Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love)

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Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) Page 13

by Agnes Canestri


  “Let’s just say that Murphy and I appreciate different nuances in life.”

  “Okay, so what do you appreciate in life?” I point at the ostentatious building of the Flamingo Lake, visible on the horizon. “Would that be your thing if I weren’t with you?”

  “Whaaat? Heck, no.”

  The speed and indignant undertone with which he answers makes my heart leap. I didn’t seriously think Nathan would visit such a tastelessly posh venue of his own will, but it’s nice to have his confirmation anyway.

  “Then what is it?” I insist. “What are the places you usually go to? I know it’s probably not the Desert Rose-type either. You didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself there the other night.”

  Nathan adjusts his grip on the oars and shrugs. “I’m not much the going-out type.” His brows shift together for a second, then he adds hastily. “What am I saying? I shouldn’t describe myself as an all-work-no-fun person. I do go to fundraisers, family dinner parties, and so on…”

  An image of massive, tiered crystal chandeliers glittering in a soft light, and gold-edge china on white damask tablecloths fills my mind. I cringe as I recall Mamacita’s tacky decoration that consists of printed landscapes in plastic frames. Here, drifting on the lake, it’s easy to forget that Nathan and I come from universes that lie far apart. Why is that? Could it be that, despite our obvious differences, we have more in common than I assumed?

  I smile. “That sounds exciting. You’ve a busy life then. I’m not that much of a party-girl. I might go out once every two months, always to the same crummy salsa place with my gals, but other than that, I prefer to stay in with my family.”

  A bark from the shore draws our attention.

  A Jack Russel has jumped in, and he’s paddling his way to us. When he gets to our boat, Nathan lifts him gently from the water. “There you go, buddy,” he murmurs, placing the dog between his legs. “Take a little break before you go back.”

  He strokes the dog’s fur with a loving gesture.

  I watch him, open-mouthed. “I didn’t figure you as an animal person.”

  “Oh, I’m not. But I do love dogs. Especially cute ones like this here.”

  Nathan doesn’t seem to mind that the dog got his shirt covered in giant moist spots, but the sight of the white fabric sticking to his chest like a second skin and highlighting his bulging pectorals makes me incredibly flustered. It’s like somebody had placed a giant magnifying glass above me and its concentrating the sunshine on the top of my head. At least this is the only reasonable way I can explain the eerie warmth I’m feeling.

  To hide my reaction, I bend forward and pat the animal too. My fingers brush against Nathan’s as we both caress the Jack Russel’s head. For a moment I go back in time and relive the first time I laid eyes on Nathan from the stage. I honestly couldn’t have imagined that, in a few days, I’d be sitting in a boat with him, enjoying a blissful moment cuddling a dog together.

  A whistle cuts through the air, and the animal stirs as if he’s ready to jump in the water again.

  “Ah, they’re calling you, right?” Nathan whispers to the dog, then releases him into the waves with care. The animal paddles back to his owners, an elderly couple, waiting on the shore. We both follow him with our eyes till he reaches them.

  “What a cute fellow.” Nathan chuckles. “He’s fast, too. Look, he’s already drying off.”

  “Well, he surely is a better swimmer than I am,” I say.

  Nathan’s eyes widen with alarm. “You can’t swim?” He bends forward and grips my knees with a protective gesture. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  I’m not sure what startles me more, the preoccupation I hear in his voice, or the tingles racing through my legs from his touch. “I didn’t want to spoil the boat trip for you. You seemed so happy about it.”

  “Seriously?” Nathan releases me and takes the oars once more as the boat begins to drift with the stream. “And I thought it would be a chance to show you that I can be more than a pre-programmed, boring guy. We could’ve just stayed on the terrace, too, if you preferred. I never wanted to make you feel unsafe.”

  “I don’t feel unsafe.” I smile. “You’re a good rower. Besides, you do know how to swim, right? You could save me.”

  “Yes, I did a few swimming competitions when I was younger,” he says, but the worried glint doesn’t leave his eyes. “You should have told me straight away that paddling on the lake isn’t a good idea.”

