4. Enzo #2
“Listen, you and I have two very different reasons for playing here. I do it because I enjoy it. You do it to keep people at arm’s length. And Mama knows this. We all know it. Somewhere deep down, you know it, too.”
Enzo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“If you like this kid so much, why not just ask him on a date? Try to have a real relationship with him? It’s been a decade. Isn’t it time to move on?” Vince asked.
Enzo grunted. Why did people keep bringing up his past? “I’m not fit to be in a real relationship with anyone. I’ll only end up hurting them.”
Vince rolled his eyes. “Well, on the bright side, you already hurt him, so way to rip off the Band-Aid, I guess.”
Enzo snorted, glowering at his brother. “You’re kind of an asshole.”
“At least I’m not the asshole who has to work with the guy I asked to be my sugar baby,” Vince countered. “Talk about a hostile work environment.”
“Yeah, for me,” Enzo fired back. “Why is nobody taking my side on this? You guys get he’s not a little kid, right? He’s twenty-six.”
“Compared to you, that’s a baby,” Vince said.
“Besides, it’s your own fault for choosing someone close to one of Mama’s favorites.
She loves that Levi kid and loves having more access to Jericho.
You doing a favor for Thomas has finally given her a close, personal connection with the Mulvaney family, and she’s not going to let you fuck this up for her. She likes them.”
“So, this is…what? Punishment for seducing one of her assets?”
Vince stared at him. “If you think she’s doing this to punish you and not to get you married off to someone of her own choosing, then you’re dumber than you look.”
Enzo let his brother’s words sink in, then shook his head. “No way. She knows better than that. She knows I’ll never date anyone seriously again. I’m a permanent bachelor.”
Vince’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “Bachelor? That word is so old-fashioned. It makes my skin crawl. Whether you think she’ll be successful or not, it doesn’t negate that she’s trying to play matchmaker.”
“What do I do? Do I just try to make him so miserable he quits?” Enzo asked, stomach churning at the thought.
“You have no reason to even interact with him. If you harass him, it will be you getting hauled into HR, not him,” Vince said.
“Be smart about this. If you won’t try dating him, at least try to get along.
Extend an olive branch. Apologize for insulting him and try to take him to lunch or something to smooth things out. Do not flirt with him.”
Apologize? What if that just gave Seven false hope again? “What if it—”
“You really over-estimate your stock value,” Vince scoffed, clearly reading his mind.
“How so?” Enzo asked, offended. “I’m hot, successful, rich, smart.”
“You just described ninety percent of the men at your law firm. You’re not special. The kid wasn’t in love with you. He was just insulted. Be a man and apologize.”
“Just like that?” Enzo asked. “Just ask him to lunch and apologize? You think that will really fix things?”
“It will if you don’t try to put your dick in him again,” Vince cautioned.
“Oh…right.”
Why was that thought so depressing?
Vince huffed in exasperation. “You’re fucking hopeless. You’re already thinking about sticking your dick in him again.”
“You haven’t seen the kid. You’d understand if you had.”
“Don’t worry.” Vince chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll meet him at the wedding.”
Enzo’s head jerked up. How had he missed that news? Or an invitation? “Wedding? Whose wedding?”
“Yours, dumbass.”
1 month 2 weeks 2 days and 14 hours since “that night”
Two weeks had passed since Seven started working at the firm. Two weeks of watching him pass Enzo’s window a hundred times a day. Two weeks of watching him flirt shamelessly with the paralegals. Two weeks of hearing that loud cackle he called a laugh. It was torture.
The first two times they’d met, Seven had worn baggy jeans and oversized hoodies that hid his hot little body.
Now, Enzo was forced to endure him wearing fitted trousers that hugged every curve and button-down shirts that showed off surprisingly muscular forearms. The labels on his clothes cost hundreds, if not thousands of dollars.
Had he already moved on? Was he someone else’s sugar baby now?
Just the idea of it had him growling and tossing his client’s folder across his desk.
Someone cleared their throat, attempting to get his attention.
Drucilla. She was, as always, impeccably dressed in a suit that made every other person in the office look frumpy.
She claimed she was dressing for the job she wanted, not the job she had.
The job she had was being the assistant to the attorneys on the floor, though her attitude often implied they worked for her.
Even the way she cleared her throat felt condescending.
“What is it?” Enzo asked warily.
“Lordes wants to see you in her office at three,” she answered.
