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

Not that he needs it. Devon has the perfect build—athletic without looking like a weightlifting champion.

No. His looks are beside the point. I shouldn’t even contemplate them—especially not after the uncomfortable heat his proximity unleashed in me.

And that’s why I’m going to stop revisiting his textured haircut and broad shoulders. Right now.

I open my eyes and tap my cheeks twice to rid my head from any idle reverie.

I examine the coffee machine once more. It can’t be more challenging than writing a dissertation about the Sturm und Drang literary movement, and I’ve done that. I can surely figure out how to make this device work. Even if I need to toss away a few failed attempts in the process.

I grab a cup from a shelf and position it in the cupholder. I’ll try the simple cup with two lines. Two must stand for double. I push the button, and the machine wheezes loudly, but no liquid comes out.

“¡Venga!” I murmur under my breath. “What’s your problem?”

“Hello!”

A high-pitched soprano makes me jump. I whip around and find a woman only a couple of feet away from me.

Her hair is blond. Not the impeccably sun-bleached shade of Chelsea’s, but rather a vibrant platinum that forces me to squint.

I should have heard her approach on her chopstick stilettos, but the machine’s angry grunts stifled her clicking noise.

“What are you’re trying to do?” The woman tilts her foxlike head to the side as she studies me.

I was so caught up by her unnaturally bright hair that I forgot to answer her first question. Desperate to cancel out this lousy first impression—whoever this woman is, she’s my new colleague—I stick out my hand to her.

“Hi, I’m Laia. I’m Devon’s new PA. I’m trying to make this coffee machine work. Without success, as you can see.” I top my words with a friendly smile.

After a second of hesitation, she takes my hand, but only my fingertips.

Her skin is cold and oozy as if she put on lotion, and it hasn’t finished absorbing into her palms.

“Right, Laia. I knew who you were, just not your name. I’m Fanta.”

Fanta?

Who names their kid after a sparkling orange beverage? Are her parents huge soft drink fans?

I bite back my gasp and say, “Nice to meet you. Which department are you in?”

“I work for Sarah at HR. I came up here to see for myself what all the fuss is about.”

“Fuss?” I arch my brows. “What do you mean?”

Fanta waves. “Don’t pretend you don’t know that the entire team is talking about you.”

Even if her accusing tone takes me by surprise, it’s the meaning of her words that truly startles me.

“About me? Why?”

She makes a one-shouldered shrug. “People are curious why Devon picked you. Whether you’ll be Hayley 2.0.”

“Who is Hayley?”

“Devon’s former assistant,” she announces in a slightly nasal tone, constricting her nostrils as if she smelled an unexpected stench. “Aaaand…his ex-lover.”

My jaw goes slack. “Ex-lover?”

Devon had an affair with the woman who worked for him before me?

Katja’s brief mention of my predecessor and her dubious, “not his usual choice,” comment gains a whole new significance.

I pause.

Devon just told me that he doesn’t let his pleasure-seeker lifestyle spill over to work. Why would he have said that if he was involved with his previous assistant?

Maybe Fanta is just messing with me. A prank on the new girl?

“You’re kidding, right?”

Fanta shakes her head then leans into me, whispering. “Rumor has it Devon got his eyes on Hayley and courted her till she gave in. The poor girl fell in love with Devon. Once our CEO grew tired of her company, she was gone.”

“That can’t be right,” I murmur.

Fanta flashes a smile at me as if enjoying my unease. Her smirk—fake and gloating—makes her sharp canine teeth visible. I suddenly wonder if Fanta has a hidden agenda. Does she want to warn me off Devon?

“Ah, you better believe it. Don’t you read the tabloids? Our boss didn’t build his reputation under false pretenses. Devon Griffin is a chaser.” Fanta studies me from head to toe, then clicking her tongue, adds, “But don’t worry, you won’t be his next victim. He prefers blondes.”

A bell goes off in my head.

I know why Fanta sought me out. It isn’t to alert me about any lurking danger. It’s to mark her territory.

She has a thing for Devon.

As if to confirm my hunch, Fanta smooths down her bob with two hands and says, “Hayley’s hair had a very similar color to mine actually. Also, you’re too much of a shorty, Laia. Devon likes his girls tall.”

I don’t exactly know why…perhaps the fact that Fanta is observing me with the same belittling glance I’d so often received in school…but my lips move before I can stop them.

“You know, I hate to crush your hopes, but it’s unlikely that Devon would be interested in you either. I’m not sure what his previous attitude on office affairs was, but, only this morning, he reassured me that he wouldn’t engage in intimate relationships.”

“You asked him if he wants to hook up with you? Bold!” Fanta snaps her fingers, and the deprecation so evident only a second ago transforms into a sort of admiration.

If I were a cartoon character, this is where steam would start flowing out of my ears.

This chick is insane. Does she seriously think I’d ask such a question of my boss on my first day? Or on any regular day?

My hands fly to my hips. “Your question is so ridiculous I’m not even going to answer it.”

Fanta’s chin drops at my annoyed tone, but I’m not done with lecturing her.

It isn’t only my past frustrations that fuel my outburst, but a new sense of responsibility I feel toward Devon. He told me that one of my tasks would be to control his public image.

Protecting him from malicious comments in his own company’s kitchen is a great place to start.

I level my gaze on Fanta. “Besides, I don’t think you should be gossiping about our CEO. The salary you