"Hello again, Mitzi."
"Well, if it isn't you again, Asa. You know, I'm startin' to think you're getting desperate with how many times you've called me these past few days."
"Not desperate. Annoyed. Concerned, perhaps."
Mitzi was in her office, around mid-morning, on the phone yet again. Asa had called her each day since Mitzi had reopened the speakeasy. He reminded her of his warnings, and when that didn't work, he started to state, as a fact, that she ought to shut down. More warnings, more urgency. Mitzi, with her profit uncharacteristically high, and so too her confidence, refused. Asa was getting insulted, as well as nearing his last straw.
"Just a difference in word choice, honey." Mitzi inhaled, her cigarette holder between her lips, "Anyway, what are you calling about now? The same reason as the last half-dozen calls?" She exhaled smoke.
"If that's how you want to reduce things, sure. You need to shut down your business. And I'm getting fed up with your refusal."
"I can make my own decisions, thank you very much. And I'm not gonna close down such a profitable business just cause you told me to."
"How about because I warned you to?"
"No."
"Ha, okay," Asa chuckled, "well, your business isn't gonna stay profitable forever."
"The same could be said about yours."
"Yours isn't on a stable foundation. It's propped up by band members, hostages, and coincidence. And there's no shortage of people working to pull it down. Treasurers, for example."
"And you."
"I'm not working to tear it down. I'm just a bystander, watching as it happens."
"That couldn't be farther from the truth," Mitzi snapped, her words dripping with venom.
"Oh, okay," Asa half-gasped as if in surprise, "you know what I think we need? Another lunch to discuss these things in person. Some things have changed, as you are wont to attest to, and I think a more pleasant, less vicious discussion is in order. Half-past noon. Whaddya say? My treat."
"You'll bring a couple of associates, I assume?" Mitzi recalled last lunch, with Mordecai having been brought.
"Why, I don't see why I can treat my employees to a nice lunch."
"Alright then, you can treat a couple of mine, can't you?"
Through nearly gritted teeth, in the face of Mitzi's self-assurance, he agreed, "I can."
"Great."
"Well, find us at the same place as last, doll." With the door to his office opening, him looking up to see Nico standing in the doorway, he finished off with a nearly solemn, certainly disgruntled, "I look forward to seeing you again." And he hung up.
Mitzi set down the phone and began to gather up a couple of associates. A tiny bit of deliberation, and she descended down from her tenement to find them. Rocky would be busy watching Mordecai, as he had been. Besides, she saw it a good opportunity to bring the recently somewhat mobile Viktor as a reminder of the Lackadaisy's firepower. And well, although he still was an awkward and not exactly threatening-looking kid, Calvin had proved himself useful a few times already. And without anything else to do, she might as well bring him out to lunch.
Returning to the Bevo Mill, Mitzi made her way to the seating and found Asa easily. Freckle had been here too, of course, and, for some reason or another, felt himself more in the mood to tackle a serious discussion about inter-speakeasy rivalries. Maybe it was because Rocky wasn't there. Maybe because he'd just recently taken on Drago. Or perhaps because he'd been involved in more shootouts and the like. Regardless, he felt surprisingly at ease. And Viktor, well, Viktor was still limping, still having trouble with stairs. But even with the setbacks he had, the injuries upon his person, he was still a threatening-looking individual. Threatening enough that he registered a near-instant reaction on Asa's face as he appeared and sternly approached the table. It was subtle and disappeared quickly, but he saw it. It was a good sign; he was still a threat when he wanted to be.
And sitting at the table already, was Asa, cigar in mouth, with a glass of water set before him. At his immediate left, Nico. He sat a bit back from the table, with room for his left leg to be resting on his right, perpendicular. He wore a dress shirt, top button undone, sleeves rolled up. He watched the group as they arrived, subtly smiling, leaning back. And at his side was Serafine, who was smiling a bit too eagerly as she watched the group draw near. She took a quick sip of water and returned the glass to the table. She wore a suit perhaps a tad too fancy for the lunch, with her hair combed back and makeup adorning her face. Pinned to the lapel, a titular marigold. Three empty seats were already at the table, and the group was seated. Mitzi sat across from Asa, with Viktor sat beside him, and Freckle between the two of them.
