Law #2: Don't Play with a Player: A Sweet Office Romance Story (Laws of Love)

by Agnes Canestri

  I mistook the sense of pride that came from being with Morgan for a sense of bliss. I thought I cared for her deeply, but I never felt at ease with her like I do with Laia. I didn’t admire her soul or share her same interests.

  I was wrong to ever propose to her. We would have never been happy together. Under this light, I’m lucky Morgan cheated on me. And even more fortunate I found out about her affair before we could tie the knot.

  This realization makes me give Morgan a warm smile. I have no reason to hold a grudge with her.

  “It’s probably just a busy period for your husband. You have that in any business. But concerning us, no worries. It’s all in the past. We can start with a clean slate. I’m not mad at you for what happened with Theo.”

  And I’m not.

  All trace of past resentment is gone. My love for Laia burned it all.

  Morgan beams at me. “A fresh start? Go, figure. It’s just what I have been thinking about ever since I read that article about you in True Facts. And this hotel could be just the right setting for that.”

  “For what exactly?” I ask.

  Morgan rolls her eyes. “For our new beginning, silly. Don’t tell me our coincidental meeting wasn’t the reason you dialed back on clubbing? The timing is eerily perfect. Did seeing me make you realize that flings weren’t what you wanted?”

  She fiddles with her earlobe, but it doesn’t come across as if she were genuinely flustered.

  I’m not surprised Morgan is aware of my latest tabloid article. She already slipped that she follows gossip about me when she admitted back in the teahouse that she knew I was attending CCF.

  What I didn’t expect, however, is for Morgan to jump to such an erroneous conclusion about my feelings.

  I rub my neck, trying to find a polite way to tell her that her happiness isn’t my concern anymore.

  I level her gaze. “Morgan you’re a married woman and I—”

  Morgan dismisses my words with a wave of her manicured hands.

  “Marriages can be undone. I haven’t been happy with Theo for years now. Perhaps never as happy as I was with you.” She gives me a coy smile. “Dev, don’t think I didn’t see through your lie in the teahouse. That girl you were with? Her laptop bag and clothes told me the story. She isn’t your girlfriend. A colleague or an assistant, maybe? You wanted me to believe you two were dating so I’d get jealous.”

  “That wasn’t my intention. I’m not after a second chance with you.”

  Morgan’s eyes widen, and for the first time, she looks uneasy. Then she shakes her head. “Of course. I didn’t expect that we’d hit it off here in the reception. Too many years have passed. We need more time to reconnect. Don’t worry, we’ll have the occasion to do that. This morning when I arrived, I switched the suite Theo booked for me for the room beside yours.”

  A lightbulb goes up in my head.

  “Are you the lady with the fear of heights? Doesn’t Theo own a penthouse?”

  “Okay, I might not suffer from anxiety attacks on the top floor, but the room beside yours was already assigned to someone, so I needed a good excuse to convince the receptionist. She was a woman,” she adds with a one-shoulder shrug as if to show that, had it been a man, no fibs would have been necessary.

  Which is probably true. Morgan can always get what she wants with men. But not with me, not anymore.

  “Did you even bother to ask whose room you were taking?”

  “What does it matter? It’ll be far easier to spend time together if we sleep in adjacent rooms. You’re here alone, and I’m here alone, so we—” She stops, and her eyes zero in on something behind my back.

  I whirl around, and Laia’s perplexed expression greets me. She holds her laptop bag clutched to her chest, and her eyes bounce between my face and Morgan’s.

  “Devon, I’m sorry it took so long,” she mumbles. “Hi, Morgan, nice to see you again.”

  From her tone, I can decipher that she isn’t particularly thrilled about seeing my ex. I pray that her annoyance is fueled by her growing feelings for me.

  Morgan narrows her eyes at Laia. “Hi.” Then she turns to me. “You didn’t say that your colleague is here too.”

  “Laia and I came to the event together, yes.” I try to pronounce my phrase casually so I don’t startle Laia with its deeper meaning, but with enough emphasis for Morgan to understand that whatever plans she had for us won’t happen.

