Law #2: Don't Play with a Player: A Sweet Office Romance Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (i am reading a book TXT) 📗

receive from him allows you to pay your hairstylist for this dazzling hair color you’re so proud of. Maybe showing more loyalty to him wouldn’t hurt you. Anyway, I don’t have time to chat about Devon’s alleged soft spot for blondes or his past adventures. I’m not interested in them.”

Fanta purses her lips. “I don’t believe you. Who wouldn’t care to know what her playboy bo—”

I shake my head and hold up my hand, suddenly realizing that the best strategy I can adopt with Ms. Soft Drink is to cut her short.

“Think whatever you want. The only thing I’m concerned with is doing an excellent job for Devon. That, right now, means preparing a coffee for him and then assisting Katja to make his CCF booking.”

“Oh? Devon is attending the CFF this year? Will he be going alone?” The eager glint makes Fanta’s close-set eyes push closer together, enhancing the foxlike effect.

Without answering, I turn back to the coffee machine to signal that this tête-a-tête is over.

Fanta sniffs. “Huh, so you like to play precious. Well, suit yourself.” She strides to the corridor. Before stepping out, she calls back in a haughty voice, “By the way, the water needs to be enabled for the machine to work. Everybody knows that.”

When she disappears, a growl escapes from my throat.

And here I thought that I would make my very first office friendship. It’s clear this arrogant blondie and I will never be friends. Her smug manners catapulted me back to memories that I hate to revisit—times when I felt inadequate and ridiculed.

I press my hand to my chest and suck in a breath.

It’s fine. I’m an adult now. I have a good life, a great bestie, a lovely family, and a job. I didn’t turn out to be the loser everyone thought I would become.

I might not have a relationship yet, but that’s because I don’t settle for mediocrity. I want a soul-stirring love with a man who truly deserves my heart. And that’s hard to find.

The thoughts about my singlehood bring back the puzzling rumors Fanta shared with me. Devon had seemed honest when he told me he doesn’t mix business and pleasure. Should I believe him?

Or should I trust Ms. Soft Drink’s gossip? Do those rumors even concern me?

After another calming breath, I decide that they don’t.

Whatever the truth is about Hayley, it doesn’t matter. I know Devon Griffin as a man isn’t at all what I want or need in my life.

But as a boss, he’ll make a significant impact on my future. The guy isn’t called a creative genius for nothing. I have so much to learn from him.

I don’t care if he had a fling with his former assistant. He surely won’t have anything with me.

And not only because I would never get involved with him, but also because, as Fanta had so aptly put it, there’s no chance Devon would ever notice me as a woman.

There. Question settled.

I reach around to the side of the coffee machine and make use of Fanta’s only helpful comment by switching on the lever that controls the water’s flow. I press the button with the cup and two lines, and this time the rattling sound is followed by a strong smell of coffee.

Soon the cup fills up with the brown liquid. I position it on a small plate when it’s ready. I add a spoon of sugar and hustle to the corridor, holding Devon’s drink straight in front of me.

Despite my resolution to stop mulling over Devon, my thoughts return to his remark about my ugly pantsuit.

Was Devon unconsciously afraid that he might not manage to keep his player self at bay? Is it why he picked a person—namely me—whom he knew he wouldn’t feel tempted by?

Katja’s voice interrupts me before I can idle any further about this.

“Where have you been for so long?” she asks, furrowing her brows.

“I needed a moment to find my way in the kitchen.”

“Really? Only that? Didn’t you stop to speak with someone?” She leans forward on her desk. Her lips are straight, and her eyes penetrating.

Holy moly, Katja can certainly look scary if she wants. 

Did she come to check on me while I was in the kitchen?

“I met a colleague from HR and introduced myself.” In case Katja saw me with Fanta, I don’t want her to think I slacked off and lied about it.

Katja nods. “Fine. Be warned, though, most people in our company are nice. But not all. Choose with whom you chitchat. Wisely…” She makes a dramatic pause, then points at the cup in my hand. “Now hurry up with that before it gets cold.”

“Oh, sure. Yes,” I mumble and trot over to Devon’s office.

Without knowing exactly why, I smooth down my blouse and run a hand through my hair before pushing his door open.

Chapter 10

(Devon)

“Wyatt Harrison is on line one. Would you like to take his call, Devon?”

The phone starts to slip as Laia’s melodious timbre surprises me. I squeeze it to my chin to keep it from falling.

I’ve been without a PA for a few weeks now, so Katja has been taking care of my personal calls. And my secretary’s raspy tone could never be described as musical, even with the best of intentions.

Laia’s voice elicits an odd sensation in my chest, almost as if my intercostal muscles have decided to contract all at once.

What the heck is wrong with me?

Is it still the aftermath of our encounter in the elevator? Maybe my shock about Laia’s new style hasn’t worn off yet. No, I can’t be this shaken that Laia turned out to be more of a looker than her dingy pantsuit suggested. I knew she was cute when I hired her, despite the ugly clothes.

But if it isn’t her new attire, then what is it?

“Devon? Do you want me to tell Mr. Harrison to call you back?”

Laia’s repeated question brings me back to reality.

“No need. Put him through, please. Also, when my call ends, I’ll be ready to look at