Law #2: Don't Play with a Player: A Sweet Office Romance Story (Laws of Love) Agnes Canestri (reading eggs books txt) 📖

obvious joke, it still makes me wonder whether Devon will like my new, prettier wardrobe.

I know I shouldn’t even contemplate such absurdity.

No amount of gorgeous clothes can turn an average girl into a beauty like my roomie. And since Devon wasn’t impressed by Chelsea, he might not even notice my change of style at all.

Also, I’ve already established that Devon isn’t a man who should interest me on any level other than on a professional one.

But I can’t help it.

As I hurry into my room to change, an itsy-bitsy part of me hopes that when I walk into Hudson Communications tomorrow, Devon will be impressed by what he sees.

Chapter 7

(Devon)

After an excellent Chinese dinner, Pete and I drop Ellie off.

Since there’s no parking close to my sister’s apartment, my friend stops his Toyota Tacoma a block away from her entrance. He switches off the engine and turns to the backseat to say goodbye to Ellie.

His styled pompadour cut bounces gently with his movement. With his shiny black shirt, he reminds me of Elvis.

Ellie leans her freckled cheek toward Pete so they can exchange a kiss. “Thanks for taking me home,” she chirps. “I know it was a detour on the way to your club.”

“No problem. It was good to see you, kiddo,” Pete replies.

Pete is only two years my senior, but he insists on calling my sister “kiddo” for some weird reason. Ellie’s bet is that Pete does it as a way to deflect her criticism about our womanizing lifestyle. Some kind of mental protective barrier.

Since Ellie works for a behavioral clinic, I don’t feel like arguing with her hypothesis about this particular topic.

Ellie turns to me, but I shake my head. ”I’ll walk you,” I say instead.

“That’s not necessary, Dev, but if you insist…” Ellie feign-protests, but her relieved tone tells me she’s happy I offered.

Ever since my sister’s neighbor got mugged in a nearby alley, I’ve been worrying more about Ellie. I want to make sure I see her safely to the door first, even if Pete wants to get to Red Heaven before happy hour ends.

Ellie has been more wary too. She even picked up a new quirk, and she started carrying a lipstick knife in her purse.

It’s a ridiculous gadget that, quite frankly, is more likely to cause her an accidental mouth stabbing if she mixes it up with her lip balm rather than wound an even mildly skillful thief. But my sister insists it makes her feel more protected.

I hop out of the car and take a deep, conscious inhale. I hold it in for a few counts before releasing it. Though the times when I needed to practice breathing techniques to enhance my thoracic capacity are long gone, I still have the habit of doing this exercise each time I set foot outside.

The late-spring air is still too hot and dry for my taste, as the concrete walls continue to release the heat they’ve accumulated throughout the day.

My eyes fall on the thirsty shrub on the sidewalk, and I wish I had a bottle to water the poor fern.

I’m looking forward to July when finally the rainy season starts, which is much more to my liking.

Ellie jumps out too and slams the car door with a mighty bang that sends her light-brown locks dancing around her shoulders.

My buddy’s head pops out of the passenger window as his windscreens quiver. “Watch out, kiddo,” he complains. “My ride is my treasure. Don’t you break it.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, but before she can shoot back one of her fiery comments, I grab her arm and drag her toward her house.

“Don’t criticize Pete’s adoration of his toy, please,” I whisper as we walk away from the Toyota.

Ellie throws me an annoyed glance. “I wasn’t gonna. I can recognize a pathologically strong bond between a human and an object, and far be it from me to shatter it. Though I suspect that the only reason Pete likes his ride is because he thinks it’s a chick magnet. He isn’t obsessed with the nitty-gritty of cars like you are.”

I answer the remark with a short nod.

My friend would switch in a minute if he found another model of vehicle that would make his gigolo act more successful.

Ellie leans on me and suppresses a yawn. “Oh gosh, Dev, you can’t imagine how tired I am. I’m looking forward to a shower and then jumping into bed. I can’t fathom how you still have the energy for a club. It’s almost ten.”

I shrug. “I’ll just stay for a drink. Or maybe two.” Even if Pete definitely has other plans for us.

But tonight I can’t be his sidekick for too long. The interviews drained all my need for social interaction. I could easily call it a night right now. I’m going out because I promised Pete I’d keep him company, and I hate to back out on my word.

We arrive at the tall brick building with a rusty fire escape where Ellie and her two besties live.

My sister fetches her keys and hugs me. “Thanks for the delivery.” She winks and gives a peck on my cheek. “Have fun with Pete, but please behave. I don’t want to be pestered at work with gossip about my hunky brother’s newest conquest.”

“Ah, Ellie,” I smack my lips, “you exaggerate. It’s not like paparazzi lurk behind every corner, ready to write a juicy piece on me. I’m not that famous.”

“What about that double spread in Fancy & Stylish?”

I open my arms. “The reporter just happened to celebrate his birthday in the same bar Pete and I went to. I didn’t expect that he would trade his celebration to snap a few compromising pictures of me. In any case, I only accompanied that blonde to her car, much like I’m doing it with you now.”

“That’s not what the article said…” Ellie gives me an accusing glance.

“I never even drink Long Island Ice tea, so that should be an indication of how much the journalist made up. I was only