At exactly five minutes until noon, Millie arrived at the docks with a basket looped over her arm. Squinting, she shielded her eyes against the sun with her hand and scanned the length of the busy port. It wasn't hard to find Anthony_Foreman. He stood head and shoulders above most of the workers. He was just a few hundred yards away, helping a group of longshoremen haul something heavy looking. When he straightened up, Millie put two fingers against her lips and whistled. The shrill sound carried ridiculously far, causing several men to whip their heads around curiously. Millie grinned a little. It was a pretty commanding sound from a for such a slight framed girl. Since she was 6 and her uncle taught her how to do it, the whistle was the loudest sound she could make, and she had a good time using it. 

Anthony waved from far away, and Millie headed to the rocky area of shore where they usually sat and ate when the weather was nice. She was pulling out a container of potato salad out of the basket as her big brother flopped down. Millie handed him a cold, glass bottle of lemonade. 

"You left this morning without breakfast. Have you eaten at all today?" 

Her tone wasn't harsh, but there was a vocal hint of a lifted eyebrow. 

Anthony shook his head as he pressed the cool bottle against the back of his neck, letting the Cool sweat from the bottle stave off his own heat. An audible sigh could be heard from the man as he removed his newsboy cap and set it down beside him. His sister was the one person he'd take it off for outdoors.

"Does a beer count?" He glanced to Millie, knowing full well what the answer was before stretching his legs out and leaning back against a comfortable rock. "And what about you? Bakery getting ready to close up early today again, or you just decide to skip out on em?" He gave her the same eyebrow she had shot at him a moment ago in conjunction with the question, but that was broken by the sound of an all-too-close seagull who was clearly eying up whatever was in Millie's basket.

Anthony grabbed a small rock and flung it, enough to keep the bird away, but missed hitting the thing entirely, as he did ninety nine times out of a hundred.

"One of these days I'm going to hit one of them, and then they'll back off for good."

Millie watched the toss, trying to surpress a laugh. 

"Bullfeathers. You miss them on purpose. You wouldn't hurt one of those flying rats anymore than you would a baby bunny."

Her smirk turned a little more serious as she handed her brother a plate with a huge helping of potato salad and a turkey sandwich on freshly baked rye bread. 

​​​​​​"No, Vito shut it down for the day after some big goons came by and threatened him. I really thought they were going to beat him to death right there in front of me. It's getting ridiculous."

A half sandwich and some potato salad landed on her own plate and she pulled her legs crossed under her to eat. They ate in silence for a few moments, then Millie cleared her throat. 

​​​​​​"I did some snooping. I know you told me not to, and to keep my nose out of it, but Vito was out and I just had to know. It turns out he's in pretty deep with some bad dudes from Queens. I mean, into it for tens of thousands. Way more than that building is worth. Also, all those days he goes to visit his mom in the home? He's gambling. I found tickets from 4 different casinos in his drawer. Anyway, all this got me thinking. One way or another, I'm going to lose my job - either when Vito tries to sell the place or gets his face beaten inside out by the lumberjack brothers."

She swallowed a bite of salad, then continued. 

​​​​​​"But...what if we talked to the big guys we work for now? Maybe they can make some kind of deal. That's what they do, right? Not to help Vito, he's a scumbag, but maybe we could get the bakery. I could run it. I mean, I basically do already. I know I've only been there 2 years, but I'm really good at it."

Millie watched carefully for her brother's reaction. He was pretty good at being stone-faced sometimes. 

​​​​​​"What do you think?" 

Anthony couldn't help but grit his teeth. He thought for a moment in the silence and sighed.

"This is supposed to be an easy gig you know. I find some extra shit a way to get past customs and the city police, and I make a little extra so we can buy a nice little place out on long island one day. Now you're talking about getting in bed with these guys?"

He shook his head and took a bit of his sandwich.

"I don't know sis. It's a big ask, tens of thousands? And what about what else you might owe em? I mean, if it's just about the money, we can pay if off in a couple of years probably, if I work all the overtime I can get, and if the bakery keeps doing well. But what interest are they gonna want? And what happens to Vito? Are they gonna call that a favor? You think they'll just hand him over and not ask for something back one day?"

He took a long pull of lemonade, and let the cool drink calm his own nerves about the situation. 

