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

This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted by Denise defined by it’s numerical eponymous title.

Prompt word:

TYPE

“A word to the wise, Devereaux, she’s outa your league…

“”Lou, Diane and me, we’re just friends; after Haley, I vowed to embrace the lifestyle of the mono-divorcé,” my smile, while sincere was every bit a laissez-passer, like in that old Bogart movie, seeing how I was attempting a joke that contradicted a very dangerous man.

“Quite screwin’ around then, I need you to keep an eye on someone,” an fairly archaic adjective, ‘baleful’ stepped into my mental Green Room of my brain as Lou stared at me, but was immediately elbowed aside by a random memory of a grad school elective, ‘Myths and Comparative Religion’; a noun: Basilisk.

“Happy to help,” honest to god, I barely shifted my gaze to the young woman who had just stormed out of the Bottom of the Sea when Lou went full ‘go ahead continue to pretend I’m a friendly mob leader; I swear to god, I could feel his eyes on me.

“I just sent someone important to me over to that ‘something-something-Cafe-Bistro‘ joint you introduced me to, for a job, you know, like people in the straight world have,” his voice modulated into the charming, concerned business man, but his gaze remained on whatever vulnerability within me he’d settled on.

“Want me to make sure they don’t take advantage of her?”

Lou Caesare laughed his crocodile laugh, “No, idiot, I like them guys, your job, Devereaux, is to make sure she doesn’t fuck them or their operation up too much; at least not without me knowin’ about it all and all on the QT, you get me?”