  I’m not sure if Morgan understands my point, but she swallows and nods. “I need to go now. Let’s continue this later, Devon.” With this enigmatic promise, she prances off.

  “So, uhm…” Laia clears her throat. “Your ex decided to show up for the event, after all? And I see she knows that we work together.”

  There’s a cool timbre to her voice as if the appearance of Morgan has washed away all intimacy that had sprouted between us. Panic seizes my belly as I realize Morgan’s presence could undermine my efforts.

  I capture Laia’s gaze. “I didn’t know Morgan would be here. She came here without her husband because…I don’t know. Maybe she needed a five-star spa treatment. Frankly, I don’t care why she’s here.”

  “Right,” Laia murmurs, but her mouth presses into a line of disbelief.

  “No, seriously, I don’t. I’ve gone through some soul-searching, and I realized my relationship with Morgan went down exactly as it should have. No correction.” I lift my finger as Laia’s mouth opens. “I shouldn’t have asked her to marry me in the first place, but since I did, it was just as well that our engagement went up in flames.”

  Laia’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

  “Very.” I nod. “Now, please, let’s ignore that this conversation ever happened. The gala is in a few hours, and I’d like to show you the property before we need to get ready. I suggest we find our rooms, drop off our luggage, and go for a walk.”

  Laia eyes me with a questioning look as if she can’t decide whether she should insist on the subject of Morgan or not. Then her lips curl up. “Okay, let’s go for a tour. I spotted some giant Saguaro cactuses while waiting for the valet outside, and I’d love to admire them closer.”

  Chapter 38

  (Laia)

  I pull the clips from my hair with a discouraged sigh.

  I wish Chelsea were here. Or Eva…

  That was my third try at a twisted up-do, but I’m giving up. I can’t tame my mane into any style other than a ponytail, a braid, or a messy bun on my own, and none of those hairstyles are worthy of the fantastic dress my roomie picked for me.

  Maybe I should leave my tresses loose?

  I glance into a mirror to check and run my fingers on the skirt’s fabric, which is slippery and soft.

  Yes, not bad at all. I actually like what I’m seeing, which is a rare happening for me.

  The silhouette of this dress plays up my strong features as Chelsea anticipated it would, while it also graciously hides almost everything I feel unsure about.

  Let’s hope Devon will like it, too.

  Faint music reaches my ear, and I walk to my private balcony and peer outside. I must be in the wing located just above the gala hall because the jazzy tunes floating from below are exceptionally clear.

  Despite the upgrade—and boy, if my suite isn’t fabulous! Starting with the indigenous-inspired textiles, the amazing natural materials and earth tones, and ending with the magnificent canyon view I can enjoy from my terrace, it’s all like in a dream—I was sorry when Devon announced that we’re sleeping on different floors.

  I’d already started to fantasize about how it would be to sleep, knowing that just a thin wall separated us.

  The rational part of me, however, knows that some breathing space from Devon is a blessing. I still don’t know what he wants from me, and even if I have my hopeful suspicions, it’s better to safeguard as much clarity as possible when we’re together.

  Especially now that his ex-fiancée has turned up in the hotel without her husband.

  Devon s
eemed sincere when he said he didn’t care about Morgan being here. Still, her presence disturbs the blossoming confidence in my chest.

  The melody from downstairs changes to a groovier rhythm, and its upbeat tone lifts my mood.

  I raise my chin and let my eyes feast on the lush greenery below.

  Besides the Wild Burrow Canyon, my suite also faces the hotel’s garden. Although calling it simply a garden doesn’t do justice to the enormous green landscape that hosts an extended parterre, a life-size chess set, and a beautiful rose field. They must invest a lot of time and considerable resources to keep these plants alive despite the heat and dryness of the surrounding desert.

  Memories from our stroll in the park surface in my mind, and my pulse immediately pumps harder in my veins.

