Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

West Scott

Y eah, I thought I’d heard the garage door.

I yawned for the hundredth time this morning and opened the front door.

“Or you can get your shit together,” I heard Colby say. “Go to Dublin and work your ass off. Get sober.”

I stopped on the stoop, unable to help myself.

“No, I’ll be staying with Mr. O’Dwyer until we figure things out,” he said next.

Mr. O’Dwyer.

First of all, his name was still Scott. Second of all, Alfie hated being called sir and mister.

“Yeah, aight. Bye.”

Fair enough, not too much to eavesdrop on there.

I stepped out of the shadows and onto the path leading to the driveway, and I cleared my throat to alert the boy to my presence.

He spun around next to Alfie’s SUV.

“Good morning, Colby,” I said. “Did you sleep all right?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s one comfy-ass bed, sir.” He squinted for the sun. “Is the boss up yet?”

“Ah, no. I’m letting him sleep in,” I replied. “But there’s breakfast on the terrace if you’re interested. I’m sure Alfie will be up soon enough.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I could eat.” He hesitated for a beat, so I nodded at the door and held it open for him. That lit a fire under his ass, and he hurried over. “Thanks. I don’t wanna overstep, and if the boss has plans?—”

“I assure you, he has no plans for the next couple of hours, and you have to eat.” I took the lead through the kitchen. “Do you drink coffee? Otherwise, there’s juice outside.”

“Juice is nice. Damn, so is this house.”

“Thank you.” I glanced back at him, and he was taking it all in. “Speaking of, there’s no overstepping here. Make yourself comfortable. Including calling Alfie by his name.”

I stopped at a cabinet to grab an extra plate and bowl, and then a spoon from the top drawer.

“Okay…” He’d probably stick to sir and boss for a while.

I smiled to myself and slid open the doors to the terrace. Colby reminded me a little of Alfie. Not in appearance—Colby’s hair was a much lighter brown, and he was shorter and scrawnier too. Pale green eyes, a scar on his chin, softer features. But how he fumbled with his words and seemed a little rough around the edges was so Alfie. Like Alfie had told me last night. Or this morning.

Ellie was cuddled up in a lounger with a blanket and her tablet, and Trip was almost finished with his breakfast.

The sun was already brutal, so I had no plans on venturing out to the row of loungers anytime soon. In this heat, I stayed under the terrace roof, where I had not only shade but a ceiling fan and an AC unit that Alfie used to mock me for.

“AC outside? Are you fucking crazy, papi? You’re literally throwing money away.”

Sue me. I didn’t deal well with extreme heat, and we had ninety-four degrees in the forecast for today. It was absurd.

“Is that Daddy’s friend, Daddy?” Ellie asked. “Can we wake him up now?”

One thing at a time. “It is, princess. This is Colby,” I said. “And no, we will let Daddy sleep a while longer.” I pulled out a chair for Colby before I sat down in the one next to his. “Colby, this is my son Trip, and that’s Ellie over there.”

“Hi.” Trip stuck the last of his muffin into his mouth and turned to me. “Can I go in the pool now?”

“Sure, but take it easy for a while,” I told him. “No diving or spending more time on the bottom of the pool until your food’s settled.”

It was my laziest breakfast so far this summer. I usually liked to prepare a nice spread if I didn’t have work early, because I tended to sit here for hours while the children were in the pool. But this morning, I was useless. I’d brought out store-bought muffins, including one kind that didn’t upset Ellie’s stomach too much, milk and cereal, and some fruit.

“Feel free to raid the fridge, Colby,” I said and picked up my coffee mug. “I’m afraid I was too tired to do anything elaborate.”

“What’re you talkin’ about? This is plenty.” He grabbed a blueberry muffin and dove for the milk and cereal too.

I sipped my coffee and unfolded my newspaper, though I had no intention of reading it. I wasn’t sure I could. I only wanted to sleep.

Preferably in the guest room with Alfie…

Fuck.

Fuck .

Yesterday had messed me up irrevocably. As if the outing to the park hadn’t been enough? I’d had to wait through the night, worried sick about what his dumb ass might get himself into, and then listening to him in the kitchen when he got back…?

