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

by Agnes Canestri

  But what about this hollow feeling in my chest?

  Two hours later, I park in front of Eva’s house.

  For the rest of our time in the teahouse, the odd emptiness doesn’t leave me. In the end, I just decide to ignore it and give up on trying to discern its meaning. I have the impression that if I insist on cracking it, I’ll just make my already demanding situation more stressful.

  Eva turns to me. “It was nice today, Nathan. I really enjoyed our meeting. Thank you.” She unbuckles her seatbelt and her hand moves to the handle of the car door.

  That’s it? Is she just leaving me without agreeing on a new date?

  Though my original intention was to wait for Eva and see whether she proposes something to me, on second thought, why should I let her go like this? It’s not late. These past few hours have been fun. And aside from the need to hurry things for the sake of the bet, I just really don’t feel like saying good-bye to her.

  “Eva, what would you say if I invited you to dinner?”

  “Dinner? You mean tonight?”

  “Yes.” Why not? She told me she isn’t working at the bar this evening. A dinner together is just extending my previous invitation. It surely can’t come across as too pushy.

  Eva keeps her gaze on her hands. “Tonight isn’t possible.”

  “Why not?” I fail at hiding my disappointment. And to make things worse, I even add, “You’ve got a date or what?”

  She nods. “Sort of.”

  What? If my eyes could, they would fall out of their sockets and roll below the soles of my Tom Ford custom shoes. Eva is seeing someone after I drop her off? And she’s calling it a date, after she tucked me into the friend box and referred to our time together as a meeting?

  She glances up and her serious expression crumbles. She bursts into a giggle, while pointing at my face. “Oh goodness, you should see yourself. You look like Wile E. Coyote when the Roadrunner drops a heavy stone on his head.”

  “I’m not sure what that might look like.” My voice is throaty, and I hate myself for it.

  As much as I try to explain the anger flaring up in my chest with the realization that Eva’s mystery date is an unexpected setback in my success, I feel it’s not only that. There is a little green-eyed monster shaking himself awake inside me at the thought of Eva going out with a man other than me.

  Eva claps her hands. “You don’t know this cartoon? Ah, I’ll tell Juan to show you an episode sometime. The Roadrunner is one of his favorite characters.”

  The ease with which she mentions that I might meet her brother again lifts my spirit a bit. At least she’s planning on seeing me again. “Wouldn’t your date disapprove of me coming to your place to watch a cartoon?”

  Eva shakes her head. “I don’t think she would mind it.”

  “Sheeee?”

  Eva winks. “Yes. I promised my friend Judy that I’ll go out with her tonight. Remember the blond belly dancer?”

  Ah, a night-out with a girlfriend.

  Relief floods me. As my neck muscles relax, I wonder if it’s normal that I’m feeling this jealous of Eva. “Don’t you girls want some company?” I point at her grandmother’s car through my Jaguar’s windshield. “The less that rusty thing drives, the better it is. I could bring you to wherever you need to be.”

  Eva stares at me as if she’s thinking about my words. “Well…there could be a scenario where…but I’m not sure…”

  “Please tell me. I’d love to see you tonight.” I brush her hand quickly to ensure her of my determination.

  Her eyes move to where I’ve touched her and she sighs. “Oh, well. Judy loves to meet new people, especially guys. And she did tell me that your brother, Murphy, looked nice.” She moves her gaze to mine. “So… if you could invite him too, then I think she would be fine with you joining.”

  Murphy?

  The last person I want around when I spend time with Eva is my brother. I don’t need him to monitor me. Nor to make cheeky comments at home about how I’ve behaved. But maybe he would be distracted with that blonde? It could be an opportunity instead of a constraint. He could keep Eva’s friends occupied so that I’ll have some alone time with Eva.

  I nod. “Consider it done. You can tell your friend that Murphy will be joining us tonight. I’ll pick you up at…what time?”

  “Aren’t you coming with Murphy?” Eva asks.

  “Nah.” I shake my head. “I don’t like his Lamborghini. Also, I just said that your sedan should rest as much as possible.”

