Married to the Mob Boss's Son (Old Version)

Chapter 8

        Jackson gazed out of the window as he sipped his scolding hot coffee. Normally he would let it drop to room temperature, but on this day he had a lot on his mind. He thought about Gloria, only a woman could make him drink something hot enough to burn the roof of his mouth. He was completely smitten by her, she had him thinking of her every chance he got.

        It was well into the afternoon and he couldn't wait for the day to end. Just thirty minutes left and he would be on his way to putting on a designer suit with two toned shoes and taking Gloria out to dinner.

        He was glad the Sugar mill was closing early for the day. With his father's illness progressing, it was no matter of time before he was wheelchair bound. The Sugar mill did not live up to it's name, to say the least. Willie bought it out from it's previous owner, since then its been used as the bootlegging factory.

        Jackson drank the last of his coffee and walked over to his desk. With his father being so ill, he was the one running the business. He sat his cup down and began tossing papers around the neat surface. He was heavily considering upping the prices on their exquisite line of wine when there was a knock on the wooden door.

        He sighed and looked up. "Its open." He called out.

        The door went ajar and Earl Patterson, Gladys's father, stuck his head inside. Earl was an abnormally tall man with dark skin and graying hair at his temples. He was one of the factory's supervisors and a good friend of the Clearwater family. His jeans overalls were covered in grim and he smelled of %100 booze, showing that he had his hard day of work.

        "What's it look like out there?" Jackson asked.

        Earl stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Me and the boys are done for the day. All the crates are packed and ready for delivery first thing in the morning." Jackson nodded his head. "Hey kid, I was thinking we could up the molasses on the gin, we could make a lot more if its stronger."

        Jackson leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. Much like his sister he hated to be reminded of how young he truly was. At 24 he felt that he handled himself the way a grown man should.

        "I was thinking the same. I was also thinking of raising the price on the wine. The quality is too good to be sold so cheap."

        Earl nodded. "Sounds like a good idea." His face softened. "Be honest. How is Willie holding up?"

        Jackson was surprised that he asked that question. Before he answered he let out yet another long breathy sigh.

        "Not good at all." He admitted. "It wont be long before he cant walk.... I'm afraid of what comes next."

        "Its OK to be afraid, Kid. You just pray to God and he will see it through."

        The corners of Jackson's mouth turned upright.. He'd been going to church since he was a child and he never thought about praying, until now.

        "Thank you Earl."

        With the final goodbye Earl walked out of the office. Jackson instantly resumed going through the papers. His mind was back on Gloria when the door opened.

        "Is there anything else you need Earl?" Jackson asked, not bothering to look up.

        "Actually Lad, I came here to talk to a Jackson Clearwater for a wee bit."

        The unknown Irish accent caused Jackson to look up quickly. A seemingly tall overweight Irish man stood at his door. He wore a dark brown suit made of wool and a matching fedora. Jackson's eyes trailed down to his shoes. Snake skin. His father bought the same kind from a fellow Irish shoemaker.