I dug deep within myself to find any traces of anger, and they were still gone. Evaporated.

I was under no illusions; the anger would be back eventually, maybe once I’d rested properly, but we’d still had a breakthrough last night. A major one. He’d offered me more details, and I was desperate to believe him. I was fairly certain I did. Partly because he’d been honest enough to tell me there were things he wouldn’t share. It hadn’t been a tell-all to placate me. He’d met me halfway, and we’d…started building up our trust again.

Which was terrifying.

With trust came hope and stupid wishes. Wistfulness and yearning and…

I exhaled and closed my eyes briefly.

There was no way I could go down that road again. It was bad enough that I still loved the son of a bitch beyond measure.

Was it even possible for me to move on? If I hadn’t succeeded when I’d been furious and high on hurt, how could I possibly get anywhere when I was starting to see him in a new light? One that wasn’t colored by betrayal and miscommunication.

Perhaps it was a good thing he was suddenly a mobster.

I would eventually come to accept it—if what he’d told me was true, that he wouldn’t be near danger. And considering he’d brought home a teenager because of his bleeding heart gave me enough hope. That bleeding heart was big. Alfie was a good man. He cared deeply, and he hadn’t lost his morals completely.

That said…

I couldn’t share my life with a criminal. I just couldn’t.

I had to draw a line somewhere, and regardless of how I’d felt last night when he’d told me about his priorities—how he cared only for his family and community—it wasn’t right. My reaction hadn’t been right either. I’d felt ridiculously attracted in that moment, and I could barely believe myself.

As decent citizens, we were supposed to care enough to want what was best for everyone, right? Not only our closest.

It would do me no good to even entertain fantasies about him.

I glanced over at the pool and found my reprieve in watching Trip. My sweet boy. He was just floating around on his back, with a smile on his face and eyes closed.

He loved the water so much.

At this point, we were on our fifth bottle of sunscreen.

“You’re welcome to cool off in the water too,” I mentioned to Colby. “I’m sure we can find a pair of shorts that will fit.”

I’d noticed he was eyeing the pool as he ate.

“I better not,” he said. “If the boss wakes up and says we’re leaving, I wanna be ready.”

I didn’t want them to leave. I wasn’t ready to see Alfie off after everything we’d talked about last night. Plus, he’d take the kids with him. It was still his week until tomorrow afternoon.

Just moments later, I heard the door slide open behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to regret it. Mother of Christ, he was only wearing a pair of low-riding sweatpants and a bed head. So much ink and so many abs on full display.

That infuriating little fuckknuckle.

“Morning.” He squinted and rubbed one of his eyes.

I cleared my throat and faced forward again. “Good morning.”

“Morning, boss,” Colby said.

“Kid, it’s Alfie,” I heard him reply. “Finn’s the boss.”

“Daddy! You’re up! You slept here!” Ellie had entered the chat. She threw aside the blanket and darted toward Alfie, who chuckled and met up with her at the edge of the terrace. “Hiii!”

“Hi, baby girl.” He picked her up.

“Dad!” Trip called, looking toward Alfie. “Can you swim with me?”

“Next time, have a sleepover in my room!” Ellie insisted.

Alfie took her rambling like a champ, and he carried her over to the pool to give Trip his attention too.

“Lemme get some coffee first, buddy. I gotta talk to Daddy about the weekend too, ’cause guess who called and woke me up? Nonna.”

Ellie gasped. “Are we going to Nonna and Pop-Pop? Yay!”

“At some point,” Alfie chuckled. “We’ll find a day for youse to have a sleepover.”

I shook my head quickly, realizing I was staring. My chest felt tight too, and I knew why. Seeing Alfie here again wasn’t good for my sanity. We’d always rocked mornings together. They’d been sacred to us, especially in the summer. I’d often get to work late so we could have breakfast together and discuss our next adventure.

Ellie wanted to play with her dolls by the pool, so she skipped inside to get them, and Alfie sat down across from me and reached for the thermos. Only for him to realize he’d have to go inside to grab a mug.

