Burned

1

            "Sir?"

Alfie looked up from his paperwork, his eyes glancing over his glasses. Ollie had opened the door and was standing there, waiting for a response. "I'm sorry, but when did fucking knocking go outta style?" The gangster asked gruffly.

"Sorry, sir. But, uh, Mr. Shelby is here." Ollie winced slightly. "Should I let him in?"

"You fucking search him?" Alfie let his glasses fall against his chest, hanging from the chain around his neck.

"Yes, sir." He nodded.

"Alright then let him in." The man waved his hand and reached for his cane. He grunted as he stood up.

Tommy walked in slid off his hat. "Morning, Alfie." He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, it is, innit? Fucking lovely. Always lovely when I've got a fucking Shelby in me office." The rough man held out a hand to the chair across from the desk. "Go on, go on, sit."

Tommy nodded and sat down. He placed his hat in his lap and stretched out his legs.

"Now why have you grace me with your presence, Tommy? Up to no good?" Alfie settled back in his chair and laced his fingers over the top of his can. He leaned forward slightly.

"Actually, I've got a gift for you. Word's been going 'round that you're looking for a secretary." Tommy reached for his cigarettes and lit one.

"Yeah, I have. Y'know Ollie's great, right, love the kid. But his wife's got another ankle biter on the way, right, I figure he could have more time with his family."

"You gone soft, Alfie?" He asked in his deeply steady voice. The cigarette balanced carefully between his lips as he spoke.

"Yeah...you fucking wish, Shelby. "Alfie replied fiercely. He pointed two fingers at the man. "I'll have you know, right, that I've got plans. Big plans. Gonna make the name Solomons more respected, yeah?"

"You don't think people respect you now?" Tommy's icy blue stare studied the burly man.

"Well, respect, yeah, has a sorta loose meaning, don't it?" His rings clicked against his cane as he twitched his fingers. "Men respect me 'cause they know I could have 'em killed for fucking looking at me wrong, right? But is that getting me control of London? 'Course not. Be nice to have the higher-ups look kindly upon me. That way, when I need a favor, maybe I won't have to threaten them, yeah? 'Sides, might be fun to rub elbows with the ones with golden spoons shoved up their arse. You know I'm a man of taste, mate."

The Shelby man nodded with his eyebrows raised in contemplation. "Sure, I suppose. Just thought you liked being threatening." He cleared his throat and took a long drag of the cigarette. The smoke making hazy clouds around the dim office.

Alfie narrowed his eyes and flexed his fingers slightly. "What were you saying 'bout a gift?"

"Young woman came to my office yesterday asking for protection. Guess word got around London that Tommy Shelby will take care of business if offered a good price."

Alfie less than subtly rolled his eyes and grumbled incoherently.

"She came with a good piece of her inheritance, s'long as I made sure her husband couldn't find her."

"Right...and why should I care?" He looked uninterested with a head shake rubbed his eyes.

"I think she could be some use to you. She wants a job, needs the money. You need a secretary, I think that's a good enough fit, don't you?" Tommy rested his elbows on his knees.