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

by Agnes Canestri

  “Don’t you dare approach my brother,” I growl. “Ale will get his life back on track and stay away from filth like you.”

  Fernando lifts a brow. “We’ll see about that. Good luck finding any well-paying job with his criminal record. I’m his only chance if he wants to earn decent money; he’ll soon realize that. He won’t want to mix cocktails for a crappy salary.” He throws an arrogant glance at Pablo. “Though some people only have enough brains and balls for that.”

  Pablo’s arms flex, as if he’s ready to launch forward.

  I put a hand on his elbow. “He’s not worth it, Pablo. Please.”

  Fernando chuckles. He ambles over to his bike, whistling cheerfully, and we wait in silence till he rides away.

  “Are you okay, Eva? Did he hurt you? I ran out as soon as Judy told me that this cretin came by.” Pablo pats my back.

  “I’m fine. Sooner or later this meeting had to happen. Thanks for stepping in, though.” I plaster on a smile I don’t feel.

  My stomach is as hard as a tortilla forgotten in the oven for days as I turn Fernando’s last comment in my head. I doubt that, after what Ale has learned about Fernando, he’d be ready to fall back with my ex, but the longer my brother goes unemployed, the more the potential risk of getting involved with bad people increases. Abuelita, despite her thorough search and desperate attempts to call in every favor she can in our church community, hasn’t found any employment opportunities for Ale yet. But my brother needs a job, and he needs it fast. I probably should’ve applied myself more in helping Abuelita, but since Nathan appeared in my life, I’ve been too occupied to think about anything else.

  I need to go see my brother. The drive to his prison takes an hour, so I can’t do it on a workday, but tomorrow is my free night. We could fill out a proper resume for him—a thing that some people inquired about before gently declining Abuelita’s request for help.

  To do that, however, I will have to cancel my date with Nathan.

  “Let’s go inside.” Pablo pushes me gently toward the door, and I realize I’ve been standing like a statue, sunk in my thoughts. He throws me a calculating glance from the corner of his eye. “By the way, have you seen that billionaire again? The one who was here a few nights ago? Fernando seemed to imply that you did.”

  Something in Pablo’s tone makes me uneasy. “Yes, I did. Why?”

  He taps his lower lip with a finger. “No reason. You know that I can’t stand your criminal ex. But he might not be wrong about everything. The rich guy isn’t one of us. So don’t give him too much confidence, okay?”

  The door closes behind us with a loud clank. Pablo heads to the bar, leaving me in the corridor that leads to our changing room.

  Why did Pablo say that?

  I recall Nathan’s fine clothes, his luxury rides, his beautiful condo, and his aunt’s refined manners. That’s his world. The little glimpse I’ve had of it for now.

  My eyes drift to the door separating me from a reality where I dance for truck drivers. I think of Alejandro’s prison cell, our house’s decaying walls, and the packed interior. Right. Not exactly similar. But Nathan doesn’t seem to care about it. So why should I?

  The newfound faith that was nestled in my chest after our kiss invades my limbs once more. I decide that, in fact, I won’t care about it. I won’t even wait to tell Nathan the truth about Ale. Tomorrow I’ll go and see my brother, because no matter how strongly I feel about Nathan, Ale is my blood and I’ve failed him in the past. But the next time I meet Nathan, I’ll come clean with him. About Fernando too. If Nathan is the kind of man I hope he is, he won’t run.

  And if he does?

  “Give La Mujer Sin Alma what’s due, your treacherous heart after he abandons you…”

  I shake my head slightly to stop the rhyme, then shuffle to our changing room. I never want to think of these wary words again. Not in relation to Nathan. He deserves more from me and I’m determined to give it to him.

  Chapter 25

  (Nathan - Day 6)

  “Oh, sorry, Nathan,” my brother says, excusing himself. “I didn’t realize you were having a meeting. Rachel wasn’t outside, so I thought you might be talking to her.”