"Listen I know you love the job, I know you've kind of found your calling baking, but if it's the money, there's always a job here for you. Nice in the office, not too hot, and you sit behind a desk all day. I don't even ask you to do any work." He put a hand up to stop the protest before it came. "I know the whole point of the bakery was to get out on your own, out from under you brother, but if it goes belly-up, you can always come back until you find something else. It's not like I'm asking you to stay here forever."

He looked out over the water, and then glanced back toward the other men again, some of whom were eyeing Millie up they way they did. He'd have to knock skulls again.

"Animals are one thing, men are another." He looked down to his sister then and put one hand on her shoulder. "Just think about it. If you decide to ask some of the guys in suits, I'll be there with you. Always for family right?" He finished his sandwich then and started on the potato salad without another word.

Millie grinned and nodded as he rested his hand on her shoulder. His reply had been pretty much on par with what she'd expected. Anthony was extremely protective of his younger sister; always had been, and probably always would be. Still, his initial hesitation had worked its way back around to something resembling a "whatever you want." It certainly wasn't a no, right? 

"Ok. I'll think about it. But I've already invited Mr. Garou to come by the shop tomorrow. I won't say anything, unless it comes up, and even then I won't ask for anything. I'm just planning on losing him up with some sweets and give him something to think about. You know, indirectly present an opportunity."

Anthony was a smart man, and Milie had picked up a lot from him. She was learning a lot from working at the bakery, even though Vito was a terrible businessman himself. Millie didn't want to push it with her brother, though. She knew his concern was from a place of love and caution.

Glancing over Anthony's shoulder, she saw a few of the men peeking her way. Millie rolled her eyes a little, smirking. 

​​​​​​"Since I've got extra time today, I'm going to pick up a few things from the market before I head home. Mom had been asking for some oranges. You need anything?" 

Anthony nodded, his mind pre-occupied now with the prospect of Mr. Garou making a call on the bakery. That was bound to go poorly if he found out anything about Vito. After all, the bakery was located in the Bronx, and the guys who Vito was paying protection money to, well they were from Queens. That wasn't going to go well.

"Right, oranges." Was all he said though, as if mentally making a note to himself to pick up oranges on the way home. "Anything else? I think we might need some flour so ma can make pasta this weekend. She already got the tomatoes, but the new dried pasta in the grocer just isn't up to snuff and I think she wanted to make it on her own."

He turned when he felt his sister stand and looked her way as she shook her head. "What? What did I say?"

A bigger smile crept across her face as she dusted off the skirt of her dress, then lightly scruffed his hair a bit. 

"You're such a big goof. Don't worry about it. I'm not going to get us into anything crazy. Not like that time I talked you into taking me to the fair and told that guy we wanted to audition for the side show." 

She laughed at that memory as she started to clean up from their lunch. Reaching into the basket, she tossed a big, red apple towards him. 

​​​​​​"I'll get the stuff from the market, you just get home safe, ok?"

Anthony nodded as he chuckled. "If only my bear would have grown in a little more thick we might have pulled that off."

He took a big bit out of the apple and walked his sister to the edge of the lot.

"Listen, why don't you let me come up to the bakery when Mr. Garou is there. It's not gonna hurt to have us bother there, and I can come by on my lunch break, or take the day if I need to. Besides, Vito could use the extra muscle anyway from the sound of it. You talk with him in the morning and then phone me at the office down here and I'll come up town."

He gave his sister a peck on the top of her head and saw her off as he turned back toward the lot.

"Alright you degenerates, which one of you wants to lose an eye first eh?" He called out as he picked up a piece of rebar in his free hand.

The Next Morning

Millie had opened the shop early. She took her time getting everything ready. The display cases were spotless, and every pastry had been arranged to look picture perfect. The bread baskets were full of fresh offerings, and coffee was brewing so that the shop smelled of both fresh bread and hot coffee. She'd even made bagels, which was something they used to do, but Vito gotten lazy about. 

Anthony would be arriving first. She hadn't argued at all when he suggested to be around when Garou came by. In fact, she liked the idea of showing the big guys that they were a close family - a team, in a way. Millie dusted the few sets of tables and chairs, then set out a bud vase on each table to brighten the old place up a little. Her boss really had let things start to go down. His heart wasn't in it anymore, and Millie was starting to wonder if it ever really had been. It didn't matter, though. Millie loved her work and loved what she knew the bakery could really be. She just needed help getting it there. 

The bell on the door jingled. When Millie stuck her head out from the kitchen, she grinned. 

