Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (i read book txt) 📕

quantum physics. Then why am I acting like it is? It can’t be just my eagerness to secure my victory and prove Mother and Murphy wrong, can it?

My phone rings.

Maybe it’s Eva to confirm our date. Last night, she wasn’t sure she could make it, since she needs to work tonight.

I reach for it so briskly that the top folders tumble to the floor, scattering typed pages all over my hand-crafted Nordic Knots rug.

But when I hit answer, it’s only a video call from Zach.

My lawyer friend and I go way back. When I worked at AMEA’s office in the Big Apple, I consulted him on some of my cases. His genial advice consistently helped me to secure more advantageous conditions on my agreements, convincing me that Zach wasn’t only a sharp-minded, fun-loving person who shared my enthusiasm for climbing, but also an excellent lawyer. So I’d hired him to run my contracts before moving back to the headquarters in San Sebastian to ascend the corporate ladder.

“What’s up, Nate? I’m calling to finalize the details of the Richmond and Green case. Your suggestion about the remote-work clause went through perfectly with their attorney.”

It was Eva’s suggestion, really. And after what I’ve seen this morning with Rachel, I probably shouldn’t be surprised that her advice worked on this other matter, too. She might not be an expert in business consulting, but she sure has good insights when it comes to people.

“Is this a good time to speak?” Zach asks, when I still haven’t greeted him.

I position my phone on top of the remaining files on my table. “Well, I’m sort of busy, mate. Can we do a raincheck on this?”

“Busy with what? Don’t tell me you landed another client since we’ve last spoken?” Zach shakes his head in a half-disapproving, half-admiring way. “You’re going all-in with impressing your mother before that promotion, huh? Old Larry won’t be able to keep up with your speed.”

A sudden idea occurs to me.

Maybe fate is giving me a sign by making Zach ask about my promotion? Perhaps I should tell my friend about the challenge Murphy put me up against. Spilling the beans to someone I trust, and who knows me for what I am, could clear my head and drag me back to reality. Zach will surely understand why I accepted to play Romeo. He’s as savvy as it gets, plus it’s in his best interest that I become CEO. If I were to lead our company, his firm would likely become the exclusive legal supplier to AMEA.

As I narrate for Zach the events of the past four days, he listens to me with his jaw slack.

After I finish, I raise my brows. “So what’s your take on it?”

Zach bends toward the camera, grinning. “You danced salsa? Are you serious? Oh, man. I’m sorry I missed that. Were you hilarious or what?”

His tone is so shrill, I tune down the volume on my phone. I don’t want my secretary or anyone walking past by my office to overhear what I did last night, especially not in my friend’s mocking tone.

Why didn’t I just leave out Mamacita from my story?

“Zach, could you please focus on the rest?” I wrinkle my forehead, barely able to hide my annoyance. “I’ve told you about the bet because I’m having trouble with my workload in the office while juggling my courting act. I’d appreciate some useful tips on regaining productivity, instead of you making fun of my dancing skills. That are—for the record—much better than you would think.”

Zach bobs his head. “Okay, if you say so. But then this Eva must be an exceptionally good teacher. Last I checked, you have the sense of rhythm of an old shoe.”

My neck prickles at his words.

The more we speak about the memory of last night, the more the bliss I had with Eva threatens to sidetrack my thoughts—which is exactly the opposite of what I hoped to get out of this exchange with Zach. I need to kill this topic right now. “Zach Powell, stop mocking my dancing talent. You’re on the right path for me to regret that I’ve ever befriended you.”

“You didn’t befriend me, Nate. We’ve just spent so many hours together at work that we unavoidably got to know each other.” He winks, while his lips stretch further toward his ears.

“All the more reason for you to quit joking about my moves, or the presumed lack of them.”

Zach puts up his hands. “Okay, ragged-foot John. Since when are you so touchy?”

Touchy?

I’m not touchy. I’m just a little…mhmm, irked…but if I’m honest, I’m not even sure it has anything to do with my friend’s cheeky comment. Most likely nothing. After all, I’m not planning to audition for the next Dirty Dancing remake. Then why does this whole chat make me feel like I have one nerve left and Zach is jumping on it?

As if my friend is just arriving to the same conclusion, he asks, “Why are you this tense, buddy? You said the bet is your only option to convince your mother which, between us, I find rather hilarious. But, hey, your family has always been kinda whacky, hasn’t it?”

Zach’s choice of words lures a small smile from my contracted facial muscles. My friend is a son of a firefighter, and despite not following in his father’s footsteps, he’s still a down-to-earth, pragmatic person with a wicked sense of humor.

“Murphy is convinced this bet will either bring out my hidden potentials with people, or show evidence that I don’t have any.”

Zach cocks his head to the side. “I quite fancy Murphy. He’s a good guy, pretty solid. But he’s also your younger brother. It could be that this wild goose chase he sent you on with the girl is his—”

“Exactly, my thinking. I…” I interrupt, but stop as the meaning of his words settle in. “Wait, what? Wild goose chase? What is that supposed to mean? Do you think I’ll lose the bet or what?”

Does Zach believe I’m