Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is our contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted by Denise, guided by the simplest of rules: use the prompt word and tell a Story in exactly six sentenae.

So, when we last saw Rue DeNite, she was in the company of one Cyrus St. Loreto, owner of the Bernebau Company and all-around man of mystery. If you Click Here you can refresh your memories.

Prompt word:

BLOCK

“Ok, you can laugh, but this Cyrus guy totally gives me the willies,” Rue sat opposite Rocco at a table overlooking Biscayne Bay and beyond, the Atlantic Ocean; the ‘Crazy About You’ restaurant was less than two blocks from the Espirito Santo building. Resisting her host’s invitation to join him for lunch had taken a toll on her nerves, as charming as Cyrus St. Loreto had been through their initial meeting, there was an underlying quality to the man, almost completely hidden, that made her think of a moray eel staring out from the shadows of coral reef at the passing schools of prey. Rue accepted that a return visit to ‘look at the books’ was unavoidable, the prospect of maintaining her CPA charade brought back the hollow feeling of inadequacy of her first night dancing at ‘the Bottom of the Sea’.

“You’re doing great,” Rocco, diving into his role as bodyguard, met Rue at the restaurant in full ‘Tony Montana’, complete with gold chains, white suit and black silk shirt, his grin triggered the desired reaction in the girl Lou had charged him with protecting, sitting with a sensual grace that few Certified Public Accountants could pull off, she smiled, “But what about Frank?”

“Just stay with the icy-intellectual vibe and you’ll be fine,” Rue ignored her menu and let the tension leach out of her as she listened to the professional tone of her companion, which in his line-of-work always sounded like rock-solid confidence.

“I’m the one we should be worried about, I think that admin, Genevieve Novacaine or whatever, is trying to get into my pants,” Rocco watched Rue from the corner of his eye and was rewarded with Rue’s unsuccessful effort to not spit her drink all over the white linen tablecloth, catching her breath, they both laughed, “No, I’m serious, that woman is scary and, not for nothin, all I packed was my favorite handgun.”

The post Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine- [a Rue DeNite Six] first appeared on the Wakefield Doctrine.