  Our afternoon was magical. Devon showed me the surrounding area on foot, and we also made a quick drive to visit a nearby spring. We spoke and joked like real friends, but there were definitely sizzles between us.

  I can’t wait to see how tonight will evolve.

  With this thought in mind and nerves dancing a jig in my stomach, I hurry back into my room.

  I slip on my sandals, the only genuinely high-heeled pair I possess. I’ve had them for a long time, but it’s the first time I’m actually wearing them.

  Should I happen to dance with Devon—which I may or may not have fantasized about this afternoon—I’d like to be able to peer up at him without straining my neck.

  My feet waver as I find my balance on the beige carpet. If I really can’t stand the pain in my toes later tonight, I can always sneak upstairs and change into my flats.

  I exit my room and head toward the elevator, while I pre-savor the vision of how I’ll lean on Devon’s arm and sway to a romantic song with him.

  Chapter 39

  (Devon)

  I enter the large hall hosting the gala and scan the crowd for Laia.

  Respecting the event’s laid-back style, and emphasizing the spirit that creative people aren’t stuck-up businessmen, there aren’t any fixed table arrangements. Instead, the hotel created a large sitting corner from comfy leather couches and plush armchairs. There are low stands scattered around, where one can easily place the food that is served in the sumptuous buffet lining the wall next to the entrance.

  Laia isn’t anywhere.

  I’d considered walking up to her room and knocking before coming downstairs, but then I recalled how Ellie used to hate being rushed when dressing.

  The ambiance lighting in the room is a mélange of bright pink and silver spotlights. It harmonizes with the open bar’s design, which has a large shelf filled with sleek candles in the shade of cotton candy.

  The barman is busy mixing cocktails, all his movements visible thanks to the counter’s glass planes.

  My eyes drift further because I’m not looking for a drink, nor do I want to offer one to Laia.

  She was the most adorable tipsy person, and I liked the bold, uninhibited way she spoke to me, but I’d prefer to achieve the same ease in her without the help of an external substance. Using only my words and actions.

  There’s a large but relatively low stage close to the terrace door, and the musicians are already playing.

  I’m happy about the choice the organizers made. The members of Pale Blue Mornings are talented folks. I had the pleasure of listening to them one night at Jimmy’z. I’m sure they’ll delight us with relaxing blues and jazz songs—just the kind Laia and I like.

  That’s, if she finally gets here…

  Someone taps my shoulder, and my heart jumps into my throat.

  There she is…

  An almost foolish smile spreads on my face but freezes on my lips when I turn.

  “Ah, Morgan. It’s just you.”

  Disappointment drips from my voice, and it doesn’t miss Morgan’s attention.

  “Just me?” Morgan lifts a brow. “Who were you hoping it was? That mousy colleague of yours?”

  “What right do you have to call her mousy?” I snap.

  Morgan shrugs. “Because she’s dull, isn’t she? I wonder what she’ll put on tonight. Probably a pantsuit or something.”

  She adjusts her strapless black evening gown that has a steep cut on one thigh. She’s the only female in the room who upgraded the casual cocktail dress code into a white-tie event.

  “Whatever Laia wears, she’ll look lovely in it,” I answer.

  Morgan cocks her head to the side and observes me. “Huh, so I got it wrong, didn’t I?”

  She certainly did—many things. I just don’t know which one she’s referring to. “What do you mean?”

  “That tabloid article. It wasn’t telling the truth. You didn’t give up your lifestyle. You brought along your co-worker for some extra-curricular activity. I didn’t realize you had a fetish for the boss-employee setup.”

  Her words bug me because they are partially correct, though not in the sense Morgan means.

  I have no desire to discuss my feelings for Laia with Morgan, so I shake my head. “It’s none of your business why Laia is here. The only thing you should deduce from her presence is that whatever you imagined would happen between us in this resort, will not occur.”

  A vexed glint invades Morgan’s eyes, and I wonder for a second whether my words were too blunt. But she really irritated me with her dismissive remarks about Laia.