"Morning, Anthony! Come on in! Soon as I get these rolls out of the oven, I'll bring you a cup of coffee. You want a doughnut? Or a Danish? Both?" 

Millie was practically giddy. Her curled ponytail bounced under a bandana as she moved expertly around the kitchen. 

Anthony nodded. "Just the coffee for me kid." Anthony stretched as he looked around the place. "Looks nice in here, Vito's really taken a step back huh? I know for sure he hasn't done any of this, this has "Foreman" written all over it." He smiled, more than a bit proud of his sister.

As she was milling about behind the counter, he took a look in the display case, and on the shelves. All kinds of breads and cakes, and cupcakes, and stuff that Anthony had never actually seen before and couldn't put a name too.

He pointed at one piece that looked like a pretzel, but was really nice looking. "Is this just normal bread? Or is this something else? It's real pretty. How long does that kind of thing take you guys to make?"

He was keeping one eye on the door while talking, just in case Garou came in.

Setting a tray of muffins on the counter, Millie peered over to see what her brother was asking about.

"Oh, that's called challah. It's a rich flavored bread, made with lots of eggs."

She finished loading muffins into the glass display and slid the tray through the window into the kitchen. She dusted off her hands on her apron and leaned back against the wall for a break. 

​​​​​​"The bread and pastries take almost no time to bake. It's the prep  work and proving that takes the time. But, I make pretty much all of the dough on Saturday morning, and we keep it in the big ice boxes to use all week. The cakes, muffins, and cookies are made every 3 days. There's a schedule for everything, and as long as I stick to it, things run pretty smoothly."

The aroma of fresh coffee tickled her nose and she snapped her fingers. 

​​​​​​"Your coffee- silly me."

Quickly, she got a mug from the cabinet and poured a steaming hot cup. Sometimes, the bakery just felt like home. Even though Vito owned the place, it had been the only place she truly felt like she'd been in her element- where her real talents could shine. She'd be damned before she let her slob of a boss lose it, or let it fall further into disrepair. As she handed the coffee cup to Anthony, the first part of her plan to save the place walked through the door. 

As he was about to head out, he looked across to the table and saw a note which had been left, his name in bold lettering scribbled across it. Opening it up, he remembered the invitation Millie had extended him for a freshly baked lunch and a coffee. She was proud of the place she worked at and had put in much effort to ensure it continued to thrive through recent weeks. Turning to the coat rack beside the large double doors of their HQ, he picked out one of his finer jackets and made his way out to pay her a visit.

As he neared the location, his head looking down to read over the note a little more, wanting to ensure he had the correct address, he felt the presence of a few men in front of him. Continuing in his stride, he looked up to notice the pathway somewhat blocked by three of the Queens boys. He already knew of these guys, small time mob but always causing issues around the place. Seeing Garou, they immediately separated to allow him to pass, understanding the difference in rank for New York, a smart decision.

Arriving at the bakery, he removed his jacket, resting it over his forearm, then entered the premises. The tiny bell above the archway rang, notifying the occupants of his arrival as he smiled and looked around the store. Whilst it was small and cosy in size, the first thing he noticed was the vast array of options available for cakes, each decorated in an absolutely glorious fashion. Almost seconds later, he was hit by the fresh scent of bread being cooked in an oven, a smell one could never fully appreciate.

As he looked to his right, he noticed Anthony sat at one of the small tables, happily munching on a pretzel style item, coffee in his other hand, seemingly in his element whilst he enjoyed the food Millie had obviously prepared for him.

“Anthony, I was wondering where you were! How has the day been treating you friend?” he asked. “Is your sister around? I promised her I would come and pay a visit.”

As he gazed out the window for a moment, he noticed the three Queens lads looking inside, still being somewhat nosey. He hoped to himself that they had not been arrogant enough to try and extort this property, that wouldn’t bode well for them. Perhaps…they didn’t realise the connections Anthony and Millie also had now.

From the kitchen, Millie heard Garou greet Anthony. Her stomach did a few flips. This was it; her moment to shine. Or, at least, make a respectable impression on the boss. Whether it would be her brains or her baking that did the trick, well, that was yet to be seen. If it saved the bakery, she didn't care. 

"Garou! Welcome, sir! I'm so glad you could come in!" 

Millie emerged from the kitchen with a clean apron over her blue cotton dress. She had a ribbon tied around her bouncy ponytail, and a little silver bracelet on her right wrist with a single charm dangling from it. Millie grinned to her brother, who was happily tucked into a muffin, then back to Garou. 

