Page 36 of Alfie: Part One

“Nap time is boring!” Ellie argued. “I think you need a donut. Donuts are the best. Daddy thinks so too.”

Yeah, she and West were the donut fans. Trip and I were mildly obsessed with ice cream instead. We had a whole shelf dedicated to ice cream toppings at home, from chocolate chips and cookie crumbs to jimmies and sauces.

“Ice cream is better,” Trip said matter-of-factly.

“Preach, son.” I nodded.

“Oh! Don’t we drive here when we go to Daddy’s?” Ellie pressed her face to the window.

I chuckled. “Pretty much. We’re just going a bit farther today.” We were heading out to Villanova, which was a step up from Ardmore.

I’d seen a picture of Finn’s house, and it was…grand. Like, three stories of colonial luxury all the way through. An actual estate with its own cul-de-sac.

“I have a question,” Trip said. “Can we have dinner with Dad sometime? All of us together like we did before Christmas?”

Shite.

I shouldn’t be surprised by his request. It came from time to time, from both of them.

Around holidays, West and I made an effort to do something with the kids as a family, as a united front, but it was fucking rough. Every time it happened, it was so clear that Trip and Ellie wanted us that way. The first year following the separation had been hard on them, and they were just now getting used to having two homes.

Maybe we could find a compromise. Instead of going to some resort where we slept in separate rooms anyway, we could just meet up for dinner in the city or catch a game. Going to the movies would work too. In the past, we’d tried to do it up big, like go away overnight. Vacations had been important to us.We’d loved spontaneous adventures. Last Christmas, we’d had two days in New York.

“I’ll talk to Dad,” I replied. “Maybe he can come with us to the festival next week.”

“I want that!” Ellie exclaimed. “And, Daddy, you promised to get your face painted with me.”

“Of course we’re getting our faces painted,” I said. “I think I’ll make a cute butterfly.”

That made both of them laugh.

Ten minutes later, we arrived on Finn’s street, and it was one millionaire estate after another.

I could never feel at home in a neighborhood like this. West’s area was bad enough. He’d wanted a bigger house when we’d started our search, and I’d kinda flipped my lid. To be fair, at the time, we’d shared a two-bedroom in Pacific Palisades in LA, and it’d been fancy enough in my eyes. Then West had mentioned four or five bathrooms, and I’d been like, what the fuck? We didn’t all need our own bathroom. It was fucking nuts. But that was how he’d grown up.

As I stopped in front of the gate, Ellie gushed over the house, and Trip said he hoped the pool was nice.

I shook my head to myself and rolled down the window. When I’d been their age, I’d been happy to run through sprinklers or go to a public pool.

I pressed the button, and within seconds, a male voice that didn’t belong to Finn filtered through.

“Hey, it’s Alfie and his two hellions,” I said.

We were buzzed in, and the wrought-iron gate opened slowly.

I drove up the driveway, passing three expensive cars. I recognized Kellan’s R8. The garage off to the side was closed, and it had four separate garage doors.

That part didn’t surprise me. Since I’d started working for Kellan, I’d learned they loved cars. As in, they went to car shows all over the world. What they did there was anyone’s guess, and I had a handful. Last year, Kellan had divulged a tiny bit. He’d had me schedule sit-downs for the “crew they were sending to Geneva.”

The Sons might be quick to give someone a chance, but they weren’t quick to offer up details or information. I’d been in the dark for months initially. On a need-to-know basis. And frankly, I didn’t need to know a whole lot when I managed Kellan’s schedule. I had a brain full of names and ranks, but it wasn’t like I knew what was discussed at sit-downs.

I parked in front of an Aston Martin and made sure to tell the kids to be careful.

“We break, we pay,” I added.

It’d been a genius idea on Kellan’s part to imply I had to bring my kids, because it kept most of my focus on them—rather than on the fact that I was meeting Liam Murray in a matter of seconds.

What would he be like? I’d seen photos of him, of course. I’d probably seen him with my own eyes when I was a kid too, though I obviously couldn’t remember.