  When Murphy entered my office this morning, I was just finishing a discussion with a guy from accounting. “No problem, Murph. Thomas and I are done.” I stand up and shake my employee’s hand. “Thanks for the thorough briefing, Thomas. It really shows how you and your team put a lot of effort into this monthly report. It’ll make my job with the board of directors an easy cruise.”

  This praise comes surprisingly naturally. Not only because Thomas and his team did a terrific job with the report. But also because, by now, I know how it feels to be complimented by a person whose opinion matters to me. The sense of pride when Eva called my simple gesture of setting an alarm “thoughtful” still warms me inside.

  Thomas blushes, an endearing sight given his bulky build and chubby cheeks. He staggers to the door, but before he steps out, I call behind him. “Please make sure that Frank, Bob, Angela, and you take an extra-long lunch break in some nice restaurant nearby. I’d recommend Gravatti’s Trattoria. The bill is on AMEA, of course. As a bonus for your excellent work.”

  Thomas whips around and his double-chin deepens as his jaw goes slack. But he gathers his wits quickly and nods enthusiastically. “Oh, thank you. Thank you. The team will be happy!”

  When he’s gone, I turn to Murphy.

  He’s standing a few feet from me, studying me with a raised brow. “You gave a bonus to the accounting guys?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you called the team members by their names?”

  I give him a so-what glance.

  Murphy glares back at me. “It’s not something you usually do. And where is your secretary? Rachel has never taken a day off since you recruited her, right?”

  I shrug. “She mentioned this morning that her mother had a blood test, and I said she should drive her. Elderly ladies get dizzy when they get their veins poked.”

  “You not only granted her permission, but you actually encouraged her to take personal time off to be close to her mother?”

  “Yes.”

  I can’t see what’s so strange. I mean…yes, I can—being this considerate with employees isn’t what I would have done, even a week ago, but it’s not a big deal. After my first trial with my secretary, I’ve been branching out and giving some extra attention to my subordinates. For now, the balance of my tests is pretty positive.

  And the weirdest side effect of all?

  It actually gives me a great feeling to connect with the people I spend a reasonable chunk of my day with. Perhaps implementing Eva’s advice is not only changing my work procedures but also something in me. I wouldn’t stretch it as far as to say that I’ve become like my brother, but I no longer see my employees in the restrictive dichotomy of “performing vs. non-performing.” Instead, I perceive their personalities and wishes. And this places my interactions with them in a whole new dimension.

  Take Rachel, for example. This morning, she arrived with that Nicaraguan Cigar Blend coffee that only one specialty store on the other side of town keeps and I love. The cup was still steaming when she put it on my desk with a smile. To reciprocate her courtesy, I didn’t want to keep her away from her mother in a moment of need.

  Or Marcela from sales. She offered to redo the sketches for a client meeting, without me having to ask her explicitly, because I listened to how her cat had kittens. Not to all the gross details of the birth, just to the names she gave to them.

  And I’m pretty sure that Thomas and his team will make their next presentation even more dynamic after having tried the Gravatti’s antipasti.

  Murphy strides to me and leans back and forth, peeking behind me as if he’s looking for something.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Checking whether you’re a hologram or my real brother. But I can’t see any projector, so it must be you. Even
if you do have that untypical grin plastered on your face.”

  “I’m just in a good mood.”

  Murphy straightens. His long curls buzz in the air for a second, even after he stops moving. He must have forgotten his gel today. “That I can see.” He hums. “I would even bump it up a notch and say that you’re awfully cheerful today.”

  “That’s probably a way to put it too,” I admit, stretching my smile to a full-teeth one. I’m indeed in the best of moods. But why wouldn’t I be?

  I had a wicked workout this morning after a blissful night filled with fantastic dreams. The sun is shining at its kindest, illuminating my desk with a cozy light and warming my back. Thomas had great news about last month’s numbers. Even my breakfast cereal tasted more delicious than usual. I complimented Tracy on how she managed to roast the granola to perfection, and she hugged me in exchange.

  And the cherry on the top? In less than a few hours I’ll be seeing Eva again.

  Murphy gives out a small whistle. “Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say you seem like someone in love.”