"Please make yourself comfortable. I have your lunch just out of the oven. Do you want coffee? Or tea? I also have freshly made lemonade."

"Millie, it's a pleasure to see you! I honestly didn't realise just how fantastic this place was gonna be, it's quite the delight!"

Turning to his left, sliding the chair back slightly as Anthony seemed extremely content chomping on the freshly baked muffin, he then rested his blazer over the rear before taking a spot at the table.

With a smile, he flicked his gaze back across to Millie once more.

"Would it be greedy of me to ask for a Coffee, milk and one sugar, along with one of those lemonades too? Whilst I'm here, I might as well see why Anthony has been visiting this place everyday. Is it the delicous food, or does he like the freebies you keep giving him Millie?" he looked back across to Anthony, a cheeky smile on his face this time.

"How has business been so far Millie? Everything going smoothly for you? I can imagine that with bakery goods as fancy as these look, your food must be in demand quite often around here."

With a laugh, Millie shook her head. 

"Anthony is my tried and true taste tester. Any time I try a new recipe, he's my quality control."

Cheerfully, she prepared his coffee as requested, and then poured a tall, cold glass of lemonade. She brought them to the table and looked around the bakery with a proud little smile.

"It's a great little place, yes, but it's not what it could be."

Without moving her head, she shifted her eyes out the front window to where the goons from Queens were not-so-stealthily trying to see what was going on from a distance. 

"Let me go and get the meal, then I'll fill you in on everything."

Quickly, she disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray of plated food. The meal was an open-faced pot roast sandwich. Slow-cooked beef roast was thickly sliced and placed on a pillow of buttery mashed potatoes, then drizzled generously with a savory brown gravy. All of it was arranged over two slices of fresh brioche bread. 

Three plates were placed on the table, then Millie took off her apron and sat down with the two men. She unrolled her flatware from a napkin and placed it on her lap. 

"I hope you like it. This is mostly my mother's recipe, just with a few additions of my own."

With his back sat facing the shopfront window, he smiled as he laid eyes on the platter of wonders that Millie laid out before him. It was one of the best looking meals he had seen in a long time, so picturesque that it could have even been confused for something that a popular news publication would use in their advertisement panels.

"Millie, I must say, this food looks splendid!"

Quick to grab a hold of the metallitic fork which adhorned the table he sat at, he then slowly dug it into the mash, almost not wanting to eat too fast, preferring to enjoy the experience. The consistancy of the potatoes was like something he could only compare to clouds, fluffy and made with pure love. She was a master and he could instantly tell that she poured her heart and soul into everything she prepared in that kitchen.

After he brought the first forkful to his mouth, excited to allow his tastebuds to embrace the food goodness, his eyes couldn't help but notice a slight shift in Anthonys face. Within a few moments, Anthony has polished off his own lunch and was standing up, brushing down his overalls and preparing to head out.

"Done so soon Anthony? You seem to be in a rush friend."

As Anthony picked up his newspaper and rolled it into a more compact shape, sending a quick smile in the direction of Garou and Millie, he then swiftly left the bakery.

"Well that was.... odd? Is work getting to him lately Millie? I don't recall ever seeing Anthony like this?" Garou asked.

With a sigh, Millie watched as her brother made a rather abrupt exit. She knew that smile. He'd reached his limit of patience with the two creeps across the street. 

Her eyes followed him until he was out of sight, then she turned her attention back to Garou, leaving her own plate untouched for now. 

"He's going to ruffle feathers with those two idiots. The ones you saw gawking as you came in. They're from Queens, and they are looking for the owner, Vito."

Over the meal, Millie explained how Vito had let the bakery go nearly to shit while he gambled away almost everything-even selling one of the ovens to cover debts. 

​​​​​​"Those two, out there, he owes for God knows how much. They've been hanging around for days looking for Vito. They've even gone as far as trying to squeeze me for the cash, since I'm always here."

Shrugging, Millie looked around."

"I love this little place. I'm doing everything I can to keep it afloat, but if Vito doesn't get his debts squared, I'm afraid I'm going to show up to a pile of ashes one morning."

The time had come. Millie steeled herself and tried to look confident. She pushed her plate aside. 

