The Laws of Love

Chapter 13

The brother frowned as if he didn't know what he meant. Most of the time, his attitude was just desperate, but other times the distorted vision he had of things was comical. How the hell could he be a psychologist and at the same time so little self”aware? In his defense he would say that as long as he was paying attention, he was aware of the mood of others. That's why he was an excellent brother.

Yasin, stop here. He gestured to the coachman. You have to take the detour to go to the apartment and I prefer that you leave this guy there. I can look for life. Do you remember the address?

Yasin stopped at a red light and turned to say:

"Are you sure you want me to take your brother there, boss?" That place contains relics and could break something. It's like putting an elephant in a glassware.

"You have to give him a vote of confidence," Marc intervened, opening the car door. I'll call the house landline tonight to make sure you're there and not drinking.

Jesse gave a military salute, in a better mood now.

As soon as he got out, he got into the crosswalk, breathing deeply: breathing everything he hadn't in the Mercedes, and not just so he wouldn't die of intoxication. She really didn't like bringing Jesse into her mother's house.

He passed between the row of cars to reach the taxi that he thought was occupied. He grabbed a random back door handle and peered out with no manners. He was in a hurry to get to the office first, before Sandoval and the clients. He was very pleasantly surprised when he recognized the slanted eyes that greeted him.

"I'm not interested in tissues, umbrellas or whatever your peddling is," she smiled, instead of waving. But thank you sir.

Marc needed a few seconds to understand the reason for that intervention. So that was his "revenge" for the little act on the first day, when he pretended to have confused her.

It was hard for him to understand how he took the bait so easily. His body made it manifest in a very unpleasant way that he remembered her. In any case, Marc didn't do it to annoy her, but to lower her temper that he assumed was high.

It would not be for less. She had plenty of virtues to believe she was the queen of Sheba, and talent to crush him with a finger. She was too young a lawyer to be so prolific, too smart for the misfortune of some, and too sexy for what suited her concentration. Before he allowed her to cause him ADHD, he had to make it clear that she might as well be fucking Saul Goodman who wasn't going to lick his ass.

Or if. The truth is that the idea was presented as tempting. And what happens? Lawyers also liked lawyer series. Better call Saul was great.

Anyway. It would be seen He would do what the script called for and, perhaps, his instincts.

"Not interested in company, either?" he asked, coming in and settling to her left.

"Are you asking or are you stating it?" she asked back, keeping the subtle courteous smile. I didn't need another company. Rhett was telling me about his youngest daughter's birthday experience.

Marc directed his gaze and arched eyebrow at the Rhett guy, who he supposed was the taxi driver himself. He nodded, pleased that someone was making conversation with him.

“Where two fit, three fit. Isn't that what they say? he countered, staring at her. Or do you not see yourself capable of pleasing two men at the same time?

The reaction it caused in her was so delicious that the smile she kept out of boredom hit her deep. She had blushed, aware of the second sense. Curious that his provocations affected her, when he could imagine her stepping on testicles with her heels. In any case, he had won, because she moved to the side”and this time without connotation, unfortunately”with a grimace of dismay.

"After all, we're going to the same place." He glanced at her sideways. Buckle up.

Mark didn't listen to her. He was captivated by the curve of her made”up eyelashes, her firm lips painted in dark red. She was a dangerous woman. Marc knew how to distinguish them, and in fact divided them into three groups. The ugly ones with charm, the beauties who lost it with their arrogance and those who did not realize their exuberance. Either Yuri Sandoval was too humble to act according to her physical appearance, or she pretended to be impressed by him wonderfully, and Marc would favor the latter, even if he still didn't know what his intentions were. I mean… Marc was an impressive guy, but in general, flashy women didn't act like virgins in his presence. And it's not like Yuri was very embarrassing or innocent. She seemed more introverted.

"Did you hear me?" Buckle up,” he repeated. Mark frowned.

“Sorry?

Yuri pressed her lips together, between irritated and overwhelmed, and put an arm around him to tug on his belt. He watched her impulse go from hesitant to very determined. That brought her closer, captivating a new sense: that of smell. She was not wearing perfume, but she was using a delicate shampoo with a relaxing effect.

“Sorry. It makes me very nervous that security measures are not taken.

“It would not increase my life expectancy to have an accident in the middle of the city, even wearing a seat belt. Generally it is only used for highway.

"I highly doubt it." My cousin had a very difficult one in the middle of the center, and for not having taken measures she suffered severe consequences.

Marc blinked once.

“Sorry.

"I hope you're sorry she's still alive and well, she can be unbearable at times." She giggled and went back to her seat after buttoning it up, like a concerned mother. He is sitting in the middle. Without the seatbelt he would go flying with a sudden stop.

"He would have a quick and painless death."

"And I'd survive to see your brains on the windshield... No, thanks."

"Then I was only looking out for your well”being, not for my safety."

"You already have enough confidence carrying her in yourself for someone to worry about her."

Marc smiled curtly.

"Does that bother you?" Yuri cocked her head in his direction. Does my overwhelming confidence violate her in any way?

Have I shown it at some point?

"You ask because you're afraid you haven't been good enough at hiding how you feel about me?"

She looked down at the tips of her shoes.

"What I was saying, Mr. Ambani... He could take off his seatbelt right now, crash into the glass with a single jerk, and get out alive just for his safety." But if you want an answer, I have no problem giving it. “He looked into her eyes”. I've heard about you. His name is preferred in my signature. Many have him as a personal challenge. They want to be the ones to beat you in court.

"What conclusions have you drawn from my popularity?"

“I try not to get carried away by what is said, especially when the comments are not very pleasant. Although I doubt you care what they think of you, am I wrong?

Marc looked from her eyes to the point on her neck that Sandoval touched with his fingers.

It depends on the person we're talking about. I care if she's on my agenda, if she pays me, if she's a pretty woman... There are multiple exceptions. But no, in general, I don't care.

"In that case I can continue to be honest." I have heard all kinds of opinions about you, and I neither believe nor deny them, because they are just that, opinions. I'm not a judicious person, Mr. Ambani. I think my job doesn't allow it, and I'm one of those who take it home.

Marc licked his lips, amused by her professional posture, and how she was trying to keep their shoulders from touching. He knew the difference between discomfort born of contempt and discomfort born of desire, and it pleased him to know that she was attuned to his morbid thoughts.

"So you take your work home." And who is he going to take with him when the Campbell case is over? Your client or me?

She turned her face to the mirror to hide the expected violent blush.

“Don't worry, I'm one of those who avoid putting their work issues in bed at all costs. Of course, if they invite me, I doubt I'd turn it down. Above all, I consider myself educated and grateful... shooting for profit.

"What do you mean?" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Do you mix work with pleasure?

“Work gives me pleasure, and there is nothing more pleasurable than working a woman. They are concepts that should not be separated.

"If so, I hope with all my heart that you wait until the divorce is finalized to work with Mrs. Campbell at home, or I could use it to my client's advantage."

“Oh, I think we've all had our fantasies about older characters, but he's not my type.

“And which one is it?

“Lately I've been crazy about Asians.