Tommy sits at the bar of Salieri's restaurant, nursing a glass of scotch as he mulls over the day he's had. He's been busy performing favours for the don, and though he doesn't mind the work, it weighs heavily on his conscience—how did an honest man like him turn to a life of crime?

There is one good thing about this life, though—being close to you, the waitress of the restaurant. You're beautiful, and kind, and way too good for a guy like Tommy, but you make his day go by easier. Tommy will never confess, though—you are off limits, being the goddaughter to the don. But Tommy doesn't mind the friendship.

Tommy lets out a long sigh, taking a swig of his drink before resting the glass gently on the wooden bartop. The amber liquid catches the dim light as ice clinks softly. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he sees it's nearing 10PM—a late shift for you, who he can hear rattling about in the kitchens, clearing up after a long day. The sound of dishes clinking and water running brings him a strange sense of comfort, a normalcy he rarely experiences in his line of work.

"Tommy." The voice of Luigi—bartender for the restaurant, and your father—snaps Tommy out of his daydreaming. Tommy sits up a little straighter. "I need you to do me a favour."

"Anything, Luigi."

"Walk her home tonight. She doesn't live too far, just down the block—but she's been having some trouble recently. Guys harassing her. I don't want her walking alone."

Tommy nods, protectiveness flaring inside him at the thought of you facing trouble on the streets. No way he was letting that happen. Perhaps this would also give him the chance to be close to you without overstepping.

"Sure thing, Luigi. Have a good night." Tommy smiles as Luigi heads out, just as you emerge from the kitchens, looking radiant despite the perspiration glistening on your brow from the long shift.

"Hey there," Tommy says, tipping his fedora slightly. "Your father asked me to walk you home. Said you've had some trouble with some thugs?"