Masters of the Hurricane

Part III

"As I was saying...the investment funding would be channeled into compartment pockets." Apo spoke as he held onto his chopsticks as they'd ordered both Thai and Italian since Apo chose Thai and Mile, in a move to contradict him, picked Italian. That prompted Apo wanting to smack the man for wasting his time with asinine questions in the first place, only to step into Mile's office to see the man waving around the contract in question. Apo conceded the round to his opponent purely because he was hungry, and the contract was important. His head lifted from his bowl of fried rice to deadpan at Mile just absentmindedly staring at him, "Are you paying attention?"

"Raptly," Mile remarked, "I never interrupt when someone's speaking. Why? Am I making you nervous, Apo?"

"No. It's just not something I'm used to," Apo gave a brief shrug, "As successful as I am, I still have people try to look down on me."

Mile shook his head vehemently, "Not me. I respect you." He saw Apo's eyebrow raise and continued. "As an opponent remember?"

Apo snorted as he sat back in the chair he'd chosen as his own to be comfortable in. He set the chopsticks down and crossed his legs, folded his hands in his lap, and he tilted his head to the side. "I normally have back-and-forth conversations with my business partners so, yes, you're still an opponent until we have a clear chat."

"I'm not just another business partner, Apo." Mile commented as he took a bite of his pasta with a contented hum before reaching for the contract to hold it up and point blindly at a line as his focus was on the man in front of him. "According to this, you're looking for an investment of ฿100M for the housing project and the area is a prominent place for the nouveau riche, that doesn't make me any random on your contact list." He remarked at Apo's glazed over expression of impression at Mile's working knowledge of the project area. It was clear he was knowledgeable and not just dismissive. "Like I said, I looked it over thoroughly, and there are small notations I wanted to be clear about."

"Then why were you letting me ramble on?" Apo grumbled to Mile. "You're sitting there and just staring. I know I'm a good-looking man and an intelligent one, I need you to speak not just look as if I'm not making any sense."

Mile's lips upturned into a quirky smile this time, dimples dipped in his cheeks, "If I told you that you have a very nice voice, would you get mad at me?"

"Yes."

"Haha," The other man's shoulders shook at Apo's honesty. Mile scooped up another mouthful of pasta, and groaned at the flavors. "You're missing out not getting Italian, Apo."

"I'm very traditional," Apo clicked his tongue, "I enjoy diversifying locally instead of going abroad."

Mile wrinkled his nose, "I studied abroad in Milan. This reminds me of that time. I wish I could go back to it. Less responsibilities...more fun."

"We're not all afforded the luxury to study abroad..." Apo realized he'd overshared for a moment then shook his head and just crossed his arms, as he felt the hour of his time, he'd said he'd give Mile was wasted. "We're going round in circles. What is it that you want from me? It's clearly not business because you're not taking me seriously."

"Apo—"

"I said it before and I'll say it again." Apo's eyes flashed so fiercely that Mile was taken aback a moment. "If you're not worth the effort, I won't give chase." He waved his hands around the room. "I came to you and called you. Now we're talking about your university days like old friends."

Mile would put down his fork, held up his hands in a motion of defeat. "I was trying to make you comfortable with small talk. You seemed really wound up when you came in here." Mile's features relaxed. "How important is this housing project to you, Apo?"