peaky blinders imagines

breaking and entering; alfie solomons

Ollie was a little confused to be seeing you for the third time that week. Not that it was anything against you, he'd explained, but Mr. Solomon's girls were usually one and done. But here you were, Friday morning, and you were traipsing out of Alfie's office, adjusting your scarf.
"Why're you so special, anyways?" Ollie asked, putting down his clipboard and leaning against a wall to face you.
"I don't know."
"He doesn't believe in love, I don't think," Ollie told you, looking contemplative. "If he did he'd be married by now."
Shrugging, you gave him a half-hearted goodbye, anxious to escape the conversation that was becoming more and more uncomfortable.
Whatever sort of relationship you had with Alfie was purely based on attraction, and you were confident you didn't love him, but you had found yourself missing him in the lonely hours you spent typing up notes in your office. He was unusual in the way he carried himself, much more salt-of-the-earth than the snobs who unfortunately provided you with your paycheck.
You didn't know if Ollie had said something to Alfie that had scared him off of you or if he'd just been busy, but not one of the calls you'd gotten in the past two weeks had sourced from the Jewish side of London.
That Tuesday had been a particularly grueling shift, fielding calls from Buckingham Palace and Parliament alike, and had left you questioning if your admittedly luxurious secretary's salary was really worth it. You walked up the steps of your apartment fully intending to make dinner and then collapse into bed, but your heart jumped into your throat when you realized the door was unlocked. Grabbing an umbrella from the container near the door, you crept in, inching towards the light of your living room.
Bursting in, you brandished the umbrella at a very shocked looking Alfie Solomons, who held up his hands and gave you a sheepish smile, waggling a red rose vaguely in your direction.
Placing the umbrella up against your armchair, you crossed your arms and glared at him, waiting for him to clear his throat and talk.
"I realize that this may seem a little...odd."
"Just a bit."
"Wait, wait, love, hear me out." Alfie took a few cautious steps towards you to tuck the rose behind your ear. "This was intended to be romantic."
"You broke into my apartment."
"I...am aware of that. Would you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?"
You regarded him for a long moment before dropping unceremoniously onto your couch, patting the spot next to you and letting Alfie take his time and adjust himself into place.
"Ollie told me you don't do relationships."
"Nah, love, he told you I don't do love." He grinned a bit at your shocked expression. "Yeah, I was listening. Better know what goes on in the four walls of my own bakery. And don't get ahead of yourself. I don't love you yet."
"Yet?" you echoed.
"Let me take you to dinner. We'll go from there."
You regaled Alfie Solomons with your best glowing smile, the one previously preserved for your boss' wife, and nodded.