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

not sure what that was about. But I think you shouldn’t even care. The past is the past. That’s what I always tell the guys I date. You only need to focus on what’s happening between you and Devon and what might happen on this trip. Is your room going to be close to his?”

“Jeez, Chels.” I roll my eyes. “I have no idea. I didn’t speak to him about that. I only know we’re leaving tomorrow from the office and we’re supposed to be back Friday evening.”

I’m lying. Devon told me he booked two adjacent rooms for us.

But I don’t want to encourage my roomie’s fantasy about what I should do while in Tucson. She doesn’t seem bothered by the idea that Devon’s interest in me is only physical.

I place my hand on top of Chelsea’s head. “Anyway, I might be smitten with Devon, but I don’t want to get involved with him unless he feels the same way about me.”

Chelsea smacks her lips. “Laia, what you aspire to only happens in the movies. In real life, people meet, get together, hit it off—or don’t—and then they maybe develop profound feelings for each other.” She pokes me in the ribs. “Wouldn’t it be worth loosening up on your rules a little, given that you’re smitten with him?”

“No,” I murmur, but my tone is only half-convinced.

I would never want to sacrifice my values for a guy.

But if there is a man for whom I may risk doing precisely that, it’s Devon Griffin.

Chapter 37

(Devon)

“Oh, my!” A quiet gasp escapes from Laia’s throat as we enter the Paradise Point Four Seasons, Tucson’s best five-star plus resort.

I glance at Laia’s face and my chest warms.

She clenches her carry-on’s handle and scans the lobby with large eyes. The coffered ceiling has knife-edged planes fitted with LED strips. The yellow blouse she wears enhances the specks in her irises as the lighting reflects her gaze.

It’s an interesting sight, but not nearly as gripping as Laia’s enthusiastic face.

“It’s not too shabby, right?” I smile at her.

Tucked away amid the Sonoran Desert, this hotel was picked as the location for the CCF gala twice in the past five years. This isn’t surprising considering the beauty of the Tortolita Mountains that the resort’s outdoor venues overlook, and the luxurious yet modern feel its indoor spaces offer.

“Are you kidding?” Laia waves toward the custom-made reception desk that’s backed with a giant expressionist painting. “This place is fantastic. By far, the most gorgeous hotel I’ve ever been to. I love how it pairs glamour and contemporary implementation.”

“I’m so glad you like it,” I say.

And I am.

After all, I’ve booked us a three-day-long stay, despite suspecting that most event attendees will leave the next day after the gala. If I’m entirely honest, I actually counted on the participants’ early departure.

Small luxury establishments don’t accept overlapping events, so I expect the hotel to become quiet once the CCF’s crowd clears out. It’ll be an ideal location for some alone time with Laia.

CCF isn’t a critical business event where I need to focus on acquiring clients or brainstorming with fellow creatives. Instead, it’s a laid-back celebration of our profession, topped with great food and decent live bands. So I’ll be able to dedicate all my attention to Laia and make her see that I can be the man for her.

This trip is a chance to reveal my feelings to Laia. My only problem is she doesn’t know yet that there are no work activities planned for us, other than tonight’s gala. I haven’t found a way yet to tell her my plan, without the risk of sounding like I wanted to kidnap her and keep her in Tucson without a legitimate reason.

But I’m hoping that, as the day progresses, I might see further proof that she’s attracted to me. That would give me the courage to spill the beans and propose a mini-vacation with me.

“Devon, I forgot my laptop bag in the car.” Laia’s voice cuts through my contemplation.

“Do you want me to get it for you?” I offer, but she shakes her head.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll ask the valet boy to fetch it for me if you give me the car keys.”

I dig out the keys from my pocket and hand them to her.

As she takes them, our fingers brush. It’s a brief, involuntary gesture, but it makes my arm pause mid-air all the same.

Laia’s eyes dart to mine, and I’m sure she must be feeling the same pangs of electricity as I do. Her flustered gaze and sharp inhale point to that.

“Well, then I’ll go and…”

“Sure. You go and…” Sticking to my pledge of courting her slowly is so hard. “I’ll check into our rooms in the meanwhile.” Yes, doing something useful will help me reactivate my brain.

Laia blinks at her luggage. “Can I leave this with you?”

“Of course, no problem.”

She smiles, then walks away while I grab both of our bags.

I stride over to the reception desk. After a closer look, I decide it must be a Rottet design. Not many designers could pair brass, myrtle burl, and marble in such an enticing combo. I make a mental note that if I ever decide to re-look my company I should contact the talented Texas architect firm.

The young receptionist steps over to me. “Welcome to Paradise Point, Mr….?”

“Mr. Griffin. Devon Griffin. I’m here for the CCF with my plus one, Laia Flores.”

I ignore the giddy smile that wants to push its way to my cheeks as I call Laia my plus one. I’m really getting ahead of myself, but I can’t help it.

That short connection a moment ago left my insides flaring with hope and joyful anticipation for the next days.

The receptionist’s well-trimmed goatee shifts into a polite smirk. “Yes, of course. Give me just a second to check.” He peers down at his screen and types on his keyboard. “Ah, yes. I have you here. Mr. Griffin and Mrs. Flores. Perfect.” Then his bushy brows drift together. “Oh, wait, we have a tiny problem.”

“What problem?” I ask,