"Hello again, Asa," Mitzi greeted.
"Nice to see ya again, Mitzi. How's it going?" Asa smiled, a tinge of condescending attitude and annoyance creeping in near the end.
"It's good. Profitable. Despite some attempts at intervening," Mitzi picked her gaze up from the menu for a moment and glared at Asa.
"Well, whoever's doing that probably has your best interests in mind, you know."
"Doubtful."
The table was silent for a short period, with Mitzi looking at the menu, keeping quiet to assert authority over Asa, consciously or unconsciously. Freckle, taking only a second to watch the two, seeing that nothing more was happening and then looking down to the menu. And Viktor, who stared with a blank, or possibly discontented expression, towards Asa. Then, Asa piped up. "So, I see you haven't brought Mordecai with you."
"Well, why would I? He's plenty busy in captivity," Mitzi stated. That got a very slight, restrained reaction from the table, for varying reasons. "And who are these two, that you've brought in his place?" She gestured towards the Savoys.
"Ah, well this here is—"
"Nico," said Nico, giving something of a casual two-finger salute.
"Serafine, cher," smiled Serafine.
"Yeah, that's them. Siblings. And they should plenty stand in for Mordecai, as it were, Mitzi," Asa mentioned.
"I suppose they should. Good to meet you, then," Mitzi replied.
Freckle didn't notice he was staring at Nico until Nico looked at him and gave him a smug, yet vaguely threatening glare. He immediately looked down, returning to his menu, feelings of awkwardness engendered. His voice. His face. Freckle could even swear he saw something of a small, mostly healed cut on his head. Where Rocky had hit the intruder that night some days ago with a bottle. This was the intruder. This was the guy who tried to shoot both of them.
After another quiet minute or so, right as Mitzi was about to begin talking again, a waiter came over and took orders. Further than they had gotten with the last Asa-scheduled lunch, despite the increased tension. A few sandwiches, some soups, some pasta. Viktor didn't make it easy for the waiter, having not even taken a glance at the menu. The new three were given glasses of water, upon their requests. But when said and done, with the waiter out of earshot, Asa began to speak.
"So, I think we oughta talk about the reason we're here in the first place; you need to stop going through with this charade, Mitzi."
"It's a charade, is it?" Mitzi wondered.
"Yes. It is. You've got the illusion of prolonged profit, of success, but you don't. You have another unnecessary foray into this dangerous line of work, when what you should be doing is returning to your café and steer clear of bootlegging. It's dangerous, doll, let me tell you."
"You think I don't know that? I'm plenty aware."
"You don't act like it. You act like you think you can get away with everything you're doing. That nothing'll come back to bite ya. That you can ride the wave of coincidence and accidental success to a stable and prosperous business. But you can't. I know you can't."
"Your metaphors are just to hide your nervousness, Sweet."
Viktor continued to glare at Asa. Nico stared at Freckle, in an effort to scare him, and Freckle kept looking off to the side as if he didn't notice Nico's gaze. Serafine watched the argument with interest.
"Nervousness? There's no nervousness. My business has been, and still is, doing well, and—"
"So is mine."
"And," Asa continued, "yours isn't. Not for long, anyways. Profit will diminish. Things will come back to bite you. People will get hurt."
"Stop pretendin' you care about what happens to me, just say what you really mean."
"Hmm, I guess we are past that point, aren't we?" Asa smiled weakly. "Well then— shut down Lackadaisy."
"So you've been saying."
"Your business is encroaching on our patrons and on our profits. And your business's messiness is the last thing we need right now. The Feds are on the lookout for any speakeasies, as you should know, and any loose ends, or, say, hostages, you might have are a threat to everyone."
"Threat to you, that is. We've gotten the feds off of us, and our hostage is only a detriment to you, who relied on him for his skill. Now we're holdin' him. And you're not. We have growing profit. And you're losin' profit. It's going well for us, Asa."
"You know, you're being awfully confident for someone whose entire livelihood is out of their hands."
"That's not the case. Not at all."
