Chapter 04
That day, Bisma invited Priska to join him on a field assignment. Sometimes they had to go out with other reporters and photographers. Bisma took the wheel, Priska sat in the front passenger seat, while Jonathan and Tika occupied the back. Their destination was a charity event hosted by a foundation, attended by many entrepreneurs and celebrities—a perfect occasion to fill one or two columns on the news site. Upon arrival, Priska and Bisma walked side by side, while Jo and Tika went off in different directions.
“Why do these people never seem to run out of money?” Bisma muttered as he adjusted his camera lens.
“Maybe for them it’s just candy money,” Priska replied.
“Not exactly, Pris. Did you read Tika’s article a few months ago? She interviewed a billionaire, and that’s when I learned they actually value money—no matter how small the amount,” Bisma said with a half-amused smile.
“Wow. I guess I’ve still got a lot to learn,” Priska murmured.
By chance, they arrived just as the auction began. In the spacious hall, a middle-aged man stood at the podium holding up a toy car and called out the starting bid. The battered little car quickly went for a high price. Priska couldn’t help admiring the generosity of the wealthy crowd—even if, perhaps, their motives were nothing more than showing off for publicity.
Bisma got busy taking photos, searching for the best angle to complement his article. Priska glanced at her phone; it was a little past nine. The sound of competing bids filled the room.
“All right! Ten million—sold to bidder number seven. Anyone willing to go higher?”
The room fell silent as the host began a countdown from three. A loud round of applause followed the gavel striking the podium. Another man rushed to the stage and whispered to the host.
“All proceeds are donated in the name of Indra Hendrawan. Thank you for your generosity.”
“Huh?” Priska’s eyes widened at the mention of Indra’s name.
She scanned the room and spotted him chatting with an elderly woman, seated among the donors ready to part with their wealth. She rubbed her temple in bewilderment. Who in their right mind could toss away money so easily?
Then Indra suddenly turned in her direction. Priska quickly lowered her hat to hide her face and slipped into the crowd, trying to avoid him. They had not been properly introduced, but there was already a rather embarrassing memory between them. Even if it hadn’t been entirely his fault, the thought of facing him made her cringe.
“Got any good ideas yet?” Bisma appeared out of nowhere.
“Oh, Bis—you scared me.”
“Why?”
“It’s nothing.”
Her heart nearly stopped when he patted her shoulder. Then Bisma showed her the shots he had taken. With those, Priska already had enough material for her piece. They still needed to interview a few people—either organizers or guests—but for Priska, this part of the job could actually be fun.
***
That evening at Faby’s café. Priska was taken aback to see Indra sitting at a table, taking photos of Faby’s dishes. He praised the presentation, saying it looked like something out of a five-star hotel. Faby, modest as ever, brushed it off, claiming she only learned from the internet and her mother. The two of them laughed together over some joke.
Priska pretended not to notice Indra and walked in as if nothing had happened. But Faby immediately called her over—perhaps on purpose to embarrass her.
“Priska! You’re home late today,” Faby said.
Priska mumbled a vague reply, but Faby pulled her to sit across from Indra. He glanced at her briefly before scooping rice onto his plate.
“Please, enjoy. And wait just a bit, Pris—I’ll whip up something you love,” Faby added before heading back to the kitchen.
Now left alone with Indra, Priska felt painfully awkward. She buried herself in her phone. Aldo had been absent from the office today, leaving her to work overtime without any trace of him—which was a relief. Yet here she was, face-to-face with Indra, her heart pounding wildly.
“Pris, sorry about yesterday. Want to try this? Faby’s noodles are amazing,” Indra said, holding out a spoonful near her lips, as if to feed her.
She blinked at him, offering a nervous smile. Glancing at Faby—who was busy chopping vegetables with her back turned—Priska hesitated. They had only just met. Wasn’t this too much? But when she looked into Indra’s earnest eyes, she faltered.
“No need. I’ll wait for Faby,” she replied.
Unfortunately, her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl, exposing her lie and making her flush with embarrassment. Why did she always end up in ridiculous situations around him? Indra smirked, clearly amused, and Priska reluctantly opened her mouth to accept the bite. He looked thoroughly satisfied watching her chew. And indeed, the noodles were delicious—the shrimp, egg, and chicken paired with springy noodles. Faby truly was gifted in the kitchen.
“I really am sorry about yesterday,” Indra said, his gaze steady.
Priska froze as she watched him take a bite from the same spoon she had just used. The thought made her blush furiously, though she tried to shake it off as nothing but her imagination.
“If anything, I should be the one apologizing, Sir—for dragging you into the restroom like that,” she admitted.
“By the way, who was it that came looking for you yesterday? Your boyfriend?” Indra asked, curious.
Priska nearly choked. How was she supposed to answer? Aldo could probably be called her ‘almost boyfriend’—if she wanted him to be. But the truth was complicated, and her feelings toward Aldo weren’t exactly fond.
“He’s my boss,” she said finally.
“Since I’ve already seen you—inside and out—would you consider being my real girlfriend, Pris?” Indra asked in an even tone.
Priska was struck dumb. His words were both bold and respectful at the same time.
“Sorry, but we don’t really know each other,” she replied, attempting to decline.
“We can start getting to know each other,” Indra countered smoothly.
Bang!
The café door swung open, drawing everyone’s attention. Faby whistled and shook her head. Priska frowned in confusion as Aldo strode in, still in his business suit. Indra only smirked at the sight of him.
“Who says otherwise? She’s my girlfriend. Stop trying to flirt with someone else’s woman,” Aldo declared from the doorway.