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

Laia throws me a questioning glance as if she wants my final blessing. When I nod encouragingly, she lights up the engine.

My Audi gives out its usual roar, resembling a lion who is poked awake despite its will.

“What a sound. It’s pure seduction,” she giggles excitedly.

She looks as happy as my sister when Mom bought her a hamster—minus the fact that said hamster bit Ellie’s finger the first time she caressed him.

I set the GPS to the meeting’s address, and we roll out of the garage.

Laia is so absorbed by driving that she doesn’t say a word during our entire ride to the teahouse.

I don’t mind our silence. It’s a thrill to watch Laia handle my car, especially the content smile stretched on her lips. Without the distraction of small talk, I can focus my attention on how she switches gears and rolls the wheel.

She definitely has more grit as a driver than I’d have assumed based on her sweet, and sometimes shy, character. Though she stays in the speed limits, she deepens her foot on the gas whenever she can, obviously enjoying the Audi’s horsepower.

The sight of her makes my belly buzz with a certain warmth. We share the same passion, so I can relate to her pleasure.

Or at least I hope it’s only that.

We arrive at the Okinawa Teahouse all too soon. As Laia parks the car, I’m almost sorry that we must get out.

Devon, concentrate! You have a crucial negotiation now.

The reminder is much needed, because if I were to follow my gut, I would cancel the meeting with Mr. Leonic and ask Laia to take me to Los Angeles. Or anywhere else far enough so I can watch her drive for a few more hours.

Chapter 14

(Laia)

Ever since I read the Memoirs of a Geisha, I’ve wanted to travel to Japan for my honeymoon. But given that my soulmate is taking his time showing up, the Okinawa teahouse is probably the closest I’ll get to this fantasy for a long while.

The place possesses an authentic charm with some East meets West flare. Stone, bamboo, and pictures depicting the flower arrangement used in tea ceremonies are thoughtful reminders of nature everywhere.

The tables are swooping booths, and each sitting area is mirrored by a cylinder of wood attached to the ceiling to create the sensation of trees in a forest. The tiny spotlights above them mimic the effect of the sun filtering in through the treetops.

A waitress in an elegant kimono leads us to a booth close to the large windows providing a dramatic panorama to the desert landscape.

We order Jasmine tea, and it arrives in a hand-painted ceramic tea pot featuring a panda.

Mr. Leonic is a man with a reddish beard and half-moon shaped glasses. He either has a nervous tick or feels uncomfortable about the branding changes Devon is proposing, because he keeps adjusting his blue tie even if it sits impeccably.

After listening to Devon for a few minutes, I decide it must be the former. There’s no way Mr. Leonic doesn’t see the pure genius in Devon’s plan.

Later, as if to confirm my deductions, Mr. Leonic announces, “Devon, I’m impressed. You captured our image problem perfectly. I agree that we need to stop focusing on depicting singlehood as a problem. And I love the hopeful message that finding love is an adventure.”

Devon nods. “Are you ready to move forward with the creative brief then?”

“Oh, yes.” Mr. Leonic taps on the table. “The sooner, the better.”

“Great.” Devon exchanges a triumphant glance with me. “Then, let’s discuss the details on how to continue.”

My heart makes a small jump at the sight of Devon’s smile.

After seeing him handle this deal, I have an easier time understanding how he could build Hudson Communications from scratch.

Devon is more than just an above-average handsome guy. He has strong magnetism. This has to be the key component of his successful career.

Where does his charisma come from?

Is it the way his chin darts forward decisively when he nods? Or is it the I know what I’m talking about and I’m your savior gleam in his blue irises?

Yes, this last aspect is definitely part of his charm.

If you glance into his eyes when he talks—or, in my case, watch from the side while paying meticulous attention to keeping my jaw from gaping—you get the feeling that Devon could be the man you need to solve all your problems.

The only man you’d ever need. 

I pinch the skin above my wrist underneath the table to snap myself out of the moony haze. What am I even thinking?

Devon has the perfect manners to present his business ideas and a ravishing smile that accompanies them; it doesn’t mean I should fall under his spell.

I must remember I’m only allowed to appreciate him as my boss.

As a man, Devon couldn’t be farther away from my ideals. His man-about-town lifestyle is the antithesis of how I view relationships. Had we met outside of work, I’d have probably run the other way.

I’d better focus on this each time I feel these annoying butterflies in my stomach.

“… with all these details cleared, I’ll head back to my company and announce the good news to my associates.” Mr. Leonic takes the last sip from his cup then stands up.

What? Is the meeting over?

I peek at my watch and realize we’ve been sitting in the teahouse for over an hour. It seemed so short. Maybe because I spent a chunk of the time pondering about Devon?

Devon straightens and shakes Mr. Leonic’s hand. “Happy to have you on board.”

Mr. Leonic turns to me. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Flores. Thank you for the great meeting.”

His good-bye is so warm I almost forget my role was about equal to the decorative cushion on the bench.

When the man leaves, I glance at Devon. “Shall we go?”

His eyes move to my cup, which is still full. “Why don’t we sit back and