“He didn’t tell you?” she asks, her brows furrowing. “He told Georgie he wasn’t feeling well this morning.” Worry briefly crosses her features. “I hope he’s doing all right. He’s been leaving early all week.”
I clench my fist. “I’m sure he’s around.”
But nobody else in the event hall has seen him. Georgie evenshows me the timesheet she had Seven fill out to mark that he was leaving early.
“So he’s been gone for a few hours already,” I say, worry rising up inside me.
“You sure he isn’t at, uh, home?” Georgie asks tentatively. “Um, he’s Caleb’s boyfriend, right?”
“Yeah. I was picking him up for… for Caleb,” I answer. I realize I don’t know what people know about this whole arrangement we have, but there’s no way these people haven’t noticed Seven going home with three different men. Seven never hides his affection for us either—and I wouldn’t want him to.
“Thanks,” I say to Georgie, before heading back out into the hall. I check my phone, and there are still no texts from Seven. I grimace and dial Caleb.
He picks up almost immediately. “Yes?”
“Is Seven with you? I was supposed to meet him but I can’t find him,” I say. “If he’s with you or Vortex, that’s fine, although you could’ve texted me.”
There’s a pause, then Caleb says, “He’s still in the casino. Call security and have them check the cameras.”
I don’t know how he knows Seven’s still here, but that’s a relief. I hang up on him and call the security staff. After a brief back and forth, they let me know Seven is at the blackjack tables—the one that’s out of the way, not visible when wandering through the casino.
I sigh in relief, although that’s quickly replaced by annoyance.
I make my way to the out-of-the-way blackjack table.
No wonder I hadn’t spotted Seven when I’d come through here earlier. He tied his hair back and he’s wearing a Roi de Pique baseball cap. He grabbed a sweater from the gift shop too, which is baggy on him and makes his frame look larger.
The dealer, Nat, sees me first, and my expression must give me away because they glance warily at Seven before saying something to him.
I can see the way Seven tenses even with the oversized sweater, the way he sits a little straighter.
Nat shakes their head and says something else. I only catch the tail end as I approach, “—to be here, Seven?”
I pull a chair closer and sit down next to Seven. “Hit me,” I say with a growl.
Seven flinches and edges away from me. “Havoc,” he says, his voice strained. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” Nat says, nervously glancing from me to Seven then back. “I can’t deal you in. You’re an employee,” they tell me, like I don’t already know that.
“Oh? Then why’d you deal Seven in?” I ask. “He’s an employee too.”
Nat blinks at me. “He is?”
“Havoc,” Seven says quickly, “it’s fine. I’m notreallyan employee.”
I swivel my chair to glare at him. “Yes, you are. But Georgie said you left early, and then somebody else mentioned that you skip half the time! What the hell?”
“It’s not like I’m getting paid,” Seven says, and I’m surprised by the vehemence in his voice.
“What are you talking about?” I argue. “You’ve been getting several hundred bucks per day—for doing way less work than most people do, by the way.”
Nat doesn’t look like they want to be anywhere near this conversation. They’re still holding cards in their hand, and they say, “I’m going to take my break.”
Seven gives them a plaintive look, but Nat shakes their head.
“No, Seven,” they say. “This isn’t my business.”
“We’re in the middle of a game,” Seven pleads. “Nat…”