Law #2: Don't Play with a Player: A Sweet Office Romance Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (web ebook reader .txt) 📕

“Very well,” she answers.

After a click, Wyatt’s familiar baritone greets me. “Hey, mate. What’s up?”

I lean back in my chair and swirl it around so that I can look at the landscape from my window while I chat with him.

Along with Pete, Wyatt is my best friend. The three of us were very tight in high school. If Wyatt hadn’t been drafted by the NFL and moved away from Arizona, we would still be hanging out together most of the time.

“All is good here, Wyatt. How come you called the office and not my cell phone?”

“I might have misplaced my phone at the last training. That, or an overly enthusiastic groupie snatched it for a souvenir. Anyway, I lost your number.” Wyatt’s hearty chuckle resounds in my ear.

“I see. And I thought you were too busy even in the off-season to return my calls. Which I would totally understand. Training must come first.”

There is a short silence on the line, then Wyatt sniffs. “Ah, yeah, the coach made us sweat like pigs in the mini-camp. But that’s not why I’ve been a ghost. I’m having some problems with the team.”

“Problems? Want to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

Typical. When my friend is interested in something, he pesters me as long as needed. His persistence is one of his strengths on the gridiron.

But trying to do vice versa with him never works. It’s as if Wyatt believes he’s allowed to tackle everyone else, but he never wants to be on the ground—literally and metaphorically.

“Fine, I hope you can resolve the issue. But if you need a hand, let me know.” I know better than to press Wyatt on something he doesn’t want to share. “So what about today? Did you happen to miss me awfully? Or is there another reason that you rang me up?”

To my surprise, Wyatt replies, “Actually, yes. Is your accountant’s villa still available? The one in Glendale. You mentioned that he wanted to sell it some time ago.”

“Mike’s house? Yep, it’s still there. With the stellar price he’s asking for it, I doubt he’ll find any fool to buy it. Why?”

Wyatt chuckles. “He might just find one person. Me.”

“You’re kidding, right? Why would you buy a property in the Phoenix area? You’re never in Arizona. I’ve seen you like three times in the past four years. Almost as if you’ve avoided coming anywhere near Kingman.”

I regret this last phrase as soon as it’s out.

I know Wyatt took good care of his mother, setting her up in a beautiful mansion that everyone in our hometown admires. The fact that he rarely visits has more to do with the broken relationship he had with his father and the ghosts that still haunt him than with anything else.

“Well, that might have been true in the past. I’ll definitely come and visit this summer. Also, there’s a vague possibility I’ll be spending more time in the Valley of the Sun later. So, just in case that happens, I want to be prepared. You know I hate staying in hotels even for short times. Your accountant’s house is in a quiet neighborhood. That’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Quiet neighborhood, huh? The fact that it’s close to the State Farm Stadium doesn’t come into consideration?”

Wyatt snorts. “I can neither confirm nor deny this.”

A grin spreads on my face. I would love nothing more than for Wyatt to move back home. “Well, I’ll be happy if you pop over. Pete and I miss your beach-boy grin. Watching you on television isn’t the same thing.”

“That’s because I wear a helmet,” Wyatt interjects. “Anyway, will you talk to Mike for me?”

“Sure, consider it done.”

“Great, going through an acquaintance will save me the hassle of contracting sleazy real estate agents. They’d only try to woo me with posh high-rises. I know you live in one of those condos, so no offense.”

“None taken.”

Wyatt might be a pro football player, but he’s still a small-town boy at heart.

The ridiculous sum Mike is asking for his property comes to mind, and I quickly correct my thought—a small-town boy with a massive budget at his disposal.

Wyatt clears his throat. “How is Ellie doing?”

“Fine. Busy like a bee, as always. Why do you ask?”

My question is justified. Wyatt and my sister have a tense relationship, and that’s putting it mildly.

Cats and dogs get along better than those two. In fact, as far as I know, they haven’t even spoken since Wyatt started playing for the Kites.

I don’t know the exact reason for their clash, but it dates back to Ellie’s freshman year in college. I’ve never wanted to end up in the middle of their conflict, so I just mostly avoid mentioning their names to each other.

After a short silence, Wyatt coughs. “Just that I recently met someone who reminded me of her.”

“Did she have loads of freckles and was cheeky as heck?”

“Along those lines,” Wyatt murmurs in a pensive voice, then quickly adds, “And you? Anything new on the horizon? You and Pete still hunt every night?”

“Pete, definitely. Me, less and less.”

“Getting tired of the mindless fun with ladies, Dev?”

“Something like that.” I chuckle, but I realize that what I’m saying is actually true.

“Well…” Wyatt’s voice sounds surprisingly somber all of a sudden. “I couldn’t agree with you more. My teammates, especially the rookies, are delighted with the groupies we get at the games, but I can’t seem to find the pleasure in something so superficial.”

“You never could, Wyatt. You’re too darned focused. Football is your real mistress. I bet there has never been a woman who could distract you from your goal of becoming NFL Man of the Year.”

There’s silence on the phone, then Wyatt makes an awkward snort. “Yes, indeed. Anyway, back to you. Is your new, mature self still looking for someone who can cure the hole your treacherous ex left in your heart? Or did you find her already?”

Wyatt never liked Morgan. Which is probably the only thing that he and my sister ever agreed on.

“No, there’s