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

is off from my shoulders. But as I step out and follow Devon to his door, the only thing I feel is my belly knotting with bitterness.

Chapter 22

(Devon)

Pete once told me that elevators are places of in-between, and as such, they are the perfect setting for heated interactions that wouldn’t otherwise be allowed. Rooms where the rules of the game can be reinvented.

Did I buy into his wacky reasoning?

It seems that I did, otherwise, why would I have come at Laia like that? Throwing some Don Juan act on her…in the name of what? Hurt pride?

The memory of her face as she admitted just how innocent she really is, makes me cringe, and I accelerate my pace.

I need to get away from that steamy little box where my words and actions turned into my worst enemies. A swishing noise behind me tells me that Laia must be only a few steps from me.

I exhale and turn the key in the lock.

The only thing I can do is to admit it happened. I apologized to Laia, and she accepted. Perhaps she’ll forget soon just what a colossal jerk I’ve been.

With this thought in mind, I push the door open.

“Oh, cielo mio, is this cute thing yours?”

Laia’s soprano makes me whip around. She’s staring at something between my legs. A weak meow signals to me that she must’ve discovered my little companion. I point at the furry, black ball sitting on my travertine floor. “Yes, that’s Cat.”

“I can see it’s a cat. What’s his name? Or is it a she?”

“It’s a she. And she is called Cat.”

Laia snorts. “Did you call your cat Cat? That’s just….mhmm.” She wrinkles her forehead. “Very original, to say the least.”

“Yeah, I’m not big on naming pets. Hudson was an exception.” I smile, and my heart leaps when Laia exchanges it with one of her own.

Desperate to make the atmosphere between us agreeable again, I blabber on, “Technically, the kitten isn’t even mine. It’s Ellie’s, so I shouldn’t have had to name her. But since the beast has lived in my apartment for the last six months, I had to come up with a way to call her.”

We enter, and the sleazy animal goes straight for Laia’s legs. Cat circles around her purring like a turbocharged engine.

Normally only the sight of Ellie unleashes this level of enthusiasm from Cat. Me returning home certainly never qualifies for such a show.

Laia kneels down and lifts Cat gently. “Oh, heavens. Look at that! What a sweet kitty.” Laia rubs her underneath her chin and throws me a questioning look. “I didn’t figure you as a cat person.”

Cat relaxes into her arms as if it’s the place she’s always intended to be. I didn’t think her purring could get any louder, but it does.

“Why is that?” I ask, a curious inclination in my voice.

It seems the episode in the elevator wasn’t enough for my entire brain to get the memo that it would be best if Laia and I stay in a strict boss-employee relationship.

“I don’t know.” Laia tilts her head. “Maybe from the dedication to your work and your busy social life.” She clears her throat. “But also because of Hudson. I assumed that if you did have a pet, it would be a dog.”

“Actually, if it depended on me, I probably wouldn’t have chosen to care for a cat. But my sister begged me to adopt Cat after one of her roomies refused to put up with the noise. Apparently, I am just supposed to be fine with that.”

“Aww, that’s really sweet of you.” Laia giggles.

The sound of her laugh makes Cat’s eyes spring open.

I wasn’t mistaken when I compared Laia’s gaze to my cat’s. Now that the two pairs of yellow-brown irises are staring at me, they look eerily similar to each other.

Laia furrows her brows. “What are you gaping at? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Nothing, just surprised to see Cat like anyone besides Ellie.”

“Isn’t she usually this well behaved?”

“If you call peeing into my shoes, scratching my bed, and ignoring me royally after I’ve just fed her then, yes, Cat is the best-behaved pet ever.”

Laia laughs, this time whole-heartedly. It’s so contagious I chuckle with her.

Cat, recognizing the only word of interest to her from our conversation, jumps from Laia’s arms and bolts to her plate in the kitchen.

“Oh, oh. I think someone is hungry,” Laia says.

“Yes, this is partially why I needed to stop by, besides giving you the briefing reports. Normally my neighbor lady takes care of Cat’s afternoon snacks, but today she’s visiting her niece.”

“Do you want me to feed Cat while you gather your papers?”

“Sure, that would be great.”

Though I don’t want to ask favors of Laia, having a few minutes alone would be a much-needed break. I have to reorganize my thoughts and rid my body from the desire her closeness awakened.

“Where can I find her food?”

“Cat’s stuff is in the white cupboard to the left when you enter the kitchen. The beast drinks only sparkling water.” I lift my shoulders and drop them. “Don’t ask me how she got into that weird habit. Probably Ellie spoiled her for life before abandoning her to me.”

“White cupboard, sparkling water. Noted.”

Laia leaves for the kitchen, and I go straight to my study. Just as I enter, my landline rings.

“Hey, man. What’s up? Finally, I manage to catch you,” Pete’s gruff voice echoes on the phone.

“I was busy yesterday when you rang me.”

“I hope with someone ravishing and not with some stinky work stuff.” Pete chuckles.

His familiar banter relaxes my shoulders. “I wish, my friend. I’ve been buried in a mountain of documents.”

My statement is a partial fib. When Pete called last night, I’d already finished correcting Laia’s reports. But I didn’t feel like going out, so instead, I ordered in some Chinese and spent the evening watching a Mexican serial about narco-trafficking. I even managed to pick up a few Spanish expressions which I could show off to Laia when—

“Don’t you have an assistant who