In-Between

Polvo stood in front of the elaborate wooden desk. As he walked into the office before, he took notice of the detailed carvings and inlays along the beautiful piece of furniture. The gorgeous desk almost made up for the ugliness inside the man that sat behind it. “Mr. Poplip. Your father says you are of use to the company. I would consider it to be your utmost priority not to prove him otherwise.” Polvo stood with his hands gripping each other behind his back. His teeth gritted as he stared into the eyes of the CEO. He unclenched his jaw and spoke as clearly as possible. “Are you saying you don’t trust my father, sir? Despite having worked with him since the beginning of your career?” It was the CEO’s turn to grit his teeth. “You seem to misunderstand, Polvo. Your father, I trust. You, on the other hand, are not your father. Now, I’ll ask you explicitly. Are you, Mr. Poplip, of use to my company?” Polvo rarely thought of people other than himself, but in that moment, Dorothy Vorgund fought her way into his head. Her family’s little shop on the corner of Burns Street and GearLock Boulevard, where he spent so many days as a kid. That shop was on the surface. Now, as he stared Don Gorov in the face, he stood in the top floor of the GoroCo skyscraper, the first completed building of the Undercity. “Well?” Gorov said impatiently. Polvo blinked his thoughts out of his head and refocused his eyes on the Don. “Yes, sir. I am of use to your company.”