the red room • alfie solomons

two

The light shone down on her, she could feel the heat radiating to her skin. As she started to perform her act, she noticed a new man amongst the crowd on this Friday night. Knowing he was watching her, she closed her eyes and immersed herself in the jazz music. Whenever she performed it seemed like an eternity in mere minutes, everything was a daze, yet felt so surreal. Before she knew it her performance was over, and she had to rush backstage in order to get ready for the group number coming up. She changed into the short red dress for the group number, before sitting down at a makeup table.

"Nice to see a full house tonight." She heard a thick cockney accent say, looking up to see a Mr. Alfie Solomons behind her in the mirror, leaning up against the wall. "Particularly enjoyed the part where you were here."

"Was it that you enjoyed my mere attendance or my performance, Mr. Solomons?" She was a Suffragette who stood up for herself, but just because she cared about women's politics did not mean she didn't enjoy the company of men from time to time. That was a dumb myth started by some assholes who assumed when women supported each other they only wanted to tear men down.

"Whatever keeps the men here is what I like." He said simply, quite aware of the two ways his ambiguous phrase could be interpreted.

"Well, the performance brings the men back." She looked over at the stage, seeing the women start to line up for the next number. "I'm back on in a few, watch." She said, not bothering to look back at the man. Deep under that abrasive exterior, there was a softer man. He was rough around the edges, but that was what made him attractive.

He certainly enjoyed the show. When he watched her, she intoxicated his soul. Slightly drunk from copious amounts of bourbon, he allowed himself to let his guard down a bit. She could see that, which only made him want to leave. In his line of work, women and children were often caught in the crossfire. Look at Thomas Shelby, his son was kidnapped and his wife murdered over the course of mere months. He saw no need to involve any innocent people in his life.

So, as much as he would've loved to have watched the finale, basking in the glory of her existence, he chose to simply wait outside for her. He knew the group dance was the last performance of the night, and it was already three in the morning. After about a half hour, the women started to shuffle out into the cold streets of London. She was the last one out, due to her requirement to lock up the joint every night. Being a manager had its perks, but this was not one of them.

This night, however, she found the boss man stood outside the Red Room, smoking a cigarette in solitude. He comfortably leaned up against the sleek black car, waiting for the managerial woman.

"You didn't watch the finale, what a shame." She broke the silence, attempting to sound witty even when she was a tad disappointed.

"Came out for a smoke, want a ride home? It's awfully cold." He gestured towards the air, which was extremely cold on that December night. "Come on, I'll give you a lift. You're fucking shivering." He grabbed a coat from the back seat of his car, wrapping it around her shoulders and opening the passenger door for her. She smiled, softly, and hopped into the warm vehicle.

He started the engine and looked over at her. "Thank you." She said, benevolent. Even though just a week ago she was screaming at this man, she felt oddly comfortable with him now. Probably because this time she didn't have any reason to be angry with him.

Last week he saw something in her. When she walked into his office, he felt himself becoming more acerbic, needing to maintain his role as the boss. She was gorgeous, but he couldn't let himself give in to her. That was why he left and waited outside. He just slipped up a bit when he offered a ride home.

He was about a minute into the drive home when she started humming an old tune. The way her hair shone in the moonlight, he struggled to keep his eyes on the road. Eventually, the car came to a stop. Swiftly hopping out, he immediately headed towards the car door, opening it like a true gentleman would.

It was odd that he chose to do something gentlemanly, she thought, looking at the older man. She knew he couldn't be all that horrible, she never sensed a feeling of danger around him, he was just a bit blunt. Always had a very caustic persona when approaching business whenever they interacted over the years. But when the business talk was over, like it was at that moment, she knew he had a heart of gold underneath the rough exterior.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" She inquired, looking at the ground before flashing her eyes to his face when she did not immediately get an answer. He was torn. One part of him screamed to go and be with her, the other told him it would be a mistake, to think about the consequences.

"Better not, I have a meeting with the Italians tomorrow morning," he responded truthfully. It was not a lie, Luca Changretta was going to ask him to kill Thomas Shelby. The man was a right cunt. "Maybe later though, as long as I can meet you at the club. Ya should be there though, if you're not we'd have a bit of trouble, yeah?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." She spoke gently, before turning her back to him and beginning the treacherous walk to the front door.

"Hey! Y/N!" She heard Alfie holler back at her. She swiftly turned to face him, only to hear him yell "Ya looked pretty fuckin sexy tonight." before driving off into the night.

As soon as she closed the door to her apartment building, she was met with the face of a concerned Elsie.

"Where the hell have you been? And who the fuck drove you home from the club?" She inquired, her blonde curls pinned to the top of her head, body covered with a pale pink silk robe.

"A man..." She replied bashfully, feeling her cheeks warm up. Elsie's concerned face was immediately adorned with a smirk.

"Does this man happen to be a tough Jewish guy who is the human form of the phrase 'fuck off'?" She teased, finding herself hilarious. "Come over to my apartment, I have a fresh bottle of wine and we could talk! Plus, I have some fantastic chocolates."

"You had me at wine."