he Dog Clause Chapter 2

I, Julian Thorne, have few virtues. But I am rich, and I am patient. When I see something I want, I get it.

I had him looked into.

The file was delivered to my office. Just a few thin pages, but they made me wince.

Leo Sterling, 20. A computer science prodigy at NYU.

His grandmother was in the hospital, long-term care.

His father was a world-class scumbag. Ran off with his high school sweetheart years ago, leaving Leo to care for his mother, who had been paralyzed. The dad’s parting words were, "I’ve done my duty. Who the hell wants to be a nursemaid for a vegetable?"

Leo sold the house, borrowed from everyone he knew, and somehow kept his grandmother’s heart beating. He was juggling medical debt and loans, going to classes, and working two jobs, ending his nights at my bar.

My chest felt a little tight. If I had been in his shoes, I couldn’t have done half as well.

In my mind, the script was supposed to go like this:

I, the wealthy patron, offer to sponsor him. He, full of pride, curses me out and tells me to go to hell. Then, I swoop in, pay off his nana’s medical debt, and he, for the sake of his family, reluctantly and humiliatingly agrees to be mine. Thus begins our angsty, push-pull sugar daddy arrangement.

That’s how it’s supposed to work.

However, the reality was this:

Leo stood in front of my desk, placed a folder neatly in front of me, and said in a clear voice, "Sir, this is my full health report, including recent bloodwork. All my vitals are excellent."

Me: "..."

Before I could reset my expression, he continued. "Additionally, before we sign, may I review the specific terms of the arrangement? I'd like to understand the obligations, the confidentiality clause, and the termination conditions."

I managed a dry, "Oh." I pushed the contract my assistant had drafted across the desk.

He picked it up and just stood there, reading it. Line by line.

I stared at his perfect profile, my throat suddenly dry.

What was happening? I was supposed to be the one in charge. Why did I feel like the rookie while he was the seasoned negotiator?

I cleared my throat. "Leo, do you understand what you'll be... required to do?"

He looked up. "Yes, I do."

He recited, as if reading a job description: "Kiss you, touch you, hold you, serve you, satisfy you in bed. Be on call, maintain loyalty, and provide physical and emotional value as needed."

"Stop, stop!" My face was burning. "You get it."

"The terms are acceptable, sir. I just have one request. I'd like specific days guaranteed for visiting my grandmother to be written into the contract, with priority execution."

I nodded. "Fine. That's reasonable."

We signed. Just like that, Leo was mine.

I got him in to see the best specialists in the city and set up a new treatment plan for his nana. He sat in the consultation room, perfectly still, answering the doctor’s questions with quiet precision. He was like a model student.

I smiled. He was actually... kind of adorable.

I knew he was brilliant. If life hadn't buried him in debt, I never would have had a chance.