"I beg to differ. You have only th—" Freckle, in trying to set down his glass of water, ended up putting it down at an angle, on his silverware, and before he could reach for it and keep it from tipping, it fell on its side. The nearly full glass spilled water across the table. It fell away from him, and splashed towards Nico, on the opposite side of the table. Dripping onto Nico, he immediately pulled his leg back to the ground and stood up. Nico and Asa started to soak up some of the water with their napkins, with Nico trying to dry his pant legs.
The waiter came by, working to clean up the water, supplying new napkins, as well as stating that he would be getting them a new tablecloth, seeing how the last one had been soaked. Freckle certainly felt sorry, spilling his water. But he sent a message to Nico. He could see when Nico, dabbing at his pant leg, shot Freckle an annoyed glance. So, in a way, Freckle had succeeded, in a minor sort of way. He had sent Nico a message, indirectly, of course, that he wasn't just passive and awkward. Even if it had been an accident.
A few minutes later, the tablecloth replaced, Nico's pants mostly dry, the table dried, and everyone settled again, Asa sighed and took a sip of his water. "Well, what was I saying?"
"Some sort of complaining," Mitzi said.
"Complaining? It's not complaining, it's a warning."
"I got the warnings, Asa; what's the point? What do you want us to do?"
"Alright then, I want you to, no, demand that you—" And just then, the waiter returned with a tray. Stopping Asa mid-sentence, the waiter began to set down plates of food. Apologizing for the spill, asking if anyone needed anything else, making sure that everyone had everything they ordered, and then wishing that they have a good meal before leaving.
And that shut Asa up for a couple of minutes; this was his lunch, after all. There was quiet whispering within each group, with Mitzi whispering or muttering things to Viktor and Freckle, and Asa, Serafine, and Nico quietly talking amongst themselves. But with the lunch in front of them, as well as the tension between them, there wasn't really any talking between the lot of them for a little bit. But after Asa had eaten some of his lunch, he used a napkin to wipe his mouth, took a sip of water, and piped up again.
"Well Mitzi," he began, "what I've been trying to say is that you're gonna stop. Stop the whole operation. Close down the speakeasy."
Mitzi swallowed her food and scowled slightly, "You want it closed? Completely?"
"Utterly. Don't open back up for business. Stick to your café, if you want to."
"I'm not gonna do that, Sweet."
"Yes, you will. Because if you don't, we're gonna have some big problems." Asa stopped talking and then opened his mouth to quickly add something, "No, you know what, I won't sugarcoat it; if you open for business tonight, the two of us are gonna be in direct opposition. And things are going to get violent." It was rather direct.
"And that's a threat?"
"That is a fact! It's not just a threat— it will happen if you sell even one more drop of booze." Asa kept quietly restrained, yet firmly angry, for the second half of his reply.
"So if we open, you'll attack?"
"If you open, then by god it's war."
Mitzi deliberated for a moment. And then, confidently, "We have no reason to stop. Business is good, and your scare tactics won't work. And we can resist any 'war' you start. So back off."
Freckle seemed a tad nervous, although his extreme interest in the exchange hid it. Asa quickly gained a furious countenance. With more of a forceful voice than a loud one, "You do it, Mitzi, and there's no going back!"
"Back to what? The same hatred and violence, just less apparent?" Mitzi stood up for her seat. "You're just as brutal as you say you'll be— you just lie about it. And we've been so far."
"Has Atlas?"
Mitzi was silent for a moment. "Boys, come on. We're done." She turned and began to leave. Viktor, barely a moment of hesitation, stood up and began to walk away, Mitzi doing the same already. Freckle took one last look back at the other three at the table. Asa, furious, stared at Mitzi. Nico and Serafine watched, still looking smug. He stood up and hurried towards the others.
"You open for business, and you'll wish you never had!" Asa almost shouted.
And they left. Returning to the car, Mitzi seemed nearly exhausted. She looked nervous and perhaps even sad, to a degree. And so they made their way back to the Little Daisy, having been warned. It was a credible threat. And perhaps Mitzi had downplayed the Marigolds too much. As it were, only time would tell.