him move even closer.
"Don't worry, I bought some bread last night. You can eat it when we get out later," he whispered.
My eyes blinked rapidly before I turned to look at him. I clearly heard what he just said, but I still found it hard to believe.
"Or do you want to eat now?" he asked when he saw me looking at him.
"No, later," I refused, my face heating up. What was wrong with me? Just being offered bread made me this flustered. And… this guy was strange too. Why would he offer me bread? Acting all considerate like that. If he really bought bread, he should just eat it himself.
It didn't take long for us to arrive at Niachemical Singapore's building, which turned out to be in the city center. Each Niachemical branch in different countries had a different company name, but Singapore was one of the few that retained the Niachemical name.
I quickly got out of the car after Damar stepped out first. My laptop was still in his hands, and I had no intention of asking for it. Niachemical Singapore was in a high-rise building, with most of its floors used as office spaces. The company itself occupied five floors in this building, far more than Global Kimia.
I stood there for a moment, unsure of where to go, especially since this was my first time here. Then suddenly, someone gently pulled my hand.
"This way," Damar said as he walked beside me. Keeping a neutral expression, he guided me toward the elevator, where a long queue of people had already formed. With the access pass we received from the information desk earlier, Damar and I were able to enter the building's lobby area.
Our arrival coincided with the start of office hours, so we had to wait patiently for our turn to enter the elevator. My eyes widened when I saw Damar holding out a pack of bread toward me. He didn't say anything—his body language alone told me that he wanted me to eat it.
Pride, awkwardness, and confusion held me back for a few moments. But my empty stomach, caused by skipping breakfast, urged me to accept it. With hesitant hands, I unwrapped the bread. The chocolate-flavored bread was soft as I took a bite. This was my first time eating bread in front of a crowd waiting for an elevator. It was a bit embarrassing, but my hunger outweighed my self-consciousness, making me finish the bread quickly.
I cleared my throat lightly after finishing my bread, and just at that moment, the elevator doors reopened, causing my body to be pushed forward by the crowd behind me eager to get in.
A firm arm caught me and pulled me to the side, preventing me from being pushed further. The elevator doors closed right in front of me. I had never experienced such a crowded elevator queue before.
My face felt warm again when I glanced at the arm now resting on my shoulder. I didn't even dare look at his face. From the start, he had only made me feel awkward. I was annoyed that he acted so considerate toward me, yet at the same time, I felt embarrassed for being so clumsy in front of him.
When the elevator doors opened again, Damar gently pulled my hand, and we finally got inside. He still didn't say anything, while my head was filled with countless unanswered questions.
The elevator took us to the twelfth floor, where the first and second days of the Sales Annual Meeting would take place. On the last day, the event would be held at a five-star hotel.
I heard conversations in various languages as Damar and I entered a large conference room on the twelfth floor. In this kind of situation, I didn't know why, but I felt heavily reliant on Damar. Perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment and the unfamiliar people around me.
Damar and I were assigned seats at the front. While waiting for the event to begin, I turned on my laptop, which he had placed on the table. The agenda for the first day included sales report presentations for niacinamide from each branch.
"For these three days, I really hope we can work well together," Damar said once my laptop screen lit up. I blinked and turned to him. Wasn't that what I was already doing? Since yesterday, I had been trying to cooperate with him. If not, why would I even agree to come here with him? So… what kind of cooperation was he expecting?
"So… forget your annoyance with me for now," he added. His words actually made me want to laugh. Who did he think he was, asking me to forget my irritation? Did he think it was that easy?
"Only three days," he emphasized. When I glanced at him again, his face looked serious.
"Alright," I replied, shifting my gaze away from him. Even though it wouldn't be easy, he had a point. For these three days, I would be relying on him a lot. Fine, I would compromise on this matter.
In an instant, the large conference room filled with people from various Niachemical branches across Southeast Asia. I felt proud to be here among these selected individuals.
For a brief moment, the thought of being just a backup choice crossed my mind again. But I no longer cared if that was the truth. Didn't it mean that even as a backup, luck was still on my side?
"Show me the material I'll be presenting later," Damar requested. I nodded slightly and slid my laptop toward him after opening the presentation file. Finding the presentation file was an easy task, yet Damar seemed to deliberately ask me to do it.
"Change this number," he said, pointing at the screen.
"But this is the Global Kimia sales data up to the end of last year," I said, frowning.
"That's not what's needed. The data should be updated to early this year," he replied. Even though I still wanted to argue, I followed his instructions and corrected the figures he pointed at. Damar then showed me his phone, and I retyped the numbers according to the updated data.
There weren't many numbers to type, but for some reason, I just couldn't concentrate. Was it because Damar's shoulder was touching mine? Or the scent of his cologne lingering in my breath?
"Can't you type properly?" His words startled me.
"The numbers on my phone and the ones you typed are completely different," he added.
I should have immediately corrected my mistake, but instead, I turned to look at him with a confused face. My mind was blank, and I couldn't say anything in response.
Come on, Bulan. It hasn't even been three days, so why are you acting so foolish already?
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, Singapore's skyline shimmered in the morning haze, a glittering backdrop to my internal crisis. The glass reflected our distorted images—Damar's broad shoulders angled toward me, my own hunched posture screaming discomfort. His reflection met mine in the window, and for one terrifying second, I thought he might smile. Instead, he reached past me to grab a napkin, his sleeve brushing my forearm as he blotted my coffee spill with infuriating precision.
Damar's eyes suddenly narrowed as he stared at me without blinking. I had never really looked at his face before, but now I was forced to because of his piercing gaze. His hand reached out and touched the corner of my lips. Wait… what was he doing?
The bread turned to ash in my mouth as Damar's fingers brushed my lips. Time slowed—the hum of conference chatter faded, the glare of projector lights dimmed—until all that existed was the rough pad of his thumb scraping against the corner of my mouth. A shiver raced down my spine, unrelated to the aggressive air conditioning blasting through the venue. I should've pulled away. I should've slapped his hand. Instead, I sat frozen, my traitorous pulse hammering against my ribs.
"There's some chocolate left on your lips," he said, wiping it away.(*)