I wordlessly handed over mine.

“Thanks.” He exhaled in relief. “I don’t know that I’ll be good for anything today. Fuck me, I’m beat.” He refilled the mug and sent me a brief glance. “You gotta be dead on your feet too. Did you get any sleep at all?”

“About two hours.”

“Damn.” He took a long swig of the coffee with his eyes closed. “Ah, just shoot it up my vein.”

I felt my mouth twitch.

He was so…goddamn beautiful. Out of this world.

“So Giulia called?” I asked.

“Mm.” He nodded once and yawned. “She asked if she could borrow the kids tomorrow—till Saturday. I said I’d talk to you.”

Right. Because my week began tomorrow.

“That’s fine,” I said. It wasn’t fine, but I could entertain myself. They loved going to Nonna and Pop-Pop’s.

I had paperwork to catch up on. That was also a way to spend a Friday night.

“Okay, I’ll let her know.” Alfie flicked a glance above me, and I could practically read his mind. He was feeling the breeze from the AC unit, and it was too hot for him to give me shit right now. Instead, he zeroed in on Colby. “Do you own any nicer clothes? Kellan texted, and we’ve got a pub thing tomorrow.”

A pub thing?

“I have a pair of black pants and a shirt,” Colby replied. “Does that work? Is it for the thing at Mick’s?”

Alfie inclined his head. “It’ll be my first time. Yours too, I assume.”

“Yessir.”

“What’s Mick’s?” I asked, peering over to make sure Trip was okay.

Still floating around, splashing a little with his feet.

“A pub downtown,” Alfie answered. “Once a month, Kellan arranges a pub night for Sons and some family, and he calls it team building.”

I snorted under my breath. A team-building exercise at a pub. Of course.

He shifted his gaze to Colby again. “We’ll go shopping today. I’mma pick up a whole new style for myself.”

Another one? What would it be this time? He wasn’t a suit-and-tie kind of guy, and it’d frustrated me every time he’d shown up looking all uncomfortable, tugging at his tie, standing rigidly…

The Alfie I’d fallen in love with had worn jeans and tees, short or long sleeves. Always formfitting.

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 on Peaky 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.

That was 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.

Having grown up with two incredibly dull parents, I’d vowed to myself to be more fun the day I had children. But there was no denying that Alfie took the prize, and he’d nudged me out of a comfort zone or two in the past.

His wild streak had always been so infectious to me. When we’d taken Ellie to a playground back in LA, Alfie had taught me that parents didn’t have to stand by and watch. We could be there in the sandbox with our children. We could sit on the swings with them, we could chase them around, and we could build sandcastles.

My God, I missed him so damn much.

I watched Colby finish his juice, and I was talking before I could stop myself.

“Alfie doesn’t have a guest room,” I said. “He has a home office with a bed. I have a guest studio with all the amenities you could possibly need—with room for additions. I’m sure a young man like you would like an Xbox or a PlayStation.”

He scrunched his nose and was obviously utterly confused.

“You could stay here,” I clarified. “You do your thing with Alfie—work for him or whatever mobster plans he has for you. But you could live here, with the only stipulation that you let me try to convince you to go back to school.”

I was truly pathetic. I was using a sixteen-year-old to somehow make my house less empty, to force Alfie to come out here more often, and maybe even let me see my children when it wasn’t my week.

“You don’t have to decide now.” I had to do some damage control. “Think about it. Run it by Alfie if you want—the offer’s on the table.”

He scratched his forehead, glanced over at Alfie in the pool, and then back to me.

“I don’t get your deal, sir,” he said.

“You don’t have to call me sir,” I responded. “My name is West.”

“Aight… I don’t get your deal, West . Youse’re friends, but there’s a weird vibe. You know he’s with the Sons? But it’s a problem, innit? And you don’t know me. Why would you offer me a place to stay like that?”

All good questions.

I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat, and I felt like a complete idiot.

