A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

For those who don't know him, his name is AJ Chayapol Jutamat. He played a supporting role in Dark Blue Kiss.

AJ's POV

I did my best to live up to my father's expectations. He was a very shrewd and successful businessman restaurateur.

His constant travels to India where he had business deals with various business people over there had made him develop a taste for Indian cuisine. Because of this, he had decided to open an Indian restaurant, in addition to another restaurant which offered Thai dishes which mostly centered on seafood menus.

He used to ask me to help him run the Thai restaurant but with the newly opened Indian restaurant, he wanted me to focus on running it with him.

I was surprised that he had given me complete reins over the Indian restaurant. I am only eighteen years old but because I am his oldest son he had no choice but to put his confidence in me. I had to work hard to be worthy of his trust in running the business well.

I personally checked each order that a customer made to make sure that the chef got it right. I did not want to have to deal with unhappy customers.

I was mostly stressed out on Friday and Saturday and Sunday nights when people swarmed to our new restaurant to try out our novelty Indian cuisine.

On Friday nights, our clientele consisted mostly of businessmen who held business dinners, or employees who just wanted to relax after a tiring five day work week.

On Saturday and Sunday noons and evenings, the restaurant was packed with families or friends who just wanted to relax for the weekend.

Since today was a Monday, I felt more at ease as I had to deal with only a few customers who trickled in for lunch.

In the evening, I could see that I only had to deal with a couple who seemed to have just started a new romantic relationship. They were constantly looking into each other's eyes wearing a silly grin and holding hands across the table as they waited for their order to be served.

I had no trouble checking that the chef got their orders right.

I was leafing through a book about Indian cuisine when the front door opened and I saw my head waiter rushing to greet two customers who had just walked in.

I was expecting to see another romantic couple but instead I saw a man, probably in his mid thirties and a much younger one, maybe in his late teens like me.

I was wondering if they were father and son. They looked very different from each other but then maybe the son looked like his mother instead of his father. The mother must be unbelievably pretty because this guy was unbelievably handsome.

I watched as the head waiter ushered them to a table of their choice.

I kept staring at the young man who was my age and I could not quite understand why my heart was beating faster than usual. For some reason I wanted to impress him and his father and provide them with the best service and the most delicious dishes from our menu.

With a heart that pounded against my chest like I had just finished running a marathon, I approached the table.

"Good evening, sirs," I said, bowing to father and son, my smile hiding the nervousness that was making my hands clammy. "My name is AJ. I am the manager of this restaurant and I would like to personally welcome you to our newly opened Indian novelty cuisine."

"Thank you, AJ," the father smiled back at me, "what dish would you recommend to me and my partner here?"

I almost choked on my spit. They were not a father and son duo. They were love partners!

I felt some kind of disgust rise up my chest. Their age gap was so wide. That boy must be so poor as to give himself away to someone old enough to be his father.

The older partner was speaking again.

"Recommend to us a dish that Indians would eat to celebrate," he said.

Oh god, I thought. They were probably celebrating their newly wedded bliss. I actually started thinking of the worst Indian dish that I could recommend.

"I don't care if it's the most expensive dish on your menu," the older guy was speaking again. "We're here to celebrate."

By this time I was hardly listening. I just wanted to walk away. So much for thinking how good looking the young man was. His good looks suddenly melted away in my mind. But I had to remain polite and professional and so I took the menu book that my head waiter handed to me.

As I opened the book to pretend to browse through the menu, the older man started to talk again.

"We have just signed a filming contract. As his talent manager and acting agent, I want to reward him by treating him to a good dinner," said the older guy, making a gesture with his finger to refer to the good looking young man seated on the other side of the table.

"AJ, AJ, AJ," I scolded myself, "when will you ever teach yourself to stop jumping to wrong conclusions."

I found my heart beating irregularly once more as I now started to pay close attention to the contents of the menu booklet.

"I would like to recommend the Murg Makhani," I said.

"What kind of dish is that," the young man spoke to me for the first time, making my heart spin around in my chest.

I met his eyes and smiled my warmest smile.

"It is a dish consisting of pieces of chicken that have been marinated twice in a yogurt mixture," I explained slowly, wanting to remain in the presence of this gorgeous eye candy for as long as I could. "It is cooked slowly in chicken stock and tomato puree to which olive oil, onion, garlic, ginger and butter have been added. This dish will go well with black lentils which the Indians call kaali daal, and also naan and a green salad."

"What is naan?" again the gorgeous looking young man addressed me.

"It is an oven baked flat bread," I replied, meeting his eyes once more and smiling warmly at him. "This kind of bread will go better with the Murg Makhani than rice would."

"Very well," this time it was the older man, the talent manager, who spoke up, "bring us two orders of those, please."

"I will personally deliver your order to our chef, sir" I said, bowing to him and to the young man before walking away with light steps.

I tried to ignore the curious look that my head waiter sent my way. I could not blame him though, because this was the first time that he had seen me personally approach a customer and take over his job as the head waiter.

I could not help glancing secretly at the young man every now and then from behind the cashier's counter where I was sitting.

I really wanted to know what his name was. I wasn't surprised at all that he turned out to be an actor. No wonder his face looked like someone who could land the lead role in a romantic film.

The only reason I was not familiar with him or any other celebrity in the entertainment industry was because I was too busy running my father's business to have time to watch any film in the theaters or on TV.

Suddenly I had an idea.

When dinner was over, the older man approached me to pay for the dinner with his credit card.

"That dish that you recommended was so good," he said, "I believe you will be seeing us again. I think I'm going to get addicted to that dish."

"What was the name of that dish again?" the young man who stood beside his manager, asked me.

"It's called Murg Makhani," I said, pronouncing the name slowly so that he could hear it clearly.

After I processed the payment, I decided to put my idea into effect.

I took out two of my business cards from a small box inside one of the drawers under the cash register.

I handed one to the talent manager and the other one to the young man who was causing the strong palpitations in my chest.

"This is my business card," I said to both of them, "feel free to call me for any dinner reservations, either by yourselves or with a group."

"Thank you," they both said at the same time as they accepted the cards.

"Would you happen to have any business card of yours?" I asked both of them, hoping that the young celebrity had a business card of his own with him.

"I do have one," the talent manager replied, "why do you ask? Are you interested in signing up with me? You have the looks of an actor. All you need is training to act in front of a camera."

"If I can convince my father to let me give up my work here, why not?" I replied, my heart sinking at the thought that there was no way that my father would let me do so.

After the talent manager handed me his business card, I handed it over to the young man.

"Would you kindly write your name and contact number on the back of this card?" I asked, my heart in my throat, hoping against hope that he would do as I requested.

The young man turned to his talent manager, seeking his guidance.

The manager nodded.

Success!

Perhaps it was because of my strong desire to see him again that made me say to him, "On your next visit here, your order will be on the house."

I stood up from my position behind the cashier's counter and personally escorted him and his manager to the door.

I took the young man's hand and addressed him by the name he wrote at the back of his talent manager's card, "I hope that you will come back very soon, Art."

Art looked down at his hand being held by mine and then turned to me.

"How old are you, young man?"

"I'm eighteen," I said proudly. If he was seventeen, he would have to call me P'.

"My dear boy," he said, looking at me condescendingly (actually he had to look up because I was several inches taller than him), "I'm twenty three, so you would have to call me P'."

Shit, he didn't look a day older than me. Was he lying about his age? If he wasn't, that would make him a good five years older than me.

No, no, no, I have my father's blood in me. Obstacles did not exist in our vocabulary. No mere age gap was going to keep me away from this stunningly gorgeous guy.