3. Seven #2
Seven allowed Enzo to walk him back into the dining room on auto-pilot, weaving them through tables to a large decorative partition.
He pushed on the seam and it opened, revealing a whole other dining room—this one much cozier with several small private rooms. He let Seven enter first, then caught the eye of one of the servers before closing the partition again, instantly dulling the din of the customers.
Seven breathed a sigh of relief. All that noise had ratcheted his nerves to about a hundred. He allowed Enzo to guide him to a table in the back, then sat across from him.
Once they were seated, Seven immediately asked, “Why am I really here?”
“I told you, I have a proposal for you,” Enzo said vaguely.
Seven rolled his eyes. “What does that mean, exactly? Can you just speak plainly?”
Enzo leaned back in his seat. Seven watched the buttons strain across his powerful chest, unable to stop himself from licking his bottom lip when the older man steepled his tattooed fingers on the table.
He was having a hard time believing this man and the man he’d been with that night were the same.
Enzo at work had been so stern and gruff. But the Enzo he’d slept with had been nothing like that. He’d been direct, he’d been rough, but he’d also been attentive and patient. He’d taken care of him, before, during, and after.
This Enzo across from him was like some hybrid of the two, sliding back and forth between dickhead defense attorney and dominant Daddy.
It was making Seven dizzy. He wasn’t emotionally stable for this.
But whose fault was that? He could have called Enzo at any time, but had saved it until yet another fight with his actual father.
“We only have about an hour before I have to get back to work,” Enzo said, pulling Seven from his thoughts. “Let’s talk. Okay?”
Yes.
No.
Fuck.
“That is why I came,” Seven muttered.
He stared at Enzo’s hands, remembering just how much of his body was covered in ink. He mentally shook himself. Think of literally anything else.
“I want you to hear me out before you make any rash decisions,” Enzo started.
Seven’s shields immediately tried to return to their upright position. He slouched in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you being so dramatic? Are you trying to turn me into your sugar baby or something?”
Enzo’s gaze was hungry, predatory, like Seven was sitting there naked. “Are you applying for the position?”
Seven cocked a brow, tone growing flirty. “Maybe. What’s my allowance?”
Enzo’s lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. “I offer very generous compensation. But, unfortunately for you, I don’t do brats. I prefer my babies obedient.”
Something withered inside Seven’s chest, but he pushed it away. “You already did this brat, remember? So, we both know that’s not true.”
“I made an exception,” Enzo said.
“How benevolent of you,” Seven retorted, his chest burning.
He kept his face expressionless even though he felt like he’d been gut-punched.
“So, what am I doing here if you were so dissatisfied with my services?” When Enzo continued to study him, Seven rolled his eyes.
“You could have just left me on read. You didn’t need to invite me to lunch to reject me. It’s not that serious.”
Enzo huffed out a soft laugh, the one that made him seem more human. “No, smart mouth, I invited you here to offer you an…opportunity.”
Seven blinked at him stupidly. “To what, exactly?”
Enzo studied his face. “I’m offering you a contract.”
“You want me to work for you?” Seven asked, frowning at him in confusion. “Like…an intern or something?”
“No,” Enzo said, leaning forward. “All jokes aside, I really enjoyed our night together. I think you did, too.”
Seven’s face grew hot. “And…” he hedged.
“I was wondering if you’d be interested in making it more of a…regular thing.”
Seven was reeling. “You just said I was too bratty to be your sugar baby, but now, you’re asking to be…what? My next maintenance dick appointment?”
Enzo huffed out a humorless laugh. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way before. I was thinking something a little more substantial than that.”
“Meaning what?” Seven said, exasperated. “Just spit it out.”
“I want to train you to be my new submissive.”
In flames one moment, doused in ice water the next. “Train me…like a dog?”
“Of course not.”
He wanted him to be his…what? Servant? His concubine? Wanted to teach Seven how to…service him? “I wasn’t aware that I was in need of training. You seemed more than satisfied that night.”
Seven should have known better. This was why he didn’t bother dating. This was why he stuck with one-night stands. Enzo should have just stayed a spicy memory.
Seven had been stupid to reach out again. This was all his fucking father’s fault.
“That’s not what I meant. You were amazing that night. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have invited you to lunch.”
“To ask me if you could train me to fuck you the way you like?” Seven countered, seething.
