Ruggerio
I let my file fall on my desk with a loud thud as I sigh exhausted.
“Where do we start? Mullers or Starks?”
“Please not the Starks.” Frank slumps into the seat in front of my desk as I keep standing, passing my hand on my face.
“OK, the Mullers then.”
Dragging a file over my desk, I open the folder and let my eyes roam over the first page.
“This is ridiculous. What is the issue with them?”
Frank explains a bunch of things surrounding pending building permits and revisions of infringements at the building sites and I take my seat, burying my head in my hands.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Opening my bottom drawer, I take out a bottle of rum and two glasses. Frank is still rambling about a worker that didn’t appear at work anymore as I fill our glasses with the dark-brown-
