Hello, welcome to my new story. I hope you enjoy it, and don't forget to give a review to let me know what you think!
And without further ado, I present to you:
Chapter I - REFUSAL
"Absolutely not!" he replied, crossing his arms loosely on his chest.
"That wasn't a request, it was an order," said the man behind the wooden desk.
"No disrespect, but I don't give a damn".
The older man behind the desk sighed deeply and sat down to his chair.
"You are a very stubborn man, Skipper".
"I'm a man of principles, Rockgut," the man addressed as Skipper replied.
The man behind the desk, Rockgut, sighed again.
"Well, how about if I ask it as a favor to a friend?"
As Skipper looked suspicious, Rockgut continued: "It's Manfredi's son, you know".
"Well why don't you tell him to do it?"
"Skipper!" Rockgut roared and shot up from his seat.
"I know that was uncalled-for," Skipper said, trying to calm down the older man.
"But I'm sticking with my point."
Rockgut sat back on his seat, and after a while of silence he spoke: "Fine. You do that".
Skipper casted a very suspicious look at the older man.
"What are you looking at? Go, get out!"
Skipper got out of the office, and as he stood in the big hallway, waiting for the elevator, he glanced at the door which had led him there. "B. Rockgut" was put on the mosaic glass window on it with thick black letters. What hell had Rockgut meant with 'fine'? No refusal to his orders or requests was ever 'fine' with Buck Rockgut. He was a man who got his way, and he certainly wasn't a quitter; he would've never made it to the head of the office if he was.
Skipper's thoughts were interrupted by a 'bing' sound made by the elevator as it stopped and opened its doors to Skipper. The man got in, and pressed the button to go to the first floor, get out and get home.
-:-
"What was it, Skipper?" he asked from behind the newspaper.
"Rockgut wanted a favor," Skipper sighed as he, too, sat down at the table.
"You declined?" the other man asked, sounding weirdly interested and disinterested at the same time.
"You're sharp, Kowalski. I knew it the day I met you," Skipper sneered.
"Thank you, sir," the man, whom Skipper addressed as Kowalski, replied in the same manner, and returned to his paper.
Skipper stood up, went to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Then he walked out of the kitchen, through the dining area and to the living room. He stood by the windows and looked outside.
The view of the morning sun shining over New York was laid out in front of Skipper as he silently stood in their apartment's living room, drinking his coffee.
"Have you seen Rico lately?" Skipper asked without taking his eyes off of the view.
"No," Kowalski replied plainly.
"Hm," Skipper grunted and took a sip from his coffee.
But soon enough the silence in the apartment was interrupted by a knock on the front door.
"That must be him," Skipper muttered as Kowalski folded the paper he'd been reading and went to answer the door.
"Umh, Skipper..." the man suddenly heard Kowalski say.
"You might want to come and take a look of this".
Skipper sighed and put down his -now empty- coffee mug. What could possibly be behind the door that a smart man like Kowalski would need assistance with it?
But as Skipper reached the door he saw that Kowalski had made the right call. Behind the door was a young, slightly frightened-looking boy.
"He gave me this," Kowalski said and handed Skipper a folded paper.
"Hello Skipper.
This is Manfredi's son, James.
Take good care of him.
-B. Rockgut"
"That son of a bitch," Skipper cursed as he folded the paper back again.
"What?" Kowalski asked.
"I knew it; nothing's ever 'fine' with Rockgut," Skipper muttered.
"Get the boy inside, Kowalski," he then said to the other man.
"I've got a phone call to make".