CONFLICT OF INTERESTS

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CHAPTER TWO: BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

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The tempered glass of Smart’s office reflected the gray dawn over the skyscrapers. It was barely seven in the morning, but he had already spent two hours reviewing the financial appendices of the bid. His tie was perfectly knotted and his desk immaculate, although the half-finished cup of black coffee gave away that the night had granted him no more than four hours of intermittent sleep.
Every time he turned a page of the report, the rustle of the paper seemed to remind him of the texture of Boom’s suit jacket beneath his fingers and the coldness of the car’s metal against their backs in the basement.
Smart clenched his jaw, closed the folder with a sharp movement, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Professionalism above all. What had happened last night had been nothing more than a release of pressure. A predictable consequence of months of accumulated hostility.
Two sharp knocks on the solid wooden door broke the silence.
—Come in —Smart said in his usual neutral, distant tone, without looking up from the screen of his tablet.
The door opened and closed, the latch passing almost inaudibly. The sound of firm footsteps crossed the carpet before the scent of wood and bergamot gave away the intruder’s presence before he said a single word.
Smart raised his gaze, keeping his expression impassive.
Boom stood in front of his desk, wearing a tailored charcoal-gray suit and a dark coat he had just taken off and was holding over one arm. His hair was styled with impeccable precision, but his lips still carried a slightly flushed tone that did not go unnoticed by Smart.
—I don’t have an appointment with you on my schedule until Monday, Raveewit —Smart said, leaning back in his chair without losing his composure.
—I don’t need an appointment to deliver some documents that require your attention before Monday’s meeting —Boom replied in a measured voice, taking two more steps until he stood at the edge of the desk.
He dropped a thin folder onto the polished wood. However, he did not remove his hand; he rested his knuckles on the surface, leaning slightly forward to shorten the distance between them. His gaze slowly traveled over Smart’s face, pausing for barely a second on his mouth before returning to his eyes.
—You look tired, Director. Did you sleep badly?
Smart did not look away. He met the provocation with calculated coldness, although his pulse began to quicken beneath the stiff collar of his shirt.
—I slept enough to check that your clauses don’t contain any traps.
—Always so distrustful —Boom murmured, a hint of dangerous amusement in his voice. He walked around the desk with slow steps, without asking permission, until he was only a few inches from the side of Smart’s chair—. You should learn to relax a little before Monday. All that built-up tension is clouding your judgment.
Smart slowly turned his chair to face him directly, trapped between Boom’s imposing presence and the leather backrest.
—The only one risking his judgment here is you, walking into my office with the door closed before the other directors arrive.
Boom let out a low, almost inaudible laugh and leaned his torso downward, placing one hand on the armrest of Smart’s chair, cornering him with suffocating proximity. His warm breath brushed the corner of Smart’s lips as he spoke, lowering his voice to an intimate whisper:
—No one has arrived yet, Chisanupong. And we both know you didn’t come early for the numbers.
Smart did not hesitate.
In one quick, precise movement, he caught Boom by the wrist that rested on the armrest, rose with imposing force, and pushed him backward before he had time to react. Boom’s body hit the dark wood-paneled wall, right beside the half-open blinds.
A surprised gasp escaped Boom’s throat, but the surprise transformed into a flash of pure adrenaline when Smart closed the remaining distance, planting a firm hand against the wall beside his head and pinning him there with his own body.
—You think you’re in control of this game just because you dare to walk through my door —Smart murmured, his voice low, hoarse, and charged with overwhelming authority—. Don’t get it wrong, Raveewit. I know exactly why you came.
Boom tilted his head, his breathing immediately quickening as he felt the heat of Smart’s body against his own. Far from backing away, he placed his palm against Smart’s chest, feeling the frantic heartbeat beneath the thin shirt.
—Then prove it —Boom challenged in a heated whisper, brushing his lips barely a few millimeters from his—. Do something about it.
Smart lowered his gaze to Boom’s parted mouth, his fingers tightening on the fabric of the other man’s jacket, ready to shatter whatever remained of professional decorum in that very corner.
Knock, knock.
The sudden sound of two knocks on the outer door fell like a bucket of ice-cold water.
—Mr. Chisanupong? —the executive assistant’s voice echoed from the hallway, followed by the sound of the doorknob trying to turn—. I brought you the coffee and the preliminary report you requested.
The locked latch prevented the door from opening, but the mechanism gave way just enough to warn them that they were not alone.
For a fraction of a second, neither of them moved. Their breathing faltered in the dimness of the office, Smart’s eyes locked onto Boom’s with suffocating intensity, promising everything the interruption had just frozen.
Smart was the first to react. With almost surgical discipline, he released Boom and took two steps backward, adjusting his tie and running a firm hand over his jacket.
—One moment, please —Smart replied in a perfectly cold, neutral voice, without a trace of the agitation from five seconds earlier.
Boom remained leaning against the wall for another moment, exhaling a low, bitter laugh as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, savoring their shared frustration. Slowly, he smoothed the lapel of his gray suit and walked toward the center of the office, adopting his impeccable executive posture.
Smart unlocked the door and opened it.
—Come in, leave it on the table —he instructed the assistant with absolute calm, while she entered carrying the tray, visibly surprised to notice Boom there so early in the morning.
—Director Raveewit, I didn’t know you were here —the woman said, bowing her head politely.
—Just a routine delivery before Monday’s meeting —Boom replied with his best diplomatic smile, picking up his coat from the back of the chair. Before crossing the doorway into the hallway, he stopped beside Smart and glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a dark, teasing glint in his gaze—. Have a very productive day, Mr. Chisanupong.
Smart held his gaze with an impassive expression, but his jaw was clenched.
—See you at the negotiating table, Raveewit.