"Bob?" asked a soft voice, and he swung around, seeing a woman's head stuck through the door looking around.

"Yes?" he asked, then recognized the tiefling woman from the day before.

"Ah!" she said with a smile, pushing the door the rest of the way open and coming inside. "There was such a crowd, I wasn't sure I was at the right place."

He saw that she was carrying a large box on her back, that limited her movements, and he rushed to help her set the box down.

"I imagine most of them are people eating soup," he laughed as she stood up straight and looked around.

"I did smell something devilishly delicious in the air," she said with a grimace. "Sorry, I was cursed as a child to say such nefarious things. I can sometimes get one or two things out, but it's awful trying to talk to anyone."

"I can't imagine that makes selling your goods any easier," said Bob, relaxing with the knowledge she had shared.

"It's just hideous! People find me so loathsome just because I'm a tiefling, they aren't willing to see that I'm not a black-hearted, evil fiend. If you would be willing to buy my goods, that would be so nice!"

He nodded and motioned for her to open the box so he could see what she had. There were several dozen of each kind of cookie, along with a couple dozen little hand cakes.

"I'm not sure how fast these will sell, how often were you wanting to bring this quantity by?"

"Oh!" she laughed. "This is easily a weeks' worth of work for me. If you sell them faster than that, please let me know and I will get perverted in the kitchen, but otherwise, I think once a week?"

Bob nodded, ignoring the obvious slip, and moved to get her the appropriate amount of money.

"You still want a copper for two cookies, and 5 copper per hand cake, right?"

"Yes, please!" she said, nodding her head.

"3 silver for the cookies, and 12 gold for the cakes."

She took the money and just looked at it for a moment, as if she couldn't believe he actually paid her. Slipping the coins into her coin pouch, she wiped her eyes and then threw her arms around him, giving him a tight hug, before rushing from the store.

Checking that she hadn't stolen his pouch or anything, he shook his head and moved the box over to the shelves. There wasn't room for them anywhere. Everything was already too tightly packed. Glancing at his counter, he decided he could put them there for the time being.

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No sooner had he gotten the first sets of cookies and cakes out on the counter, then the door opened again. Several street kids poured into the store, and stood there breathing hard, looking around.

"Can I help you?" he asked, setting the box down behind the counter.

"Mama Primrose told us to come see you, that you would give us jobs?" said one of the boys, that looked somewhat familiar.

"Are you willing to do as told, and not run off?" asked Bob, looking them over. They were all very young, and skeletal.

Jon came in, just them, carrying scraps from the food merchants, and paused to look over what was going on.

"Jon, do you know any of these kids?" asked Bob, suddenly getting an idea.

"Some of 'em, yes," he said, nodding his head.

A couple of the kids looked hopeful, while one of them looked uncomfortable.

"Timmy's a good kid, he would stick around with us some, and so's Percy, Lys, and Brad, but I wouldn't let Fergus work here. He's a cheat and a lazy-good-for-nothing!"

"Aw, Jon! You don't have to be like that!" whined Fergus, obviously not liking being singled out.

"Sure, I do! Master Bob don't want no one working here that runs with the thieves!" declared Jon, setting his bag down and glaring at the other boy.

"I don't run with them no more! Honest!"

"Why not?" demanded Jon.

"Go on, Fergus, tell 'im!" urged Timmy.

"They was wanting me to do things," mumbled Fergus.

"What things?" growled Jon, eyeing him.

"They was wanting me to git 'em girls! I told 'em no, and now I'm here. Alright already?" fumed Fergus crossing his arms and pouting.

"Mama Primrose said we could only work here if we was good," added Timmy, looking over at Bob.

"We all know that once you run with the thieves, you don't never get out. What happened for real, Fergus!?" snapped Jon.

Bob was just leaning back, watching with amusement. This was going far better than he thought it would.

"I wasn't really with them, not official yet. I never learned nothin' that would have them after me. Honest."

Jon seemed to mull it over, then turned to Bob. "I guess if you wanted to hire him, you could, but I would still keep an eye on him, and don't have him doing nothing that would catch the eyes of the thieves, they might try and get him back if they thought they could get something out of it."

Bob nodded, "Thank you, Jon."

Jon puffed his chest out, then took his bag into the back to unload it. The other boys watched him, with obvious envy on their faces.

"I need workers to fetch things for me around town. You will get to sleep by the fire, warm, get two hot meals a day, and warm clothes while you work. It will be up to you to make sure that my things get where they need to go, without going missing, understood?" he asked, looking each boy in the eyes.

They all nodded, very seriously, Fergus included. He sent them to get cleaned up with Jon, with orders to let them have a bowl of soup each, while he decided what jobs they would get. He knew he would have to speak with Martha about more clothes, and how happy she would be with the extra work. His coin was helping their family out a lot, and he thought she had some of the other widows helping her with the extra work, to spread the wealth amongst them.

Sam came back into the store and looked around, with two more guys with him.

"Alright, Bob, you want to run by us exactly what you were thinking?"

Bob smiled. They had talked quite a while about it, but he didn't mind going over it again, now that they were there and could see what he wanted.

"I want a mission board on this wall, by the door, so the adventurers can get to it without having to go all the way through the store. I want the counter moved here, and more shelves behind it, for extra goods. I want an addition to the east, here, where noble servants can enter without rubbing shoulders with the poor and adventurers, yet my counter can allow me to deal with both fronts. This wall will need to come down eventually, to allow me access to both sides. I want the upstairs to go over the new addition, for more room for my workers. I also want a wood stove, or nice fireplace here, on this wall, so both store fronts will be warmed. The soup kitchen needs expanded to a proper kitchen, and I want a dining hall, for people to be able to stand in line, and eat out of the elements."

"Do you also want the upstairs to extend over the dining hall?" asked Sam, even though they had discussed this. "And do you want this side of the store front to be open to the dining area?"

"I would be interested in having it be open, so I can see what's going on," said Bob, thinking about it. They had talked about the extra space over the dining hall, but not the store front being open to the dining area. "I wouldn't mind leaving the option for expansion later, but no area above the dining hall for the moment."

"Alright. We'll start with the mission board and the shelves, since they won't take very long, then we'll work on the eastern addition. I'm not sure how far along we'll get on it tonight, though. You still want the good rock foundation, like we did for the underside of this?"

"Yes, please."

He nodded, and quickly got his two men to work.

Trudy came in a few minutes later, making a beeline for him. The gleam in her eyes made his stomach drop, and he wondered what she had to say.

"Bob, when your father shows up tonight, you need to convince him not to visit his favorite bar, the Dragon's Breath," whispered Trudy into his ear. "Lord Clark has paid several men to entice him into a bar fight and then stab him to death. Even if he survives, he would be blamed for the fight, which would hurt his reputation in the eyes of the City Lord."