  In love? “What an absurd accusation. I certainly haven’t fallen in love with Eva.” The words tumble out of my mouth quickly and with an annoyed edge like grains of salt from a sack ripped open.

  Have I?

  The fact that I’m even asking myself this question makes me pause. Chances are that my brother is just playing me. Poking me to see my reaction. Trying to plant ideas into my head…

  But even if he is, why does Murphy’s remark irritate me so much? Could it be because…?

  I’d be delusional if I denied that there are moments where I don’t exactly know why I’m behaving the way I do around Eva. And, yes, my heart does beat to a whole new rhythm whenever I think of her…but that’s just because I’m attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be intrigued by a woman like Eva? She’s smart, absolutely gorgeous, passionate, and not obsessed with money.

  The memory of last night flashes through me.

  Oh goodness, if that wasn’t the best kiss of my life…

  It takes all my willpower to cut the fantasy short before I’m so absorbed, I forget about Murphy staring at me.

  “Well, well-l-ll…” My brother elongates the “l” in a way that makes me suspect that my reminiscence couldn’t have overtaken my brain at a worse time. My expression must have hinted at my manly thoughts, leading to my brother drawing the wrong conclusion.

  Murphy squints his eyes and scratches his chin, a sign that he’s busy applying his people-reading skills on me. He probably hopes to dig into my soul and unearth that what he thinks I’m aware of but keeping hidden from him. He doesn’t understand that there’s nothing to be found.

  I’m not in love with Eva.

  I need to adjust this messy situation fast, before Murphy makes a triumphant call to Mother about how I’ve violated the condition of the bet.

  “Murphy, quit that analytical glare of yours. I’m my normal self, as always.”

  Murphy chuckles. “Really? So you’re telling me it’s normal for you to dance in a pub, offer bonus lunches to your employees, let your secretary attend to her sick mother—or, shall I say, even know that her mother is sick—and take more personal leave in four days than you’ve ever taken in your whole life?”

  I square my shoulders. “I don’t see your point. I danced salsa because we went to a disco pub. What was I supposed to do? My task is to woo Eva, isn’t it? Also, I’m obliged to take time off to fit this seduction act into the crazy one week schedule you gave me. Yes, it’s all normal, given the absurd situation I find myself in.”

  “And what about your miraculous transformation from Mr. Grumpy-All-Numbers Boss to Have-a-Lunch-On-My-Account Boss? Do you claim that’s normal too? Eva isn’t around to see that. Is that also part of your get-her-to-fall-for-you strategy?”

  Incredible. Murphy has put me in a situation where I need to do things that are foreign for me if I want to win. And now he’s using that against me and trying to put ideas about Eva into my head? My nostrils flare. “Wasn’t it you who chewed my ear about acting more approachable and caring in the office? I thought your whole bet was set on teaching me this particular skill.”

  “Oh, yes, it was. But you’ve never listened to me. You did, however, listen to E-v-a.” He accentuates each letter of her name with a little wiggle of his brows. “Not that I blame you.”

  “And you shouldn’t. Eva is a one-of-a-kind woman. I’m not blind. I see that.”

  Murphy folds his arms in front of his chest and arches his back, shifting his posture to an almost-challenging stance. “So?”

  When Murphy gets scent of something he believes to be true, he drills till he finds proof of it. No matter what. It must be the key to his success as a psychologist. But it’s also his most annoying character trait as a brother. I know I’ll have to give him a bone if I want him to leave me alone. “What do you want me to say, Murphy? I’m aware that Eva and I have good chemistry. Part of the reason I was ready to accept her as the candidate for our bet. Could this physical attraction, coupled with the respect I’ve developed for her personality, turn into something? Potentially, yes. But it’s something I don’t feel yet. And, above all, something I don’t need. I want my future to unfold the way I’ve planned. So I very much intend to win this bet.”

  I expect Murphy to throw me a coy smile like he always does and crack a joke at my expense, but he surprises me by pulling his chin into a frown. “Will you pull it off without hurting yourself?”

  The concerned edge in his voice startles me.

