“There’s more than one stall,” the guy shouted, voice muffled.
Enzo rolled his eyes. “Use the one downstairs.”
The man slammed something heavy against the door with a shout—probably his palm—cursing him as he walked away.
Enzo turned to give Seven his full attention when the door flung open once more.
Vince.
“You two come with me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
In true brat fashion, Seven tried to argue anyway. “I was just lea?—”
“No. You two are both getting on my last fucking nerve,” Vince said. “March.”
He shoved his finger in the general direction of the stairs.
Seven snorted. “You can’t possibly think I’m going downstairs with him.”
Vince rolled his eyes. “As much as I think that would help, no, you’re going upstairs to my office.”
“I don’t want to—” Seven tried again.
“I don’t care,” Vince snapped. “My club. My rules.”
“Your rules allow for kidnapping?” Seven snarked.
“Yes. Section three, addendum two: Any parties engaged in juvenile conduct shall be remanded to my office for a mandatory conflict resolution feelings talk, per the bylaws of Me, Myself, and My Fucking Club. Now, go.”
Seven looked at Enzo, wide-eyed. “Does it really say that?”
Enzo snorted. “Knowing my brother, probably, yeah.”
“Aren’t you a member?” Seven shot back, marching up the stairs.
“Do you read every contract you sign?” Enzo spit back.
Seven looked at him like he was an idiot. “Yes, you moron. We’re lawyers.”
“I’ma lawyer,” Enzo mumbled. “You’re an intern.”
Vince yanked open the door to his office. “Inside. Now.”
“I don’t have anything to say to him,” Seven said, even as he stepped inside.
“Well, I’m sure he has something to say to you,” Vince countered, giving Enzo a pointed look.
Enzo shook his head. “I don’t?—”
“Don’t make me put you two in the get-along shirt,” Vince threatened menacingly.
Enzo gasped. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” Seven asked.
Enzo shuddered, remembering the giant t-shirt his mother used to force them to wear together whenever the siblings weren’t getting along. “You don’t want to know.”
“Call me when you’re done behaving like children and I’ll come let you out,” Vince said, closing the door before either of them could argue.