  “Fine, then. Can you come around eight-thirty?”

  “Sure, I can. Perfect.”

  I might be feeling a bit giddy with my good fortune, because I decide to push my luck and lean in to give her a good-bye peck on her cheek.

  She flinches when I get closer but doesn’t move back. As I bend to her face, her flowery scent penetrates my lungs and my stomach stirs.

  Oh, man.

  The question of whether I’m making a mistake with this whole bet comes into my mind again. But this time, it’s not because of my guilt over lying to Eva. I like to be the one who sets the rules of my own life. With Eva close, however, I can’t seem to stick to my natural habits. Somehow she makes me think, say, and feel things I didn’t plan on.

  You don’t have another choice, Nathan. If you want to become CEO, then Eva is the way to it.

  I press my lips to her cheek and let the thrills explode in my chest.

  Eva gets out of the car and shuts the door. She waves at me and disappears into her house.

  I fire up the engine and ride away, my body still humming with the mighty sensation that pressing my lips to her cheek has unleashed in me. I grit my teeth, forcing my heart’s cadence back to its normal rhythm. I need to ensure that these effects Eva triggers in me don’t grow into any real feelings.

  And for now…I’m not doing the best job of that.

  Chapter 17

  (Eva)

  “Did you put on your dancing shoes?” I ask as Nathan hops into the driver seat.

  He shuts the door a little too loudly. “Dancing? I thought we were going out to have drinks. You didn’t say anything about dancing.”

  “Didn’t you claim to be the salsa connoisseur the night I met you?” I wink.

  It feels normal and strange at the same time to be teasing Nathan. Normal because our dialogue evolved through banter from the first moment we spoke. And strange because, somewhere along the way, our bickering comments transformed. The warm tone with which I’ve just reminded him of his arrogant claim is proof of it.

  He pulls up his shoulders, apparently at unease. “Yes. But what I meant is that I know a good dancer when I see one. I never said that I can dance.”

  His flustered face warms my chest, making me act way flirtier than I should. I put my hand on his fingers clutching the wheel. “Aren’t you lucky I’m also a good teacher?”

  He blinks at me, and I regret my bold gesture immediately. As the blazing strength of his gaze washes over me, it’s safe to say that even my toes are melting.

  Well, Eva, you wanted to tempt him, and here is your reward.

  I withdraw my hand and turn my head forward. I take a peek at him from the corner of my eye and see that he’s watching me. There’s a satisfied grin on his face, as if my reaction is to his liking.

  I swallow to ease my parched throat. “Uhm…shall we get going? Judy and your brother must be already waiting for us.”

  In less than ten minutes we’re approaching the disco pub, Mamacita. Nathan points at the orange Lamborghini as we enter the parking lot. “Look, that’s Murphy’s car.”

  I blink at my friend’s black Ford, which is almost as beat up as our sedan. “And Judy’s here, too.”

  We get out of the car and walk toward Mamacita’s entrance.

  The first odors to greet me upon arrival are usually the smell of lemon—Mamacita’s most popular drink is the straight tequila shot—mixed with the rubbery stench of overheating speakers. But tonight, a c
loud of zesty manly cologne and sweetish hairspray envelops me as soon as we step inside.

  Nathan must feel it too, because he leans to my ear and whispers, “Huh, some of these people must have put extra effort into their looks.”

  I give him a slanted glance. I’m interested in his reaction to the low ceilings, dim lighting, dark-shaded walls…the overall lack of fanciness. Mamacita must be even further away from his world than the Desert Rose was.

  He scans the room with curious eyes, then tilts his head toward the big, convivial tables. “Why are these so long?”

  “To provide additional space to dance,” I joke. Well, sort of. On some heated nights, people do climb on the tables.

  Nathan’s eyes dart to me. “So you weren’t kidding me with the dancing part?”

  I meet his I-wish-you-were-just-teasing-me look with a wide grin. “Look around, Nathan, you can’t seriously assume I come to Mamacita to sit around and watch the thoughtful decoration, right?”