  “Wait, are you having second thoughts about your own idea, Murph? You told me I needed to prove I can influence people’s feelings without getting involved. Don’t tell me you’re backing out when I’m so close to bringing my prize home?”

  Murphy shrugs, his usual relaxed expression returning to his features. “No second-thoughts. You seem awfully confident about winning.”

  “Well, I am. Eva and I are officially dating. There’s no reason to assume that I won’t fulfill your conditions by the time of the ball.”

  If I continue on the same track as last night, Eva will probably gush about me enough that Murphy won’t have any choice but to accept my victory.

  My eyes flick to the package on the armchair in the corner. Anticipation ripples through me as I picture how I’ll hand it over to Eva when I invite her to the ball. I spent almost as much time choosing the perfect shade for her dress as I usually dedicate to writing my yearly report for Mother. I don’t know why, but I want Eva to feel as ravishing as a fairy-tale princess when she wears it.

  And as unwilling as possible to refuse my present because she likes it so much.

  Murphy follows my glance and pulls his nose into a wrinkle of suspicion. “What’s that box?”

  “Office staples.”

  “Fancy packaging.”

  “Rachel orders my supplies from a high-end paper producer,” I say dryly.

  I could easily tell Murphy that it’s a gift for Eva as a token of thanks once she accepts to be my plus one for the ball. But given our previous exchange, Murphy might try to turn my choice of purple color to compliment Eva’s complexion into something else.

  Murphy doesn’t look convinced. “Staples wrapped with a pink ribbon?”

  I shrug. “Rachel felt particularly flamboyant after I told her to go with her mother. She must’ve added that touch to the box before leaving it here.”

  Murphy’s eyes move back to me. “Okay, then. I think we’ve discussed what I came here for.”

  “And what was that again?”

  “To see how you are doing. As your brother, I’m concerned how you’re coping with the challenge I’ve given you.” He smiles, but it’s a cool, asymmetrical smirk.

  Is he upset about my obvious fib about the package? Or was my aunt right all along, and Murphy’s main objective isn’t to sabotage my promotion so much as to teach me a life lesson which he thinks I’m failing at?

 
; I decide not to question his weird mood. It’s Murphy, after all. He’ll come out with it sooner or later if it really bugs him. “Okay then, Murphy. I have a meeting in twenty minutes anyway, and then I’m heading over to Eva’s house.”

  “A lunch with her?” His insinuating tone might as well be saying, “Are you lying to me, brother?”

  I exhale. “Murphy, please, don’t do this. I’m not a fan of saying one thing but thinking another. You know that. I told you, and I repeat—I am not falling for Eva. So stop assuming that I am. That’s not an aspect you need to keep a tail on.”

  As the words roll off my tongue they feel… rotten. Almost foul. And I feel a jerk for saying them. Have I been lying to myself when I called my feelings for Eva attraction? They’re probably more than that already. Otherwise I wouldn’t feel this stab in my chest.

  Okay, but even if they are, there’s no need to stick them into any specific category—especially not in one starting with the letter L.

  Naming each and every desire is perhaps a useful practice with Murphy’s patients, but in a normal, well-functioning man like me, it only creates mental confusion. I won’t label what I feel for Eva. Just endure it till this bet is over.

  Murphy nods, his face sobering. “Very well. I’ll stop. My whole attention will be devoted to checking Eva’s feelings for you at the ball. It’s in two days, so you better make sure your lunch goes smoothly and lovingly.”

  I ignore his cynical last words. “How will you go about testing her?”

  Murphy sniffs. “The situation will offer the best method for that. But I’m considering asking her a few revealing questions.”

  A scene where my brother goes up to Eva and spills the beans to her about the bet appears in front of me, and my chest contracts as if lightning has slammed into me. “Will you tell her about…that I’ve lied to her?” As I wait for his answer, I’m holding my breath.

  Murphy eyes me with a brow raised. “I won’t. It would be counterproductive if I want to get to the root of her devotion for you.”

  Relief floods through me. “Ah, good,” I murmur.