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

when she sees our widening eyes, she nods. “Nada, absolutely nothing. Devon let her go because she tried to seduce him one evening, and he didn’t wish to get involved with an employee. But he fixed her up with a new job at a different company. So he didn’t just put the gal out on the street, so to speak.”

I stare at my roomie, my mouth hanging. “Are you serious?”

Chelsea nods. “I heard Ellie say it, honey. I think you might have made a bit of a gaffe with Devon after all.”

A gaffe?

No, I made a disaster. 

“Oh, dear heaven. I accused Devon of being a liar and a boss with a fetish for his assistants…and none of that was true…” I bury my face into my hands.

Eva rubs my back. “On the upside, cousin, it probably means that Devon actually loves you, like he said he did.”

Devon loves me…

Eva’s words hover in my brain like grains of sugar in a glass of water. The more I stir and turn them, the more they dissolve and seep into me, releasing a sweet gushiness I thought I could never feel again.

My lips move into a smile. “You think he loves me?”

Eva and Chelsea both nod.

“The only question is,” Chelsea says, “why he decided to lie to you.”

“It’s because I hurt him with my lack of faith in him,” I answer without hesitation, raising my head.

As soon as the words make their way to my lips, I know they must be right.

I’ve failed Devon. I impeached him when he was innocent. And all because I saw Morgan in a sexy nightgown enter his room. I accused him of being shallow, but the one who was shallow was me.

Eva sighs. “Well, then we need to find a way to make him see that you believe in him.”

“You’re right,” I mutter. “I have to speak to Devon and apologize for my prejudiced behavior. Even if he might not be interested in what I have to say. Maybe I’ve lost his interest for good…”

Chelsea clicks her tongue. “Nonsense. The guy must be heartbroken like you were a minute ago. You think he won’t care if he learns that the woman he loves actually trusts him and wants to be with him? I don’t think so.”

Eva nods. “Indeed. I might’ve said I wasn’t interested in what Nathan had to say after I thought he betrayed my trust, but actually I was dying to hear that he loved me. You need to confess to Devon that you misjudged him and ask him to forgive you.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to bother him at home or at work…”

I’m only finding excuses. I’m chickening out over the possibility that I blew my chance with Devon.

Chelsea grins. “I have the perfect solution. You call Ellie and convince her to take her brother out to dinner. Then you show up instead of his sister and boom! You have a gorgeous, cozy setting for your grand gesture.”

Chelsea’s idea isn’t bad.

Devon could just ignore the doorbell once he sees it’s me at his doorstep or at work. He could duck into a meeting. But in a restaurant…

I jump up and scurry to my phone charging on the kitchen counter and lift it. “I’m going to do this,” I say while already clicking on Ellie’s number.

“Don’t pick Italian though,” Chelsea warns me. “You can’t make a love confession while eating spaghetti or dripping from pizza sauce. My tip is sushi, clean, quick, and a bit of sake that will loosen your inhibitions.”

“Sushi, got it.” I flash a smile at my roomie.

If my day, and perhaps my life, turns around, it will be entirely thanks to her and her big mouth. I’ll have to excuse myself for rebuking Chelsea for her indiscretion.

But first, I need to concentrate on making my apology to Devon.

Let’s hope he’ll forgive me for being such a dork…

Chapter 48

(Devon)

I silence my vibrating phone and take another sip from my drink.

“Shouldn’t you answer Ellie’s call?” Pete asks me with a concerned glance.

“Nah, she surely wants to speak to me about how stupid I’ve been with Laia, and I’m in no mood for such a chat. I want to forget and have fun.”

I wave toward the stage where Harry, the pianist I jumped in for, is playing a soul fusion song.

Pete tilts his head to the side, and his hair, combed into a carefree coif tonight, bounces from his movement. “Man, I understand the advantages of the head in the sand strategy. I do. I’m usually all for it. But in this case, I—”

“Shhh.” I press my finger to my lips. “Not another word about what happened. It was my conscious decision to lie to Laia, and I did it to make her happy.”

Deep heart-to-hearts aren’t Pete’s forte. He must feel strongly about my behavior, because, despite his usual that’s-just-life attitude, he shakes his head.

“You said Laia friggin’ cried. That’s not a sign of joy. Also, your idiotic fib is making you miserable, dude!” Pete shifts uncomfortably on his barstool. “Dev, I’ll give it to you straight. You made a colossal blunder. It’s hogwash that Laia will be better off without you. Especially if she’s in love with you.”

I twirl around on my chair and lean my back to the bar’s counter.

And here I was hoping that by avoiding Ellie, I could escape the sneaky, self-blaming inner voice that’s been insulting me ever since I got back from Tucson. The one that suggests I took the easy way out. That my giving up on Laia wasn’t a noble gesture, but the manifestation of my ultimate fear of commitment.

Now it seems that I’ve unwittingly signed up for Pete’s rescue mission.

My buddy also turns to the stage and kicks the flooring with his brown brogue. The ground is paved with black-and-white stones that mimic piano keys. On each dark strip, the name of an iconic jazz singer is engraved, and Pete’s sole is currently pestering Nat King Cole.

“I’d like to give you a piece of