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) 📗

black-market shipment from Europe. But in only a month, Audi will start to roll out this gem in our country too. Want to take a closer look?”

“Yes.”

Laia speaks again, but the guy pretends it was me. He puts a hand on my shoulder, guiding me toward the stage.

As we step closer, the rotation stops. The salesman climbs up and waves for me to follow him.

Laia stands there with her lips pressed into a line. It’s clear she dislikes the way the man is ignoring her.

“Ladies first.” I smile at Laia and hold my hand out to her.

Though she isn’t wearing heels, but flat sandals, the podium is much higher to her than it is to me.

Laia’s lips curl up, and she takes my hand. She lands on the stage with an agile jump.

I try not to focus on how her blue jeans tighten around her hips as she moves, but even with my best effort, I forget my eyes on her curvy lines a second too long. Just enough time for my heart to give a beat out of sync.

While I get on to the stage myself, I begin to fear something is seriously wrong with me. I’ve known numerous women, but none, including Morgan, has ever messed with my cardiac rhythm as far as I can remember.

Maybe I’m having a relapse of my childhood condition? That would explain my unusual shortness of breath.

If it’s not that, then…then that would mean that I’m beginning to desire my assistant.

Could this be the reason I gave permission to Laia’s friend to date Howard?

The salesman finally decides to give Laia some attention and smiles at her. “What do you think, miss? Are you picturing this all-season family hauler in your house? You could drive your kids to soccer practice in it. I assure you, all the other moms would be totally envious.”

A deep purple spread on Laia’s cheeks.

I don’t know whether Laia feels uneasy because Richard assumes we’re a couple planning a family, or if she’s bothered that he thinks her only interest in this vehicle is to show off in front of soccer moms.

The phrase that Laia said about being used to people talking down to her pops into my mind, and I curse myself for not exploring her puzzling statement any further.

I expect Laia to correct Richard’s misconception, but she surprises me by giving the guy a flat-lined smirk.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I have in mind,” she replies.

What? 

Laia seemed irritated when I insinuated to Morgan that she was my girlfriend. And now she’s accepting that a salesman has us married? Isn’t she going to negate that we’re in a relationship?

The fact that Laia goes along with this roleplay puts a smile on my lips. I grin at her and wiggle my brows to show that I’m game.

When she exchanges my gesture with a wicked smile, I know she’s plotting to grill poor Richard a bit.

The sight of the unexpected naughtiness in her irises makes me question why I used to think tall, blonde women were the prettiest. Brunettes and tiny frames are way more appealing.

“Are you sure, honey, that this wagon will be large enough for us?” I ask Laia, then shoot an apologetic glance to the salesman. “We only have one boy for now, but we’d like to have a large family.”

Laia struggles to keep a straight face but tops my comment by adding, “Yeah, a bit like The Brady Bunch. Though I suppose, for the first few years, this car could be okay.”

Richard’s tense face smooths out. “You won’t find a better one in this entire car show.”

Laia points at the engine and bats her lashes, as if she can’t count to two. “How fast can this vehicle go?”

Richard caresses the car’s top. “The performance is bewildering. I don’t want to annoy you with exact numbers, but let’s just say you’ll feel like you’re in a race car.”

Laia bobs her head and pretends to murmur just to herself, but her voice is loud enough for us to hear. “Audi quoted a 0-62 mph sprint of 3.5 seconds and a 0 to 124 mph run of 12 seconds, but with the top speed being electronically limited to 155 mph…it’s not race car range.” She peers up at Richard. “But if we got an optional carbon-ceramic brake package, we could up that limit to 190 mph, right?”

Richard stares at her, too flabbergasted to even say a word.

I chuckle and pat the salesman on his arm. “Don’t take it personally, Richard. My wife can put any man in his place when it comes to cars. That’s why I make her decide any time we invest in a new ride.”

Richard’s eyes fill with new respect, and he begins to explain the cylinder specifications, price packages, and all optional benefits to Laia.

After a thorough presentation, where all Richard’s efforts are focused on Laia instead of me, we wave good-bye.

Laia giggles as we leave Richard’s stand behind. “Oh, that was fun. Do you think he believed that we didn’t purchase because we’re waiting for the ultra-exclusive 25th Anniversary Edition to come out?”

“I think he realized he was dealing with a real aficionado in your person. When you said you adored the bright Nogaro Blue in which those vehicles will be painted, he probably bought your fib.”

Laia’s expression turns somber. “Oh, by the way, I’m sorry I invented that whole story about our wedding taking place at the Monaco Grand Prix. Or even having said that you and I were a couple.”

I stop and reach for her elbow. I turn her to me. “Don’t apologize. I had as much fun as you did. You weren’t the first one who pretended that we’re more than just a boss and his assistant. But we aren’t more…or are we?”

Laia startles me by saying. “Well, maybe we are.”

Her eyes lock with mine, and there’s a shy smile on her lips.

My mouth turns dry.

So she, too, feels this magnetism between us?

“Yeah.” I hit the most seductive tone I can muster, despite the