Laws of Attraction

Prologue

*MAJOR TW // attempted SA.

"A lawyer will do anything to win a case; sometimes, he even tells the truth."

-Patrick Murray

Act I:

Prologue

It's late.

Estefanía Kabila —known to her friends as Rizos because of her curly hair— wants to go home, but her boss has a rule.

'If I'm working, so are you.'

Which is fine any other day of the week, but it's Friday night, and she wants to spend it with her twin sister and some friends, getting entirely too tipsy and feeling an unhealthy amount of bass drowning out her own thoughts.

Instead, she's here, taking notes as her boss reads through a seventy-five-page contract.

And okay, he's not the worst boss in the world.

Ismael Valbuena can be prickly and condescending, and sometimes his gazes and touches last a bit too long for her liking. He shouts often when things aren't going his way, which is at least once a day. So, while she's normally opinionated and outgoing, when Rizos arrives at the office in the morning, she keeps her head down, does her job until it's time to clock out. Anything to keep Valbuena's attention off of her and make the workday pass faster.

Maybe he is the worst boss in the world, Rizos thinks as she sits quietly in the visitor's chair across from him. She glances up at him and takes in his permanently furrowed brows and confident posture. If he wasn't such a raging misogynist, he might actually pass for attractive. 

Still, things could be worse, she supposes. She could still be unemployed and dangerously close to losing her apartment.

Truth be told, if Valbuena hadn't hired her as his assistant, she would probably be sleeping on her sister's couch while her rowdy niece and nephew ran back and forth.

"These lawyers are fucking idiots," Valbuena huffs, tossing the contract onto his desk. He pushes out of his chair and crosses the room until he reaches the wooden cabinet beside the window. Opening it, he chooses a bottle of blended whiskey, pouring himself a glass. There's a moment's pause before he pours her one as well.

"What's wrong with the contract?"

It's the first time she's spoken in almost an hour, save for the grunts of acknowledgment during her notetaking.

This draws his attention off of said moronic lawyers and turns it solely onto her. Estefanía. She's stunning. Almond skin that looks soft to the touch and wild ringlets that she does not attempt to coerce into the elastic prison of a hair tie. She dresses moderately here in the office, but he's seen her Instagram feed. He knows just what she looks like when she wants to be seen.

Why doesn't she want to be seen by him, he wonders. He doesn't like that. Or maybe he does. It's a challenge for him: trying to attain the unattainable.

"They know the company is going public soon, so they're trying to pay us pennies for services that will be worth millions once we do go live. It's a slap in the face."

Valbuena shuffles back over to her and hands her the drink. She accepts it but doesn't drink. "But is it worth millions now? I don't think it's fair to expect them to barter on a 'what if'. It's like signing a prenup to a spouse that might become rich but isn't just yet."

"Still, a woman will marry a man she sees as a potential moneymaker. She knows he has it in him, and she will push him towards that goal." He comes to stand beside her chair, his crotch a little too close, and slips a hand into the pocket of his pants.