I adamantly refused to follow Damar's suggestion and declined his invitation to pick out matching batik outfits for the two of us. Just the thought of it made me shudder. Damar and I wearing coordinated batik? I must be losing my mind.
It felt too intimate, too couple-like—something reserved for weddings or engagement photoshoots, not a formal birthday party. The idea alone made my cheeks warm, and not in a good way.
But this morning, Damar suddenly called me, saying he was already in front of my apartment. Wasn't his birthday celebration scheduled for later in the afternoon?
Damar refused to explain why he had come, leaving me with no choice but to go downstairs to meet him. Weekends were my time to sleep in as much as I wanted, but this man had completely ruined my plans.
I hadn't even had a sip of coffee, and I was already being dragged into something I didn't fully understand. I quickly tied my hair into a messy bun and threw on the first hoodie I saw before heading out.
"Is the event canceled?" I asked, as that was the only thing that came to mind when I approached his parked car. He shook his head and instead asked me to get in.
"Is something important happening?" I asked again, my curiosity growing.
"This is for you," he said, ignoring my previous question as he handed me a dark brown paper bag.
"What is this?" I asked, confused.
"It's for you to wear later this afternoon," he replied. My eyes widened in irritation at what he had done. Yet, despite my reluctance, I reached into the bag.
"I'm not wearing this," I declared stubbornly while pulling out the contents—a knee-length batik dress with a simple yet charming design. The pastel blue and white color combination was soothing to the eyes.
The fabric was soft under my fingers, clearly expensive. This wasn't some random off-the-rack batik—this was tailored, thoughtful. And worst of all, it was beautiful. Which made it harder to say no.
"Mr. Handoko will be pleased if you wear it." Damar's words left me puzzled. Who was I that Mr. Handoko would be pleased to see me? There would be plenty of guests at the event; I certainly wouldn't be one of the highlights.
"He likes things to match—whether it's colors, patterns, or other details. Wearing this will help you blend in with the rest of the guests," Damar explained, as if trying to persuade me.
I glanced at him briefly. Although I was reluctant, I let out a deep sigh and nodded.
It wasn't just the dress. It was the look in Damar's eyes—calm, assured, like he already knew I would agree. That somehow irritated me more than the dress itself.
"I'll pick you up before four in the afternoon," he said afterward.
"I've already ordered a gift for Mr. Handoko. Can I just have it delivered to his address instead?" I asked.
"No, the event is out of town. We'll bring it with us," he responded, making me frown.
"Out of town? Where exactly?" I asked, curious.
"Not too far, just in Puncak," he replied. Just in Puncak? He should have told me earlier. Now I was worried the traditional cake I had ordered might spoil during the journey.
"What's wrong?" Damar asked, looking completely unconcerned.
"What if the cake goes bad? Should I cancel it and get something else?" I asked, growing anxious. Instead of answering, Damar turned to me and stared for a moment, making me uncomfortable.
"Don't worry, I don't think there will be any problems before we arrive," he reassured me.
"Why is the event so far away? Wouldn't it be more convenient to hold it at a hotel or restaurant?" I muttered to myself.
Damar chuckled, making me wonder what was so amusing.
"Handoko Wiratman is full of surprises. He doesn't like the hustle and bustle of the city, so he chose to celebrate his birthday at one of his villas in Puncak," Damar explained.
Puncak. That explained the fresh air, the distance, and maybe even the batik. Everything about this event screamed exclusivity—handpicked guests, scenic location, and… Damar. The more I thought about it, the more nervous I got.
"You... seem to know a lot about Handoko," I said, suspicious.
"Of course, I do. We work for his company, don't we?" he replied.
I had been working at Global Kimia longer than he had, yet I knew nothing about Handoko Wiratman. I didn't even know my own favorite food; why would I bother learning someone else's?
After Damar left, I realized that agreeing to accompany him to the birthday celebration of Global Kimia's owner might have been a mistake. The event wouldn't start until the evening, and the location was two hours away from Jakarta. What time would we be heading back? I had been too eager and overlooked such trivial yet important details.
There was a time when I could confidently say I knew how to separate work and personal life. But now, with Damar's unpredictable behavior and this unexpected invitation, the lines were starting to blur.
I opened the paper bag again. How had Damar managed to find this dress overnight? And how did he know my exact size?
I would probably wear this dress only once. There was no way I'd willingly match outfits with a man I didn't even like. But for Handoko Wiratman's birthday, I decided to put my reluctance aside.
I didn't want to wear heavy makeup since we had a long journey ahead. Besides, it wasn't appropriate to go overboard with makeup at the birthday party of my company's owner.
Instead, I dabbed on a bit of powder and lip tint, just enough to make myself look presentable. Somehow, it felt like I was getting ready for something more than just a party—it felt like I was about to walk into a test I hadn't studied for.
Damar arrived earlier than expected, saying he wanted to anticipate weekend traffic.
"Will this be okay?" I asked worriedly as he placed the cake box in the back seat.
"Should I sit in the back instead?" I asked again.
"It's fine. This box is heavy enough to keep it stable," he assured me, pulling out an unopened carton of drinks from his car's trunk.
I had put on a knitted sweater over my dress since the weather was cool due to the heavy rain earlier. Coincidentally, Damar was also wearing a sweater over his outfit, making me wonder how he'd look in the matching batik shirt. For some reason, just thinking about it made me feel embarrassed.
Was I overthinking it? Probably. But still, my heart did a little somersault at the thought of us looking like a pair. Not that I would ever admit that out loud.
Even when I was in relationships before, I had never voluntarily worn matching outfits with my boyfriend. Yet, here I was, doing it with Damar—a man I had no romantic connection with. The thought amused and embarrassed me at the same time.
"Who else from Global Kimia was invited?" I asked.
"No one, just us," he replied.
I turned to him with disbelief. How could Damar be the only one invited? What about Mr. Hardi or the division heads?
"You must be joking," I said, not buying it.
"I meant the others were invited, but they couldn't make it," he corrected himself.
Really? Was it possible that even the company directors and division heads had coincidentally all been too busy to attend? If it were me, I'd prioritize an invitation from the company owner unless I had an unavoidable commitment.
"None of them could come?" I asked, still doubtful.
"Maybe because it's out of town and falls on a weekend," Damar reasoned.
His tone was calm, but there was something hidden beneath it—something unspoken. A weight he carried without explaining. And again, I was reminded how little I actually knew about this man.
He had a point. Perhaps they had prior plans that couldn't be canceled.
As I was imagining how extravagant Handoko Wiratman's birthday party might be, Damar's phone suddenly rang.
"We're on the way," he said, answering the call.
I wasn't one to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, but in this situation, I couldn't help but listen. It wasn't like I could cover my ears.
"Who told you to schedule it in the afternoon?" he said again.
I suddenly became curious. Who was calling Damar? Were they talking about Handoko Wiratman's birthday?
"There's no traffic. It's not holiday season," he added.
I glanced at the road ahead, but my ears focused on the man beside me.
"Just start without me. You don't have to wait for me to arrive," he continued before ending the call.
My heart pounded as troubling thoughts raced through my mind.
I turned to Damar slowly, searching his face for answers he wasn't offering. Calm. Focused. But too calm—like someone who was used to being waited for, expected.
What kind of relationship did Damar have with Handoko Wiratman?
Why couldn't the birthday party of a major company owner start without him? Why was I there with him?
Who was this man, really?(*)