I smiled a little and looked out the window. “I think I’d rather have the opposite power,” I said, and he just laughed.
I got to know Sergio a little bit during that time, though he kept to himself for the most part. The man slaved away in that kitchen all day and all night, and lived in that bakery as far as I could tell. It was working for him though, because as soon as the doors opened, people flooded in and he always sold out everything he made. He could never bake it fast enough for the customers that streamed in.
During a couple of those mornings, I sat with Gino in a corner and sipped an espresso while people came in to speak with Dante. I thought they were all gangsters at first, until an older woman came through the door and approached his table. He stood and helped her sit very respectfully.
“What’s he doing?” I asked Gino.
“Talking to some grandma,” he grunted.
“No, I mean, I thought he was taking meetings.”
Gino frowned. “Yeah. That’s what he’s doing.”
“But I thought…” I trailed off.
Gino smiled a little. It was lopsided because of the scar on his lip, and he didn’t smile often. “Oh, I get you. No, he’s meeting with regular people. That lady lives a few doors down and comes to see him like once a week. She never asks for anything, I think she just likes to talk, and he can’t help himself. Always indulges the old bat.”
“Wait, people ask for things?”
He shrugged. “Sure. That’s what he’s doing. People in the neighborhood come and ask him for things. Some of them are already paying for his services, so they don’t need to do anything else. They’re already associates. Some of them are just normal folks, and for them he’ll do one favor for free, but after that he’ll start asking for things in return.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Like the Godfather. One day, he might ask for a favor…”
Gino shook his head. “Nah, not like that. If they’re not useful, he won’t do shit for them. He’s not a moron.”
I leaned back and watched as Dante smiled at the old woman and let her take his hand and hold it between her own tanned, wrinkled fingers. She wore a navy-blue sweater over gray pants and had a brown cane leaned up against the table. Her shock of curly white hair stood on the top of her head like a mushroom. Dante listened to her speak, nodded, spoke back, and eventually escorted her back out the door. He sat down and a man wearing a business suit approached, sat, and began to speak.
It went on like that. He’d pick me up in the morning, we’d open up the bakery together, and once the actual staff showed up, normally a woman named Maureen that wore crimson eyeshadow, had old tattoos on her arms, and dressed like a biker lady, he’d sit at a table and take meetings while I drank coffee and watched.
I learned a lot about him in those days. And I had to admit to myself, it was nice.
I was starting to like being around my father’s killer.
And that scared me more than anything.
* * *
The morning rush came in like usual as I leaned back in the booth and sipped the coffee Sergio made me before the old man disappeared back into the kitchen. He always made a point of coming out and chatting with me, and I think he liked having a young woman around for once.
Gino paged through the Philadelphia Inquirer, glancing at the headlines before flipping through it. “You read that thing?” I asked him.
He glanced up. “Just because I’m a thug, I can’t read the news?”
I laughed. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just, you’re going too fast.”
He grinned. “I’m a thug. I just read the headlines.”
I smiled back and sipped my coffee, and couldn’t help but feel a chill at the thought of how comfortable things were beginning to feel. Dante sat back at his table, eating a muffin and staring at the window. He hadn’t gotten many petitions, and I could tell he was getting a little bored. He checked his watch, this silver, gleaming thing with diamonds studded in at each hour, the most ostentatious thing he ever wore, although I knew for a fact that any one of his suits probably cost as much as my entire wardrobe. They were subtle about their expense, whereas his watch was all about flash.
He put the muffin down, blueberry crumbs on the plate and the table, and stood up. He nodded at Gino. “Enough for today,” he said.
I stood and stretched my legs. “Slow?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Who knows.” He walked over and looked down at me, a little smile on his lips. “You getting interested in my business?”
I shook my head. “You drag me here every day. I guess I was bound to get curious.”
He snorted. “Please. I see you staring, watching. I know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah? What am I doing?”
He tapped my forehead and leaned close. “You’re thinking.”
I swatted his hand away and he laughed, standing back up. There were a few customers, and I noticed an older woman with blonde hair cut short to her ears was staring at us with a disapproving look. I ignored her and turned toward the door.
“Come on,” I said. “Don’t be a dick. Drive me home.”
“What’s the rush?” he asked. “Gino’s not done with his paper.”
“Gino can’t read,” I said.
“I can read,” he protested. “I just don’t.”
“Don’t let her get under your skin, kid,” Dante said and nudged Gino as the young soldier tried to stand. “Relax. Stay here and finish up. I’ll take her home.”
“Boss—”
“It’s fine,” Dante said. “Relax. Stay here. I’ll come pick you up when I’m done. Go tell Sergio I left and ask him for something to eat.”
Gino nodded and frowned. “I hate asking Sergio for food. He always makes me do dishes.”
“Then do
