Page 87 of Alfie: Part One
I’d taken him to a photo shoot once, back when he’d been a model, and as sexy as he’d looked in a suit, it hadn’t been him. The second part of the shoot, on the other hand… When he’d dropped the suit, they’d messed up his hair before placing him in front of the camera in only black briefs. The campaign had been plastered all over LA, with models wearing cocktail wear in one photo and underwear in the next.
Alfie refilled the mug again. “Don’t you think I can pull off a modern twist onPeaky Blinders?”
My forehead wrinkled, and I lifted my brows. “What?”
“That’s the style I’m going for,” he said. “It’s mad hot. Like, classic British. Nice slacks—the kind my ass looks irresistible in—and gingham shirts, maybe a vest…? I can’t do suspenders. That’s Kellan’s thing.”
I’d prefer if he’d stop talking, to be honest. I didn’t need those images in my head.
Alfie had never enjoyed going shopping and worrying about clothes, and yet, he had a knack for fashion. He knew what looked good, and he happened to look good in everything, as long as he was comfortable.
“I’m sure you’ll look fine,” I settled for saying. “I’m more concerned about you bringing a teenager to a pub.”
He cracked a grin. “They serve soda there.”
Uh-huh.
Colby shifted in his seat, and I side-eyed him.
“You know I don’t have any money, right?” he said quietly.
Alfie waved that off. “Don’t worry about it. If you’re gonna work for me, there’s some shit you’ll need. We’ll take care of it today.”
“How old are you, son?” I asked the boy.
“Sixteen, sir,” he answered.
“So you’re not done with high school.”
Alfie and Colby exchanged a look, and my darling ex faced me with a smirk.
“Don’t shit your pants, but he dropped out,” he informed me. “We’re gonna work on that, though.” That one was directed at Colby. “You should at least get your GED.”
Christ. “When are you going to do that? In between pub meets and late-night work emergencies in the bad part of town?”
Alfie cracked up and leaned back in the chair. “You’re so funny sometimes, West.”
There was nothing funny about this at all. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more irritated I became.
“You’re talking about pubs and shopping—and him working for you—when he could be in summer school,” I pointed out. “Depending on when he dropped out, there’s a chance for him to catch up and graduate with his peers in a couple of years.”
“All due respect, but I hated school,” Colby said.
“Most young minds do,” I replied. “That doesn’t mean it’s not important.”
Alfie smiled and scratched his eyebrow. “I got this, West.”
Oh, I was sure.
“Dad?” Trip called. “You’ve had your coffee now!”
“One cup is no cup,” Alfie muttered under his breath. Then he blew out a breath, squared his shoulders, and gripped the armrests of the chair. “Time to go be a daddy.” He turned to Colby. “We’ll leave in an hour or so.”
“Okay.” Colby nodded.
With that out of the way, Alfie rose to his feet, and in a fluid motion, he was sprinting toward the pool, causing Trip to light up like a Christmas tree. I hauled in a breath as Alfie did a flip into the water, sweatpants still on, and our son could not be happier. He was swept under by the waves from Alfie’s plunge,though he resurfaced a beat later and immediately swam toward Alfie.
Thatwas the energy Alfie used to bring to our marriage, and the sight of it alone was enough to breathe so much life into me that I knew I’d feel extra lonely the moment they left.