  “I didn’t want you to think I’m a freak. Everybody knows how to swim nowadays. Even my little sister, Espie.”

  Nathan glares at me as if I’m an alien. “I could never think that you’re a freak. The way I think of you is the exact opposite of that…” He stops, then his eyes travel to the water, hover on the waves, then move back to meet my gaze. “But I understand where you’re coming from. You see, earlier I bragged about going to fundraisers and all. It’s true that I sometimes do. But it’s not something I enjoy. I said it to salvage my image. I thought you wouldn’t be interested in a man as serious as I am.” He finishes off his confession with a smile that deepens his dimples.

  His words, together with the sight of his grin, turn my stomach upside down. I’m about to scold myself for my reaction when I remember Laia’s advice. I’m not one hundred percent sure yet that I’m comfortable taking it, but I could give it a try just this once. So instead of suppressing the giddy sensation, I let it brew a little.

  The result is that my mind has the time to throw a myriad of questions at me. Could Nathan truly care this much about my opinion? If he does, what does it mean? If he doesn’t, why would he have said what he just did?

  I shake my head to summon some order into my brain. “No, Nathan. Please. If there’s any way you could ruin my growing interest in you, it’s if you start lying to me. So don’t pretend you’re something you’re not. And I won’t either.”

  Nathan’s Adam’s apple twitches.

  Shoot! He must be hung up on my dubious “growing interest.” Why did I admit that I’m getting more and more fascinated by him? Quick, I need to distract him. He mustn’t contemplate about my silly revelation too much. “Shall we go back and check on those cappuccinos? What do you think?”

  A sudden breeze sweeps over our boat, saturating the air with a thick perfume of orchids. It also catches in my hair, releasing a strand from my half-updo. The naughty black lock bounces in front of my eye.

  Nathan bends close and brushes it behind my ear. “Well, uhm…I think it’s a great idea.” But he doesn’t move. Instead, he stares at me with a penetrating gaze and adds, “So does that mean if I’m honest with you, you may give me a chance, despite the fact that I’m rich?”

  My fingers move to the spot where Nathan just touched my cheek. “Yes, I guess that’s what I’m saying.” I stop and bite my lower lip.

  I’ve said no pretend, but I’ll have to break my own rule now. Because no matter how good it feels to turn off my radar with Nathan, I still don’t dare to let him know that my barrier toward him is weakening.

  I lift my gaze and meet his grey eyes. “I’m ready to give us a chance to get to know each other and…become friends.”

  “Friends?” Nathan’s eyes widen, and his tone tells me this isn’t what he hoped I’d say. But he recovers quickly and gives me a smirk. “That’s…that sounds just…fine.” Then he withdraws his gaze from my face and starts to pull on the oars. “It’s best if we go back, as you said. I’ll feel safer if you are on solid ground once more.”

  I resist the temptation to shout, “Aye aye Cap’n,” just to pretend that I’m feeling jolly instead of sunken in chaos. “Yes, that would be nice.”

  We sit in silence as Nathan rows us back to the jetty.

  I observe his tight jaw, and a sensation of guilt forms in my belly.

  I know that Nathan isn’t after my friendship. That was clear to me from the first moment we met. But since I don’t know precisely what his intentions are, I’m not brave
enough to offer him anything else. He might be acting differently than I expected after our first encounter. I’m conscious of the efforts he makes to put me at ease. And, yes, his behavior is changing something in me.

  However, I’m still too scared that I’m just enticing to him, because I’m playing hard to get…because I’m an unattainable goal. The bolder part of me tells me I’m too paranoid, but my cautious self disagrees. I’m more comfortable trusting this latter voice. It has saved me from several dangers in the past. And judging by the hammering in my chest, I’ve never been in a situation more risky than I’m in now with this handsome billionaire.

  Chapter 16

  (Nathan)

  Friends? Oh man, this is the worst tag ever.

  I’m still chewing on Eva’s words as we sit back at our table on the Swan Lake’s terrace.

  The waitress has already served our cappuccinos and Eva is mindlessly turning the spoon in her cup, her gaze lost on the horizon.