  She sniffs. “You know, Devon, it might be time for you to come down from your moral high horse. I might have hooked up with your buddy in college, but at least I married the guy. I’m not an egoist playboy like you.”

  Before I can interject that only this afternoon she said that she was ready to blow up her marriage, Morgan turns on her heels and rushes out of the room.

  I stride over to the bar, hop up on a barstool, and order sparkling water.

  As I watch the bubbles rise to the surface in my glass, Morgan’s last words swirl in my head.

  I used to protect my conscience by telling myself I wasn’t hurting anyone as long as I was transparent with my partners about what they could expect. That I could do no harm, because I never pretended to want anything more than what I was capable of giving.

  But perhaps my ex is right.

  I was selfish. I focused on what I wanted. I never bothered to question what would be best for the women I dated.

  With Laia, I can’t make the same mistake.

  Where is she, anyway? I hope she didn’t get lost.

  “Why are you looking so grumpy?”

  Laia’s voice jars me out of my self-doubt. She stands beside me with a concerned expression.

  Her dulcet timbre acts like a spell, dissolving the dark cloud of worry at once.

  Morgan’s comment about Laia’s dress couldn’t have been farther off. Laia looks absolutely breathtaking in her flared skirt and tight bodice with a sober but still charming neckline. The light shade of blue accentuates her skin’s glow and sparkles against the dark cascade of her hair.

  “You’re…pretty. Very, very pretty.”

  Laia blushes. “Thanks. But it’s Chelsea who found this dress for me, so I can’t take credit for it.”

  “Maybe not for the dress, but the rest is all you. And that’s the most important part. The part I like the most.”

  Her jaw drops, and an alarmed glint invades her gaze.

  Oh, perhaps I need to go slower with these kinds of compliments. I don’t want to scare her off.

  I pick up my glass and take a sip. The cold water eases my throat.

  “Do you want me to order you anything?” I ask, pretending my previous comment wasn’t a confession at all.

  “No, I’m fine. You remember my bubbly accident, don’t you?”

  “They have plain water, too,” I point at my drink, but she shakes her head again.

  “No, I’m really okay, Devon, thanks.”

  I wave to the band. “Do you like these guys? They’re awesome.”

  The singer is singing “Ain’t Misbehavin’” from LeRoy Holm
es, and her deep contralto reverberates in the air around us.

  “Yes, they’re great. Since the reception mixed up your booking, I could listen to them while I got ready. Would you like to dance?” Laia’s voice is filled with an anxious undertone.

  I’d love to be carried away by the singer’s sensual voice while Laia leans against my chest, but I can see Laia’s unease.

  She really didn’t lie when she told Ellie she isn’t a dancer…

  I decide to propose something different.

  I point to the terrace door. “I’d prefer to take a walk in the garden.”

  A soft whoosh of air leaves her lips as her mouth moves into a surprised oh. “Sure, okay. Go. I’ll…I’ll just see what’s at the buffet and then—”

  Does she think I want her to stay?

  “I meant you and me. Together.” I stand up and shake my legs as if to prove that they indeed need some movement.

  Laia’s brows move into a confused frown. “Oh, right. Okay, sure…I can come with you if you like.”

  “Let’s go then.” I grin at her and put a hand between her shoulder blades.

  Chapter 40

  (Laia)

  The evening air’s flowery scent wraps me in a protective embrace, as I step from the terrace onto the garden’s pebbly road.

  It grants me a brief break from my frustration of not understanding Devon’s behavior.

  “Where would you like to go? Toward the rose garden where we went this afternoon? Or the small pond on the other side of the chessboard?”

  Devon’s voice comes from much closer than expected. His hot breath rakes my skin with a tempting pleasure, freezing my brain cells.

  I take a second before I turn and peer up at him.

  “We can go wherever you want.” I aim for my voice to sound lighthearted and score on the medium-high end of the success scale. “It’s you who needs to loosen up your legs.”

  Devon points to the left. “Then let’s go to the roses.” He stretches his arm toward me. “You want to lean on me?”