Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (the beginning after the end novel read .TXT) 📗

“You know you could delegate some work once in a blue moon. It wouldn’t kill you. But spending as much time at work as you do, might,” Murphy says in a disapproving tone.

Typical. Murphy doesn’t understand that, if you want something to be done well, you need to do it yourself. But before I can shoot back a comment, he squints. “Unless…you’re using your duties as an excuse to brainstorm strategies concerning Eva. If so, then you have my blessing.”

His teasing remark hits the bull’s eye. I was planning to reevaluate my plans for how to conquer Eva, since simply approaching her in the bar didn’t work. “Maybe I’ll think of her a little as well.”

“I hope so, Nate.” Murphy pokes me in the chest. “But you’ll need to behave differently than you do in a business negotiation if you want to succeed with this girl. Remember we’re testing your people skills, not your bulldozer sales skills. Are we clear on that?”

“Sure, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing,” I say with a bit more assurance than I feel.

I toss a few dollars for my beer on the counter and say goodbye to Murphy, before dashing to the door.

I don’t want to be around if Eva happens to come out into the bar again. No, the next time she sees me, I’ll be prepared for wooing her for good. I just need time, and a clear head to think.

Chapter 6

(Eva -Day 2)

“Esperanza, come! I’m waiting for you.”

Abuelita’s voice grows shrill, then she stops and sighs tiredly. She slouches on a kitchen chair, putting her legs up on the small ottoman in front of her. The flooring creaks loudly at her movement.

I turn off the water at the sink and dry my hands on a cloth. “Wait, Abuelita. I’ll go fetch the naughty princess for you.”

“That’s kind of you, Eva. We’ll be late for church if she doesn’t get ready.”

“You need to stop chasing Juan and Espie. If you call them, they must come to you. Or else, punishment. You can’t be running around with those legs. You’ll hurt yourself,” I scold her tenderly.

My eyes travel to her ankles. They are swollen and slightly red. A clear sign that she’s done too much this morning.

My grandmother gives me a benevolent smile. “Ah, honey. Punishment doesn’t teach people a thing. Only love does. Don’t forget that. You’ve become a bit of a warrior since your mother passed away. I know you need your wits to survive, but I wish you would let down your guard sometimes.” She wiggles her white brows. “Especially with men. I want to see my great-grandchildren before I die.”

I lean back against the large cupboard that my mother hand-painted with flowers to cover up the cracks around its handles and roll my eyes. “Oh, Abuelita!”

It’s the same old track Abuelita has been playing since I moved home. Though she is, of course, right on some level. I might have developed a radar for danger that works too well. It tends to classify harmless people, especially men, as possible sources of trouble, so I stay clear of them. But it’s better to be safe than sorry, right? The last time I trusted someone, it turned into a disaster. I surely won’t do that again soon. Likely never.

No matter how mesmerizingly grey his eyes are.

Crud, where did this last thought come from? I can’t still be thinking about Nathan, can I?

An image of a sunset on the beach—like I’ve only seen in the movies, given that I’ve never actually been to the ocean, fills my mind. Sunbeams sparkle on the crystal champagne flutes as a waiter fills them with a light bubbly on the terrace of a fancy restaurant. In the background, the soft buzz of a private jet’s engine plays a duet with the murmuring of the waves.

I shake my head and my sensible side kicks in just in time.

Stop with this hideous fantasy. Nathan’s proposal was just a shameless attempt to woo me with his wealth. Women like me serve only one purpose for men like him. And not the fairy-tale kind.

I should know. If wealthy men thought differently, I’d have a father.

Abuelita’s face creases and she stands up. She limps to me and puts her arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Eva. I didn’t want to criticize you. You already have so much weight on your young shoulders.”

She must have assumed that mentioning my mother’s death fazed me. I don’t want Abuelita to feel guilty. “It’s not that. I’m just thinking about how annoying rich people can be.”

And how puzzling. And attractive. No, I didn’t even think this last one. Or at least not consciously.

My grandmother lowers her glasses slightly on her nose and peeks at me from above them. “Eva Flores. Why would you say such a thing? Did something happen yesterday night? Did you meet someone?”

“No, nothing happened. I didn’t meet anyone worth mentioning.”

Except a billionaire who thought he could dazzle me. Well, he didn’t.

Abuelita pulls down the droopy skin below her left eye with a finger. “Careful, my dear. I know you better than you think. You can’t lie to me.”

“Lie? Who lied?” My sister’s high-pitched voice mixes with my little brother’s squeaks as they dash to us.

“I know, I know. Eva lied, Eva lied,” Juan recites in a sing-song voice. His mantra catches on with Espie, and soon they’re dancing in a circle, chanting, “Eva lied.” The parquet creaks beneath the drumming rhythm of their feet.

“No, I did not.” I raise my voice to put an end to their foolish cheering and step over to them. “Abuelita only misunderstood something.”

My grandmother purses her lips. “Sure, but your comment about well-off men is still dubious.”

I didn’t even say men. I said people. Why did Abuelita immediately assume I was talking about guys?

Espie pushes herself between me and our grandmother, raising her pointy nose in the air. “What’s the matter with