  Could she really have meant what she said? Was it a mistake to declare myself good with her squeezing me into this darned friend box? Perhaps I should’ve told her straight up that it isn’t her friendship I want.

  No, that would’ve only caused her to raise her guard. I’m sure of it. But agreeing to be just pals didn’t get me further with my goal of making her my girlfriend either.

  I contemplate the possibility that Eva is only interested in my friendship, but something feels off. I’m submersed in sparks each time we even slightly touch. She must feel those, too. I’ve seen how flustered she gets when our gazes lock for longer than necessary.

  But then why is she still so stubbornly opposed to me? Is it still my social status that stands in my way? I decide to explore further. “Eva, why is it that you—?”

  “Why is what?” she asks, alarmed, her eyes darting to mine.

  “Why do you have such negative feelings about rich men? I’m not asking about me in particular. But guys with money in general.”

  Eva presses her lips together, and I think she won’t answer. Then she does. “I’ve told you that I never knew my biological father.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “What I didn’t say is that he left my mother as soon as he learned she was pregnant.

  What a jerk! I almost spill my cup as I slam my rolled fist on the table. “Sorry,” I murmur. What the heck is wrong with me? Why is my blood suddenly on fire? Eva must be wondering the same thing, because she eyes me with her brows raised. I suck in a breath and say, “It’s just that hearing how your father treated you, how you were abandoned…I…it made me angry. If I ever had a daughter, even if I didn’t want to be with her mother, I would never refuse to acknowledge my child.”

  Eva swallows. “Even if the baby’s mother was poor?”

  I’m starting to see what might have happened to make Eva hate wealthy men for life. “No, never. I think money, or the lack thereof, shouldn’t decide how you feel for someone. Especially when the person is your own blood.”

  “Well, then you are different from my father.” Eva gives me a weak smile.

  “He must be a big coward.”

  “Yes, probably. He was, or maybe still is, a very wealthy man. My mother met him when she worked as a receptionist in a five-star-hotel in Phoenix. The guy promised the stars and moon to her. But of course the only thing he wanted was…” She shrugs. “You know.” An expression of disgust makes her lips curl down.

  “I see. That must have made your mother wary about our kind.”

  “She taught me to be careful with men who think they can buy anything and anyone with their money.”

  “So you thought I was like your father when we first met?”

  She nods.

  “Do you still?” My voice couldn’t be more husky, and I try to blame it on my intention of sounding seductive, but I’m not entirely convinced that’s the case. I actually feel nervous asking this question. I hope with every fiber in my body that she will contradict me.

  “No. Or at least, I’m giving you the benefit of doubt,” she says, keeping her eyes locked with mine. “You know, as future friends.”

  My stomach churns, but this time it isn’t the fastidious friend tag she’s attached to us. I know that will come off eventually. I feel it in the intensity of her eyes as she stares at me.

  Then what’s my problem?

  You know it, Nathan. You know it very well.

  Unfortunately, I do. I told Aunt Marjorie that Eva wouldn’t get hurt from this bet. I believed this to be the case until now. But after what I’ve just heard, I’m not sure anymore. If I do manage to break down Eva’s defenses, and her heart softens for me, am I not betraying her trust? Isn’t it just as despicable as what her biological father did with her mother?

  In this instant, I know that if Eva ever discovers the bet, she’ll hate me for the rest of my life. When the time comes, I’ll need to make sure to end things nicely with her. It was my original intention anyway, but from now on I need to do everything in my power to avoid Eva ever learning the true motives behind my actions. Yes, and I’ll need to envisage concrete steps to compensate her. Maybe I could help them renovate that old house they live in? Or get them a new car?

  Ah, poor boy. Are you sure about this?

  The voice in my head sounds like my aunt’s. The soft tone is only mildly accusing. The compassionate edge is much stronger. As if it feels sorry for me.

  “Nathan?”

  Eva calling my name drags me out of my worries.

  “I’m sorry, Eva. I was just thinking about what you said. I’m happy you finally put your prejudices aside.”