  I turn away to check the room for Judy and Murphy. It’s not hard to spot them. Nathan’s brother stands out among the regulars like a black sheep. His shiny, navy blue jacket reflects the orange disco lights. Plus, he’s the only man in the sultry room who has a pair of ironed, white trousers. He actually looks good in them, too, but they’re way more elegant than the clothes of the rest of the guests.

  Judy waves at us while squeaking. “Here, here, Eva.”

  Nathan notices them, too, and his face relaxes. “At least I’ve dressed the part of a salsero, right? I’m glad I called you to check what I should wear. I’d hate to be the odd one out, like my brother.”

  My eyes flick to Nathan’s purple shirt that he wears unbuttoned around his neck. The color accentuates his naturally tanned skin and dark hair. He has paired it with a pair of simple black jeans. If it wasn’t for the clearly expensive fabric of both, he could actually blend in well with the other guys. “And you didn’t pass on this information about the dress code to your brother because…?”

  Nathan shrugs. “Maybe I didn’t talk to him after our call. Or maybe it was a little prank he deserved. Pick your favorite explanation.”

  “I’m gonna go with you not having a chance to talk to him.”

  “Ah, so you like to assume the best of me now? That’s a change. I’m hoping your readiness to see the good in me will bring us to even friendlier waters soon.” He winks at me. His words are teasing, but they also have a secretive undertone.

  I ignore how my belly warms at his deep baritone and say, “Maybe I’ll tell Murphy that he should ditch his shiny jacket. You think he will mind?”

  “No. Murphy has a few flaws, but he isn’t touchy.”

  When we arrive at the table, Nathan’s brother stands up and greets me with a bright, genuine smile. “Eva, what a pleasure to meet you again!”

  Judy also jumps up and closes me into an embrace. When her thickly painted lips approach my ear, she whispers. “You need to find a way to leave. Pronto. I want to stay with Murphy. Alone.”

  “But we just got here,” I protest in an equally low voice, while slanting a glance at the men. Luckily they’re chatting about some business deal Nathan signed off on, so they aren’t paying attention to our muttering.

  “I know, but I just started working my charms on Murphy before you showed up. If I work him well, we might go home together tonight.” Judy puts a red-manicured finger to her lips.

  My friend and I are close, but our ideas about how to approach relationships couldn’t be more different. We’ve already confronted our diverging views a couple of times and decided that each of us is better off sticking to her own values. Vive y deja vivir, as Abuelita tends to say so wisely.

  “Will try my best, but at least let us grab a drink and maybe enjoy a few songs?” I whisper.

  “Ah, right. I didn’t think of this secret weapon. Thanks for reminding me. Chicka-chicka-boom-boom.” Judy sways her hips in little circles. “Murphy won’t be able to resist me on the dance floor, I can promise ya that! So you and Nathan can stay if you want.”

  “Great, thanks.” I turn to check whether the brothers are still absorbed by their talk or if they witnessed Judy’s sexy moves.

  To my surprise, they’re staring at each other in silence. Murphy narrows his eyes at Nathan, and Nathan answers it with a glare—his brows furrowed and lips pressed together as if he wants to convince Murphy of something he doesn’t like.

  The waitress arrives and interrupts their weird silence. “What would you like?” She sticks a pen behind her ear as if she’s sure that whatever we’ll order won’t be so complicated that she’ll need to write it down.

  To be fair, Mamacita’s food offerings consist of three items.

  We all sit down to check our menus. Nathan scans the laminated one-pager and I see his eyes stop on the spare ribs.

  I lean close to him. “Don’t pick anything else but their nachos. Unless you want to spend the rest of the night in the bathroom. Trust me on this.”

  His mouth twitches. “I’ll have the nachos and a Coke please.”

  “Same here, but instead of a normal Coke, I’ll take a Diet Coke,” I add.

  Murphy wiggles his eyebrows. “Wow, you two already coordinating what you order? That’s a good sign, right?”

  Nathan throws him an it’s-none-of-your-business glance but doesn’t say a word.

