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

I learned that she had an affair with a friend of mine from the college faculty.”

“With a friend of yours? Oh, that’s horrible,” I whisper. “My closest experience to being betrayed was when Bobby, my prom date, whom I used to be head over heels about, admitted to me that he’d only accepted to show up in public with me because Chelsea promised she’d go out with him if he took me to the dance.”

Devon tilts his head, his mouth agape.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t know why I came up with this silly example,” I mutter. “My high school heartache is nothing compared to the treason you’ve suffered.”

Devon’s gaze heats with something that makes the blood thicken in my veins. “Please don’t depreciate your experiences. I might’ve made that mistake myself, but I’m not going to repeat it again. Also, just for the record, your prom date had to be a giant dullard if he couldn’t recognize just what a treasure you are.”

His statement takes my breath away.

“Thank you,” I mumble because nothing wittier comes to mind.

“No, thank you,” Devon says. “Your speech last night got me thinking. I’ve been replaying parts of it in my mind this morning.”

Oh, dear heaven…which parts? 

“Really?” I squeeze the sound out with considerable effort.

Devon leans forward, planting his elbows on the tablecloth. “Yes. And you’re right. I shouldn’t chase empty relationships. In fact, I decided I won’t. Not anymore.”

With each word, my chin drops lower. “Are you Devon?”

Devon chuckles. “Yes, it’s still me. I just had a…an epiphany. Come to think of it, I could even propose you a little deal concerning it.”

“A deal?” I chew on my lower lip.

“Yes. I’ll stop going after meaningless flings if you quit putting yourself down and finally realize you’re much better than what you think, or what pricks like Bobby made you believe.”

I gape at him, wide-eyed.

Is he serious? Or did the aliens kidnap him while I slept?

“So what do you think of our deal? Are you game?” he asks.

“Well, I could surely use a final push to abandon my harsh self-critique but… I’d like to understand…did you have a change of heart just because of what I told you?”

Devon sighs. “Not only. You remember the teahouse? The woman we met there was—”

“Morgan.”

“Yes. I haven’t seen her in a long time. But when I saw her in Okinawa, I wasn’t particularly touched. This clearly means that, despite the love I had for her, Morgan wasn’t the love of my life. Thus, her mistake shouldn’t make me doubt the importance of soulmates.”

I grab my glass to take a sip because my throat is suddenly parched.

When I lift it, I realize it’s empty. Devon immediately grabs a bottle of water and pours my glass full.

Like real full, up to the rim.

“Oh, sorry,” he says. “I like my glasses almost brimming. Shall I throw away a bit so that you can more easily drink?”

“No, that’s perfect.”

Devon and I both like our cups full?

This fact, coupled with his admission about wanting to believe in soulmates again, does more damage to my soul than a dumdum bullet could.

How am I ever going to convince myself that I’m not falling for Devon?

Devon, unaware of my inner battle, clears his throat. “Anyway, my new behavior isn’t something that will come easily to me. I’ve spent way too many years being cynical about love. That’s why…” He throws me a speculative glance. “I thought you could help me.”

“Meeee?”

Heat rushes to my head, and I feel dizzy at the possible implications behind his words.

“Yes.” Devon smiles. “You’re the person with the most unshakable belief about the importance of true love that I know. You’d be perfectly equipped to teach me how to become a believer. I’d like you to coach me on my road to being a reformed playboy.” He adds a wink to his last word.

I wish I could react to his self-ironic joke with a smile, but my features are frozen. I’d thought he meant I could help him because…

Of course, he wouldn’t mean it like that. Devon only wants me to coach him into a dream man so that he can find his dream woman.

Who, obviously, is not me.

Devon stares at me expectantly. “So, would you be up to it? I could lend you a hand with your self-confidence in return. This way, we would both nail our goals.”

“But-t-t I’m your assistant,” I stutter, flashing my job title as armor.

“Ah,” Devon waves, “I wouldn’t propose lessons at work. We could make time for them on the weekends, like today, for example. We could go to a park and then—”

“Park!” I squeak, suddenly remembering the promise I made Alicia last Sunday. I’m supposed to watch her twins while she and her hubby run some errands.

I peek at my watch and realize I barely have time to run home to shower and change.

“Everything okay?” Devon asks.

I jump up. “I’m sorry I need to go. I’m meeting someone at Margaret T. Hance Park at two.”

“A date?” Devon’s face tenses.

“Sort of,” I shrug. I don’t want to confess that it’s just babysitting duty.

Devon straightens. “Ah, okay, then I won’t keep you.”

I flash an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. Can we discuss this coaching idea of yours later?”

Or better, never.

I don’t think I’m strong enough to coach Devon in his metamorphosis. I’m too involved emotionally.

Way too involved.

“Sure, okay,” he answers.

I scurry to the corridor where I find my flats laid out nicely beside the entrance. Did Devon polish them? The soft leather glimmers more than usual. I decide to ignore the odd detail and slip them on.

Devon is behind me. “So, you’re going to Margaret T. Hance Park? Which part then?”

“Uhm, not sure.” I place my hand on the doorknob as if it could bring me closer to being out of Devon’s house and his bewitching closeness. “Near to the giant panda, I think.”

Yes, that will be the perfect spot for the twins. It’s got plenty of shade.

“Have fun. See you soon,” Devon says.

“Yes, see you on Monday. Bye-bye.” I slip out of the