CHAPTER SIX — LINES AND BOUNDARIES
1169 Words
If there was one thing Yoko hated more than impossible deadlines, it was team-building events.
Unfortunately, Malhotra Luxury Group loved them.
Which was how she found herself at 7:45 a.m. on a Saturday morning, standing in front of a lakeside resort outside Bangkok wearing a company polo shirt and a name tag like an overgrown schoolchild.
“Corporate bonding,” she muttered darkly. “Another word for organized suffering.”
Around her, employees stretched, laughed, and pretended to be excited about trust exercises.
Yoko, meanwhile, searched for the nearest exit.
“Good. You’re here.”
She turned.
Faye Malhotra stood behind her looking annoyingly fresh for someone who probably slept five hours a night.
“How could I miss this?” Yoko replied. “I live for activities that involve fake enthusiasm.”
Faye gave her a cool look. “Try to behave.”
“Try to relax.”
Their eyes met.
The weekend had officially begun.
The schedule was a nightmare.
Icebreakers.
Group games.
Team challenges.
At 9:00 a.m., they were forced into something called “Human Knot.”
Yoko ended up tangled between two accountants and a very sweaty marketing intern.
“Who invented this torture?” she whispered.
“HR,” Faye replied dryly.
“I knew it.”
Somehow, through a miracle or sheer desperation, their team won.
Yoko raised her hands in victory. “See? Natural leader.”
“Don’t let it inflate your ego,” Faye said.
“Too late.”
By lunchtime, Yoko was exhausted, slightly sunburned, and deeply regretting every life decision that had led her here.
She sat at a picnic table scrolling through her phone when Faye approached with two bottles of water.
“Drink,” Faye ordered.
Yoko stared. “Are you… taking care of me?”
“I’m preventing heatstroke. Paperwork is harder with unconscious employees.”
“Ah. Romance is truly dead.”
Faye sat beside her.
Not across.
Beside.
Yoko tried not to notice.
“So,” she said casually, “do you actually enjoy these events?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because leadership means suffering publicly.”
Yoko laughed before she could stop herself.
The sound seemed to surprise both of them.
For a brief moment, they were just two tired women hiding from forced fun.
Not boss and assistant.
Not enemies at war.
Just… people.
That fragile peace lasted until the afternoon activity: paired kayaking.
“Absolutely not,” Faye said immediately.
“It’s on the schedule,” the coordinator chirped.
“I don’t kayak.”
“Everyone kayaks.”
Yoko grinned. “Looks like you kayak today.”
Faye turned to her slowly. “If this ends with me in the water, you’re fired.”
“Motivational as always.”
And that was how they ended up in a small yellow kayak together, floating on a peaceful lake under the blazing Thai sun.
Yoko sat in front.
Faye sat behind.
Which meant, unfortunately, they were very, very close.
“Left,” Faye commanded.
“I am paddling left.”
“Then paddle better.”
“You know, encouragement works wonders.”
“This is encouragement.”
Yoko rolled her eyes.
The kayak wobbled.
“Don’t move so much,” Faye warned.
“I’m literally trying not to die.”
Another wobble.
Then—
Splash.
Cold water rushed over the side as the kayak tipped just enough to drench them both.
Yoko gasped. “Oh my god!”
Faye froze, water dripping from her perfectly styled hair.
For a second, silence.
Then Yoko started laughing.
Hard.
“I told you,” she wheezed. “Nature hates you.”
Faye stared at her in disbelief. “You think this is funny?”
“A little, yes.”
“This blouse is designer.”
“And now it’s aquatic.”
Against all odds, Faye’s lips twitched.
“Insufferable,” she muttered.
But there was no real anger in it.
Only something lighter.
Later, back on dry land, they changed into spare clothes provided by the resort.
Yoko emerged first, hair still damp, wearing an oversized company hoodie.
Faye stepped out moments later, casual and unguarded in a simple white shirt.
Without the usual armor, she looked different.
Softer.
Younger, somehow.
Yoko realized she was staring.
She quickly looked away.
“Your hair’s a mess,” Faye said.
“So is yours.”
“I doubt that.”
“Want a mirror?”
Faye sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you keep me around.”
There it was again — that charged silence.
The line between them felt thinner than ever.
That evening, the company hosted a casual dinner by the lake.
String lights.
Soft music.
Warm breeze.
Yoko sat with coworkers, pretending not to notice Faye talking with executives across the lawn.
She told herself she didn’t care.
Then one of the managers leaned over.
“Hey, Yoko.”
“Yes?”
“What’s it like working for the Ice Queen?”
The table snickered.
Yoko stiffened. “She’s demanding.”
“That’s a polite way to say terrifying,” he laughed.
Another added, “I heard she made the last assistant cry.”
“Three of them,” someone else whispered.
They all laughed again.
Yoko forced a smile.
But something inside her twisted.
Because yes, Faye was difficult.
Yes, she was strict.
But hearing people talk about her like that felt… wrong.
Before she could stop herself, Yoko said:
“She’s tough because she cares about the company.”
The table went quiet.
“And she works harder than anyone here,” Yoko continued. “So maybe show a little respect.”
Awkward silence.
“Wow,” the manager muttered. “Didn’t know you were such a fan."
“I’m not,” Yoko replied quickly. “I just don’t like unfair gossip.”
Across the lawn, Faye watched the exchange without hearing a word.
But she saw enough.
Later, as the evening wound down, Faye found Yoko sitting alone near the water.
“You didn’t have to defend me,” she said quietly.
Yoko jumped. “You heard that?”
“Not the words. The intention.”
“Oh.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“I didn’t do it for you,” Yoko said finally. “I just hate rude people.”
Faye almost smiled.
“Still,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
It was the gentlest she had ever sounded.
Yoko’s chest tightened.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
On the bus ride back to Bangkok, they sat side by side.
Too close again.
Faye fell asleep first, head tilting slightly toward Yoko’s shoulder.
Yoko froze.
She should move.
She definitely should move.
Instead, she stayed perfectly still, heart beating far too fast.
Outside the window, city lights blurred past.
And in that quiet, unexpected moment, Yoko realized something she absolutely did not want to admit.
The hate was fading.
And something far more complicated was quietly taking its place.
- Writer