He was being deliberately combative. He knew he was. But he was fighting the hurt clawing its way out of his chest.
Enzo looked surprised by his response. “At least hear me out.”
Seven scoffed. “Why should I? If I wanted a blow-by-blow of how much I sucked in bed, I would have provided you with a survey when it was over.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Enzo countered, stumbling over his words. “I just want to see you more. I like you—”
“Are you sure?” Seven spat back, words dripping with animus.
Enzo huffed a sigh, like Seven was already exhausting him. “Yes. I don’t usually make offers like this—”
“Oh, wow. I’m flattered,” Seven simpered, rolling his eyes to keep from bursting into tears.
This was so humiliating.
Enzo leaned in, expression strangely earnest considering the next words out of his mouth. “You should be. Like I said, I don’t do brats. But I’m willing to make an exception for you. I…really like you.”
Seven’s laugh sounded bitter even to his own ears as he fought back the tide of emotions threatening to overtake him.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Enzo or cry.
Maybe both. Letting the older man bend him over his desk would have been way more dignified than having to sit here and listen to him offer to “train” Seven to be his bed warmer.
He’d make an exception for him? Was he supposed to thank him?
What the fuck was he even offering him? Sure, Seven liked the idea of calling a guy Daddy.
He wanted to be cared for. He wanted someone who would take the lead and let him turn off his overactive brain just for a little while.
He wanted someone he could trust to know what he needed and when he needed it.
He didn’t want…whatever it was Enzo was offering him.
He didn’t trust Enzo. Not this version of him. But before Seven could tell him to go fuck himself, the partition opened and one of the servers entered, her amber eyes shining with interest as she studied the two of them.
“Who’s this?” she asked by way of greeting.
Enzo continued to stare at Seven. “A candidate for a job at my firm,” he lied smoothly. “I wanted to treat him to lunch.”
Boy, Enzo really didn’t care about keeping his stories straight. First, he was Seven’s mentor, now he was his potential boss? Well, given his proposal, he guessed that part wasn’t far off.
“He’s cute,” she said, as if Seven couldn’t hear her, boldly checking him out just like Enzo’s mom had. This girl had to be related to him as well. Was Seven just fly paper to the Conti family? “Is he single?”
Seven forced himself to grin at the girl, flashing his perfect teeth at her. “He is.”
She smiled back. “Oh, yeah? I’m Carlotta. But most people call me Carli.” She put the end of her pen in her mouth in a way that would have sent most straight guys into a frenzy.
“I’m also very gay,” Seven said mournfully.
“That’s good,” Enzo said tightly. “Because she’s very underage,” he said, tilting his head and giving the girl a firm look.
Carli looked back and forth between the two of them, then rolled her eyes. “My brother clearly wants to make you do his filing and bone you. Make sure he pays you what you’re worth. He’s loaded. So is that fancy firm he works for.”
Right. Was Enzo offering to pay him for…? No. There was no way. Not even Enzo would make that kind of proposition.
“Carli,” Enzo said through clenched teeth. “Shut up.”
Seven snickered when Carli rolled her eyes again. She was definitely a teenager. Enzo had said his family wasn’t afraid of him and he was right.
She stuck her tongue out at her brother, then turned to Seven. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Just water, please.”
She nodded. “I’m sure my brother can explain the menu to you.”
“Don’t you want to know what I want to drink?” Enzo asked, irritated.
“No. You can have water, too,” she said.
She gave a little wave to Seven, who returned it, then she was gone to get their drinks.
“That’s your sister?” Seven asked once they were alone again.
“One of them,” Enzo muttered.
“How many do you have, anyway?” he asked, desperate to change the subject. “Some people say your mom has ten kids, some say she has, like, fourteen. What’s the real number?”
“I have four sisters.”
“And a brother? The one from the office, right?” Seven asked.
Six kids sounded far more reasonable than some of the other wild stories he’d heard.
Enzo scoffed. “I wish. I have seven brothers.”
“Seven!” he shouted, then winced, lowering his voice. “You’re telling me that gorgeous woman gave birth to twelve kids? Twelve? Some of them are adopted, right? Or step-siblings? Something?”
Enzo laughed. “You have nine siblings. Why is this so shocking to you?”
That’s right. Enzo knew his father. Somehow, that just made this all so much worse. Did he feel sorry for him or something?