Page 36 of The Enforcer

He walks me over to the wall opposite where he wants to add the bar. “Over here will be the VIP section. I want to elevate the space, so VIP feels like VIP. Add a few steps here and a rail so those in attendance can look down at the partygoers. It’ll make them feel important.” I nod in agreement. “In the VIP section, I want to have a private bar, something more intimate that will cater to those that paid extra for the space. Those that party up here won’t want to go to the main floor for drinks. It’ll ruin their experience of being better than other people, at least for the night.”

“I like it,” I tell him truthfully. I was never a big club person, opting to go to bars to have a few drinks and in recent years, to the clubhouse. If I were, I’d like the vision Zeke is going for. Especially about the VIP section. Most people that will spend extra money so they can look down on other people will be people that couldn’t do that in their normal, day-to-day lives. Zeke is playing on their emotions and need for superiority. Smart.

“Also,” Zeke says, “I want to have a few cages and hire a few go-go dancers. Something to entice the partiers.”

“Of course you do,” I say with a chuckle.

“You can be my private dancer. I’d watch your sexy ass move for me.”

With a self-deprecating laugh, I look down at my feet. “Yeah, because you’d love to see me and my two left feet dancing around your living room.”

Looping his fingers in my belt loops, Zeke pulls me against him, kissing me hard. “Well, what do you know? I happen to love two left feet. I’ll show you just how much tonight.”

Grinning against his lips, I ask, “What’s supposed to happen tonight?”

“You’ll fucking see. Just know that it includes me on my knees … taking a closer look at those two left feet.”

I snort, moving back in for a kiss. My cock strains against my slacks faster than I would have thought was possible. I feel Zeke’s as well, pressing against mine. He slides his hands down to my ass, pulling me flush against him so our cocks slot together.

“Fuck yes. I’m going to enjoy showing you how much I love lawyers that can’t dance.” Before I can say anything, Zeke takes my mouth in a filthy kiss so deep that I can feel it in my soul. I clasp his back, not wanting to let him go.

Before I can reach down to stroke his cock over his jeans, the door opens and Prez says, “Get a fucking room, you two.”

Zeke and I step away from each other, discreetly trying to adjust ourselves. These thin pants don’t allow for much discretion.

I can’t form words to excuse my behavior, but Zeke does. “Oh Prez. Don’t be jealous. I know someone if you’re looking to date.”

A faint smile appears on Prez’s lips. In the eight years I’ve known him, I think I’ve seen his full smile only four or five times and only heard him laugh maybe twice. The man is a practically robot. People seem to like that, because Prez is never short on someone to keep him company, though I’m not sure he takes many up on the offer.

“No,” Prez says simply, shutting that down. “We’re just here to do some inventory.” Prez points to Rooster behind him who has a camera around his neck and a stack of papers in his hand. “Anything you plan to keep in this area or just the shit in the office?”

“It’s your office, Prez. Whatever you want to keep is yours. My job is to name and design the place, not run it. And I have a name. It was Shane’s idea.” Zeke winks at me and I roll my eyes, not playing into the teasing he and Prez have going on.

Prez raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? What did you come up with?”

“Inferno.” The pride in Zeke’s voice is evident.

Prez gives Zeke a long look, but I’m sure that’s how he looks at Zeke all the time. “Works for me. You two love birds keep it PG fucking thirteen down here while the grown-ups work.” Zeke chuckles and Prez and Rooster head to the office to do whatever it is they need to do.

“Come on,” Zeke pulls my arm towards the exit. “Let me feed you so you can go back to work.”

My stomach growls right on time. “Thanks.”

“How did your interview go?” Zeke asks and my anger rises just thinking about the end of it. Had that not taken place, I would say it went very well. Hell, even with the warning, had I just said thank you and left, it still would have been fine. I’m not so sure my last comment did me any favors, though.

I wish I could go back and not spout my mouth off like that, but I couldn’t listen to him talk bad about my family. I have to figure out how to balance my work life without having to give up my personal life. I can figure something out. I always do.

To answer his question, I say, “Fine until I was warned to drop the MC as clients.” I tell Zeke about the interview, then tell him the unsolicited advice that Mr. Clinton tried to impart on me before I left.

Instead of Zeke getting upset at the bullshit Mr. Clinton said, he chuckles. “Fuck that guy. You’re one of us. Do you plan to drop us like he wants you to?”

“No,” I tell him adamantly. “Just like you said I belong to you, you belong to me. I’m not giving you up for some limp dick fucker that can’t take his own advice.”

Zeke throws his head back and laughs a deep belly laugh. “Limp dick fucker, huh?” I nod but crack a smile. Sobering, Zeke leans against my car, pulling me to stand between his legs. “This is your dream, Shane. I’m sure we can find another lawyer so you can get what you’ve always wanted. Prez will understand.”

It means a lot that Zeke would try to find me a workaround, but it’s not his problem. I’m the one that decided to stay on as their lawyer and I’m not going to drop them because of the close-minded fucking people in this town. There are no laws that say we can’t be friends just because they’re my clients. It’s not like me making partner will affect my personal life. My ability to defend clients is not dependent on who I hang out with.

I wrap my arms around him. “No. I’m not worried about it. If I don’t get the position because I hang out with you guys, that means they’re looking for someone that will fit their aesthetic, not someone that’s good at their job.”

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