​​​​​​"That's actually part of the reason I asked you here. I know those two guys are...you know...connected. I can't do anything to fix this myself, but I really want to save this place. I was hoping you...or someone you know...might be interested in investing in the bakery. I figure, if someone offers Vito enough to pay off his debts, he'd be willing to give up the place. He hates it anyway."

There was determination in her eyes. This had been her first and only job, and she'd found her calling. She knew it. She just needed help. 

​

​​​​​​

As he ate, he continued to simply 'listen'.

He was completely aware of the two men that he had passed on his way to the bakery but people of their rank in our line of work, they are never really a threat to the more connected members of the crime families, especially those within New York.

The expression on his face began to slowly change as she spoke more and more, explaining the situation. He could feel that everything she said, every word, was sent with conviction and sincererity, yet also trying her best to hide the obvious plea for assistance. Reaching out his hand, he curled his fingers around the chilled glass of lemonade, bringing it to his lips and drinking it until all that remained were a few traces of pulp.

"Millie, this turf, it's ours. I can apprecaite that Vito may have been unaware of the full workings of how things are run around here but being leaned on and making payments to anyone from the Queens mob, it's unacceptable. I will give them the benefit of the doubt on this occasion and entertain the fact that it may have been tied to some form of loanshark business as opposed to being payments for protection money. Loans are personal business and that's not something we get involved in when it comes to how other families handle their business."

"Is Vito due back in soon?", he asked.

Before Millie had the opportunity to answer, two nearby gun shots rattled through the air.

The expression on his face switched once more as the familiar sound echoed, his heart sinking slightly for a brief moment. Rising in an instant, his jacket being left on the chair, he then turned to Millie and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Do me a favor and just wait here, please."

Exiting the bakery, he swiftly made his way to the direction of where he heard the shots coming from.

The sharp sound made her jump, but it didn't really register with her what it was until Garou was looking her in the eyes and asking her to stay where she was. Her own heart began to race, along with her mind. All she could do was nod her head and watch as he sprinted out the door. At that point, she closed her eyes and folded her arms across herself.

"Please...please...not Anthony. Don't let Anthony be involved."

​​​​​​Surely not. Anthony didn't have a gun on him. He wasn't that kind of person. Surely the two guys from Queens weren't stupid enough to go after him. 

Fear kept her feet glued to the spot she was in, and her eyes stayed locked in the direction Garou had gone in. 

His swift steps turning into a faster sprint as he ventured out of Millies' line of sight. He didn't wish to scare her even further by his own actions, although he understood that she would likely comprehend the gravity of the situation.

He could instinctively tell that he was close, the rippling clang of the bullets meant that it could only have been a few blocks away at most. As he approached the nearby alley, his foot turning at an angle to halt his momentum, he gazed down the long dark path as his eyes zeroed in on the exact location.

The next few moments seemed to pass slow as his mind began to work and analyse the situation before him. Two men, seemingly low ranked, Goomba at best, standing over the form of Anthony as he slouched back against the wall, a deep pool of crimson flowing from his body. "No", Garou angrily shouted to himself. The man closer to Anthony, larger in physique than the other, sporting a rather glorious purple swollen eye, clearly the handy work of the man pressed against the wall below him, definitely Anthonys' strong swing. The second Queens guys seemed to be stood further back, almost shook from the actions of the other, cowering slightly.

The situation was now clear.

Within a split second, the gunner aimed towards the NY Consig, the barrel shaking furiously. Raising his arms into the air, Garou looked down to the ground for a moment, the incoming rain bouncing off his shoulders as he shirt began to soak up the moisture within the atmosphere.

"DO NOT FUCKING MOVE, WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE! I WILL SHOOT YOU! DON'T THINK I WONT!" the man shouted, his voice almost carrying the full brunt of his fear at this point, even though he tried his best to stand strong in front of his younger accomplice.

Garou took a step forward, his gaze now lifting to meet that of the man pointing the pistol directly at him. He then smiled and nodded but it appeared to be sent further, not at the two Queens members themselves.

It was at this point that they realised what this meant but that tiny lapse of judgement would prove to be all that was needed. From behind them, two hulking men, Bodyguards, wrapped their arms around the young mafioso, prohibiting any further movements they would now make as the killers gun fell to the cold street surface. With his hands held behind his back, Garou made his approach and then knelt to pick up the same weapon which had just been used to shoot Anthony. Briefly checking on him, the results brought a mixture of sadness and fury.

Whilst still alive... he knew that the lights would soon unfortunately go out...