  Eva shakes her head. “No, I think I might have been wrong to have them in the first place. Maybe my mother’s bitterness and my own sorrow about not having a father blinded to the fact that there are good and bad people everywhere—among the rich and among the poor.”

  Eva’s kindness and self-blaming is making me even more uncomfortable. There’s this bothersome sensation in my limbs, a sort of itch to reach out and caress Eva. It’s growing so strong, I have to press my hands to the table to prevent them from inching toward her fingers.

  Eva reaches back and pulls her hair into a ponytail. She twists the thick tresses around a few times, till they settle into a kind of messy low bun. Her new hairdo leaves her neck exposed, which in turn increases the prickles I feel.

  Eva takes a sip from her cappuccino and licks the foam from her lips. “I meant to ask you this, but somehow haven’t got around to it. You said you’re waiting on your promotion. When is that going to happen?”

  “We have an annual fundraiser ball this coming weekend. Mother wants to use it to make a big announcement about her retirement. After that, on Monday, she’ll announce to the board the newly appointed CEO’s name. Which will either be me or Larry, one of the other directors.” I add this last phrase in a casual tone, but it feels false to my ears.

  No wonder Eva picks up on it. “Ah? So you do have an opponent. How will your mother decide if it’s you or not?”

  Eva’s question takes me off guard, so instead of inventing a fib, I tell her the truth. “She gave me a test I need to pass.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in your office then, preparing for it?”

  Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut or invent a cover story? “It’s not that kind of test. Also, I’ve already put everything in action. So I have all the time in the world to be with you.”

  Eva looks relieved. “Ah, good. I hope you pass. It seems to be pretty important for you to become the CEO.”

  Eva, if you only knew…and it will all depend on you. I clear my throat. “Yes, it’s imperative. My father founded this company. It was his life mission, the thing he cared about the most. He always planned for me to take it over. I want to make sure it reaches its full potential.”

  Eva gives me a strange look. Her eyes are warm, but her lips press into a line.

  I’m not sure what to make of it, so I ask, “You can’t relate to what I’m s
aying?”

  Eva shakes her head. “No, it’s not that. I was just thinking that it’s tough to live up to the expectations of a deceased person.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that…” She chews on her lower lip as if choosing her words carefully. “You aren’t following your own dream. You’re bound to fulfill someone else’s. Someone who can’t even tell you that he might not expect you to do it.”

  A knot forms in my throat. “Mother accused me of the same thing when I joined the company. She said I wasn’t doing it for me, but for Father. She was happier with Murphy’s choice of studying something other than business. Except she was wrong. I want to become CEO.”

  The intensity of my voice is such that Eva’s face pales. “I’m so sorry, Nathan. I didn’t mean to sound judgy. I…”

  I regret my outburst immediately. Eva didn’t mean any harm, and I clearly scared her with my hostile tone. “Don’t worry. It’s easy to draw the conclusion that I’m following in my father’s footsteps because of a need to prove myself to a dead man—but I’m actually enjoying it. “

  “That’s great. You must be proud that your company helps so many industries and has the potential to improve so many lives. Your company already impacts so many inhabitants in San Sebastian. “

  I freeze. “This is an angle I hadn’t really contemplated,” I mumble.

  And it’s true. I get a thrill when I close a deal. I feel proud when the numbers confirm a strategical direction I initiated. Satisfied when the board members compliment me. But, somehow, I never focused on the good AMEA is doing to the world. Am I really leader-material if I only focus on my personal gains?

  Eva reaches out and pats my hand. “You surely will, once you become CEO. You just need to be ready to do everything to prove to your mother that she has no better choice than you. I know you can do it.” She gives my fingers a small squeeze then moves back.

  My palm is left with a warm tingling and my vision blurs. Eva doesn’t know what she’s really saying to me. She’s granting me permission to not feel guilty about what I’m doing with her. She’s telling me that she believes that I can achieve my goal. And from the gentle glint in her eyes that accompanied her words, I’m once again convinced that I can. If everything continues on this course, I’ll win this bet.

 

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