  Murphy’s nostrils flutter slightly at his brother’s reaction, then he shrugs and murmurs, “Way to take a compliment.”

  What has gotten into these two?

  Judy arches her brows at me as if she expects me to know why the brothers are behaving oddly. But when I shake my head, she shifts closer to Murphy. She lowers her chin and peeks up at him from under her lashes. “I could also take anything that you order, Murphy…if that’s your thing.”

  Yuck, I forgot how straightforward Judy can be when she’s interested in a guy.

  The waitress, who’s still waiting on their order, shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  Murphy smacks his lips. “All right. Let’s make it four nachos then, two Cokes, a Diet Coke and a…” His eyes move to Judy who’s playing with her necklace in front of her abundant cleavage. “What would you like to drink, Judy?”

  Judy purses her lips. “A glass of champagne, please. Dom Pérignon, if possible.”

  I seriously doubt Mamacita has champagne, much less a Dom Pérignon.

  The waitress snorts. “Okay, I’ll see what we’ve got.” She goes back to the kitchen.

  “A Don Pérignon?” I mouth silently at my friend.

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen Judy order anything besides a Sprite or cheap wine. And I know for a fact that she’s only aware of this brand of bubbly because she’s a die-hard fan of Diamond Souls, a reality show dedicated to the rich and famous. What has gotten into her to splurge like a fool on a simple drink?

  Judy shrugs, arching her brows as if to say, “Why not?” She pats Murphy’s arm and adds in a singsong soprano, “Murphy, dear, are you sure it’s okay that I chose such an expensive beverage?”

  Murphy gives her a bright smile. “Of course. We can even take a bottle if that’s your heart’s desire. It’ll be on me, of course.”

  I stifle a groan and press my feet to the wooden floor, trying to concentrate on something other than my instinct to roll my eyes. It would be unfair to complain about Judy’s behavior. It was me who turned our girls’ night out into a billionaires’ night. Judy is just taking advantage of it.

  I see from the corner of my eye that Nathan is observing me with a smile tugging on his lower lip. He pokes me gently on the shoulder. “You still have time to switch up your Coke for something else. A 1858 Cuvee Léonie, perhaps?”

  His voice is bemused, like he and I are sharing an inside joke. I don’t know what a Cuvee Léonie is, but the year attached to it and its fancy name tell me it’s probably more expensive than what my friend ordered. I give him an aren’t-you-just-cute-for-asking smirk and say, “Nothin
g can beat a good Coke in a steamy place like this.”

  Indeed, just looking at Nathan’s kindly mocking eyes, the sultriness of the air becomes even more evident. He knows very well that I have a hard time accepting any financial gallantry, and after our coffee together, he’s clear about why. I still can’t believe I told him about my father. I usually avoid that topic with anybody except close family members.

  Under the table, Nathan pats my leg just above the knee. “That’s a girl I like,” he whispers quietly so the others don’t hear.

  His hand moves back so quickly that only the heat spreading through me confirms that he actually touched me. It’s a blessing I decided to wear trousers tonight, or I’d have melted into a puddle when he touched my bare skin.

  Murphy, who’s been observing us with a smug smirk bends forward on his elbows. “So, Eva, is my brother’s behavior more to your liking?”

  “He’s a perfect gentleman. I think we’ll be good friends.” I reply in a throaty voice, because my thoughts about Nathan right now are nowhere near the “friends” category.

  “Friends?” Murphy almost sounds disapproving. He points at Nathan, who is breathing heavily beside me as if trying to keep his temper in check. “You know, my brother is actually way nicer than he sometimes allows others to see.”

  Is Murphy playing matchmaker? Or does he want to tease Nathan?

  Nathan obviously thinks it the latter. He tenses beside me, his legs pushing against mine as his muscles grow rigid.

  I don’t think his brother meant it badly, but I still feel sorry that Nathan is put on the spot like this. The words tumble out of my mouth. “Well, I think Nathan is pretty awesome as he is.”

  Nathan’s face illuminates and he points at Murphy. “You see, brother? You always give me too little credit.”