Law #2: Don't Play with a Player: A Sweet Office Romance Story (Laws of Love) Agnes Canestri (reading eggs books txt) đź“–
- Author: Agnes Canestri
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Why did I ever confide in my sister about what Hayley did?
“It’s nothing to do with Laia,” I sigh. “Laia is great. More than great. Hayley’s bravado is the last thing I’d expect from her.”
Even if, Laia would probably look incredibly hot in a costume like—
I kick myself inwardly before my pathetic brain can continue with this idea.
“Ah, I’m glad to hear this,” Ellie says. “Your new assistant seemed very nice. I’d be disappointed to hear if she turned out to be dopey.”
“So what, liking me would make Laia a moron? That’s what you’re implying?”
I don’t know why my question has a sharp edge.
Ellie chuckles. “Look who got all touchy-feely. Don’t worry, that’s not what I meant. I think you’re a good guy, brother. It’s a pity you don’t let anyone see it. At least not since that witch, Morgan, broke your heart.”
Mentioning my ex makes me recall yesterday’s meeting.
“I bumped into Morgan yesterday. We spoke.”
“Don’t tell me you’re rekindling with her?” Ellie’s voice is alarmed.
“No, of course not. She just happened to be in the same teahouse where Laia and I had a client meeting. She’s still married to Theo.”
“That dullard, ah yeah.”
Her comment lures a smile to my lips.
Ellie is incredibly loyal, as a friend and as a sister. Even if she used to like Theo, as soon as she learned that Morgan cheated on me with him, my sister totally wrote the dude off.
“So how was it seeing Morgan?” Ellie’s chirpy tone is tuned down to a softer timbre that somehow reminds me of Laia’s way of speaking.
“Nothing special,” I say automatically, because my thoughts are revisiting the first time I heard my assistant’s voice.
“Really?” Ellie gasps. “You sound like you mean it.”
“I do,” I answer, and while I utter the words, I realize they’re correct.
Then why did I feel so sullen after the teahouse? If it wasn’t Morgan’s presence, then what?
“I’m happy for you,” Ellie says. “That girl was the worst thing that ever happened to you. She turned you into a commitment-phobic. But you’re not like Pete. You’re—”
A loud alarm resounds on the phone.
“Ah, dang it, I need to go,” Ellie grumbles. “We’re having a general fire training in the health center, and apparently, I’m supposed to be heading to the nearest exit.”
“Go, go. Hone your rescue skills. I’ll wrap up here and then head out.”
“Okay, have a good weekend, Dev. Speak to you later.”
“Later, sis.”
I switch off my phone, thanking my lucky stars that Ellie’s establishment made the entirely unreasonable decision to organize a fire drill on a Friday evening. It saved me from listening to a lecture.
Whatever my sister thinks about Pete and the kind of life he introduced me to, it sure helped me get over Morgan.
For good it seems.
I was bewildered to see my ex, but I didn’t feel enraged, hurt, or even mildly attracted.
I did think her hairdresser went too crazy with her highlights. Was it because Morgan stood close to Laia?
A flashing symbol on my screen draws my eyes. I have a new email from Laia. I click it open, and my jaw drops.
She’s already finished the briefing documents I assigned this morning. This girl is truly a treasure. I should go congratulate her on her quick work.
Just as I stand up, I hear chatter in the corridor. Katja must still be in the office.
I lower myself back into my chair. I’d prefer to give my kudos to Laia when my secretary is gone. Probably because Katja pointed out that I seem to check on her and Laia way more often than I used to with the others.
Which is not even true.
Or perhaps it is.
But I have more things to discuss with Laia than with my previous assistants. In a week, she has made herself a valuable resource I can lean on and whose opinion is worth listening to.
I’ll check a few spreadsheets and wait till Katja leaves.
Then I can go out and compliment Laia.
Chapter 16
(Laia)
Katja zips her large brown handbag and shoulders it, while her free fingers strike a few keys to shut down her computer.
I take this as my cue that the day’s about to end and let out a relieved sigh.
It’s going to be my first, well-deserved weekend as an employed woman.
I stretch my arms above my head and roll my head in small, circular motions. I’ve been sitting at my desk almost the entire day, and my body craves some movement.
Though the task I’ve been assigned to was enjoyable, I don’t mind calling it a night.
Just as I push back my chair, Katja stands up and looks at me.
“What are you doing, Laia?”
“Getting ready to go home?” I reply, phrasing my words more as a question than a statement, because something in Katja’s startled tone makes me suspect I might’ve misinterpreted the situation.
“Laia, I’m going home, but as his assistant, you must wait till Devon is done. He might have sent you home earlier on Wednesday, but you won’t have that privilege all the time.”
She gives me an earnest you’re-not-to-leave nod that makes her trademark braids drift forward.
Once again, I’m surprised just how similar she looks to how I pictured Ranyevskaya’s character in The Cherry Orchard. One day, when we’re on friendlier terms, I’ll ask her where her family is originally from.
“No problem.” I smile as if her request didn’t weigh on me, then trying to hit a casual tone, I add, “Just out of curiosity, how long does Devon usually stay? I hope not too late, right?”
Almost an hour ago, Chelsea messaged me that she’d already finished her day and asked me to go out for a cocktail and dinner with her colleagues from accounting.
From the winking smiley she added to her text, I deduced that the famous bulging-suit Howard will be with her.
Since she’ll probably stay out
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