Lordes Thorne was the co-founder of the firm. There was rarely an occasion for them to talk. “Why exactly does she want to talk to me?”
“Who knows?” Drucilla said, her lip curling like she’d smelled something bad. “Maybe she wants to make you a partner or something. Haven’t they been threatening that for years now?”
They had.
Enzo didn’t really care about making partner. It would help to keep his family’s extracurricular activities hidden, but it wouldn’t enhance Enzo’s already comfortable life. “Maybe. Just clear my calendar, move things around. Let me know if any clients give pushback.”
“‘Kay,” she said, turning on her heel without so much as a goodbye.
Enzo watched her leave before his gaze snagged on Seven.
He was perched on the corner of another intern’s desk—a bubbly little blonde named Katy with a Y.
He wore caramel-colored khakis that were practically painted on and a creamy cable knit sweater with a zipper at the neck.
His laugh cut through the office at whatever the other intern said, earning smiles from the others.
They loved Seven. Everyone did.
Enzo’s insides burned as the two bantered playfully. He glanced down at the demand letter he was supposed to be drafting, then leaned back in his chair, grinding the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, hoping that when he removed them, Seven would have magically disappeared from view.
He was surprised to find it worked. Seven was no longer at the intern’s desk or his own.
Instead, he was sitting at Owen’s desk. Did Grayson think it was appropriate to allow an intern to do that?
Did he not see how it made them look overly familiar with each other?
Enzo told himself he should invite Seven out and explain it to him before others started getting suspicious of the boy’s relationship with his new boss.
As he crossed the office, he could feel the confused glances of the others in the bullpen, which was filled with interns and paralegals.
Enzo couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a reason to visit Grayson’s office.
He didn’t knock right away, just lounged against the door frame waiting for Seven to notice him.
When it was clear that wouldn’t happen without help, he forced himself to give a cheerful, “Hey.”
Seven flinched, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge him.
He knocked softly on the frame. “Hello?”
“I have a name,” Seven muttered. “Though you probably don’t even remember it.”
“Stanley, wasn’t it?” Enzo teased, wincing internally when Seven gave him a scathing look.
Right, Seven hated his dad. With good reason, it seemed.
“Sorry,” Enzo said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I come in peace.”
“I don’t care how you come. I’m busy.”
Was that meant to be as suggestive as it sounded? His dick clearly thought so. What was it about this kid that drove Enzo crazy?
Enzo realized he’d been too wrapped up in Seven’s accidental innuendo to acknowledge he’d spoken when Seven flicked those beautiful pale green eyes at him. “What do you want?”
“I, uh, wanted to see if I could take you to lunch?” Enzo asked, cursing himself for feeling nervous.
Seven snorted, returning to his work. “Why? Is there another sex contract you’d like me to sign?” he asked loudly.
Enzo’s eyes went wide, and he jerked around to see if anyone had been within earshot. “Damn, kid. Why not just tell the whole office? Wanna put it in the company newsletter?”
“Maybe,” Seven said, his tone deceptively conversational. “Letting everyone know what a douchebag you are seems like a public service.”
Enzo huffed out a humorless laugh. “Trust me, there isn’t a soul in this building who doesn’t know what a douchebag I am. It probably was in the newsletter at some point.”
Something felt floaty in his chest as he watched Seven fighting back a smile. It was gone as quickly as it came.
He didn’t look up when he said, “I can’t. I have plans with Owen.”
“Owen?” Enzo muttered. “Already on a first-name basis? That was fast.”
Seven tossed down the pen in his hand, leaning back to glower at Enzo. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Enzo scoffed. “You tell me,” he shot back. “You did say that you call every hot, older man Daddy,” he recalled, heart racing.
Seven sneered at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, you think Owen’s hot? Does his wife know? I thought you preferred hot younger boys with Daddy issues and financial trouble.”
“That’s not—”
“Should I ask Owen if you can join us?” Seven asked, making for his phone that sat screen down on the desk. “Or maybe you two would like to be alone?”
Enzo blew out an exasperated breath, already exhausted. How had this gotten so out of hand so quickly? Why couldn’t Seven just cut him some slack?
“Can you please just…behave?” Enzo asked, tone almost pleading. “I’m trying to apologize to you.”
Seven sucked his teeth. “Apologize? For which part? Treating me like a whore or trying to pay me like one?” he asked, his voice sullen.
Yeah, he’d definitely hurt Seven’s feelings.
Fuck.