“Alfie and I are navigating a tentative friendship, I suppose you could say,” I answered slowly. I had to choose my words carefully. “We didn’t part ways on good terms, and now we’re trying to…improve our relationship as co-parents.” That sounded all right, didn’t it? “As for my not knowing you… You’re right. I don’t. And I’m also not happy about Alfie’s…affiliations, if you will. So consider that my reason for jumping in without knowing you properly. You’re so young, and if I can plant a seed or possibly guide you in another direction, I’d say that’s worth it.”

Colby flashed me a lopsided smirk, and it was the first time he looked more at ease. “I’m never gonna be the guy who goes to college and then spends his life working for the man.”

Hmpf. “You don’t know that yet. Nor do you have to work for the man ,” I pointed out. “With a good degree, you could become anything you want. An entrepreneur with your own business?—”

“But I already know what I need to know,” he laughed.

Oh boy.

“In that case, you have nothing to lose by staying here.” I shrugged and stole back my mug from Alfie’s side of the table. “Unless you’re afraid I might convince you, of course.”

He snorted, still amused. “I ain’t scared.”

“Then, there you go,” I said. “Consider my offer. If nothing else, it might be nice to be able to retreat to privacy when a six-year-old girl starts screaming at seven AM because her hair ties are crooked.”

It was known to happen.

Colby winced. “Sounds like my cousin’s place. His kid screams all the fuckin’ time.”

Seed: planted.

Perhaps I should have worked late on Friday rather than left early.

I’d gone in early, to make sure I was caught up on everything before the weekend, and I’d even brought breakfast for my morning meeting with my production team. But as the building had filled up with weekend staff for tomorrow’s and Sunday’s specials, I’d found myself reserving a tee time instead of getting an early start on next week’s projects.

We could expect some headlines after the weekend, which we were used to whenever we covered controversial topics. Weekend episodes were two hours long instead of one, and they’d been dubbed “Philly bombings” by some media outlets and many who followed the show regularly. Tomorrow, for instance, they were discussing the next election by hosting a debate with local politicians and pundits. On Sunday, they were dedicating the first hour to corruption within Pennsylvania.

There’d be no mention of the Sons of Munster, and after what Alfie had told me—that corruption was big—maybe there should be.

But I’d given him my word to be a vault, right?

So now, I was compromised. The next time my reporters wanted to get their hands dirty in mobster research, I’d have a knot in my stomach when I gave them the green light.

What if it ever came to light that Alfie, my ex-husband, might be affiliated? What would those rumors sound like? What would the subtle stares look like?

I believed Alfie—I had to—when he told me he’d lie low and remain on the fringes of the organization. I was desperate for that to be true. All while…he was still invited to barbecues at Finnegan O’Shea’s house, and Alfie had received an official welcome to the family. Rumors would circulate eventually.

They might even reach my father.

Those were the thoughts rushing through my head when I drove a ball straight into the pond between holes fourteen and fifteen.

I cursed and gave up on the spot. No mulligan, no attempt to catch up. I played like shit for the rest of the round until I got a random birdie on the last hole. But it was an easy one. If you hit the center edge of the green, the ball just rolled right into the cup.

After returning my clubs to my car—and making sure my parents weren’t here—I made my way into the clubhouse for a dose of AC and a late lunch. A very late lunch.

Alfie might call it an early-bird dinner as an age joke, but fuck him.

I welcomed the cool air, took off my cap, and walked past the table with all of today’s newspapers.

“How did it go today, Scott?”

“Ask my ball currently resting in the duck pond next to fourteen,” I grumbled.

Steve laughed merrily and disappeared into the cigar lounge.

I went into the restaurant and ordered a today’s special before grabbing a table by the windows overlooking the lake and part of the course. Friday afternoon. I had hours and hours to kill. Family to avoid, work to postpone, and an Irish pub to not think about.

The restaurant was fairly empty, with only four other parties eating and drinking. Mostly older men, past their retirement age. Carey and Ridge on the other side of the dining area were friends with my father. They were probably here every day.

I rubbed the back of my neck gingerly.

“Did you forget sunscreen again, papi? Next time, pop the collar on your polo and pretend you’re one of those preppy rich kids.”

I eyed my standard Titleist cap on the table and had a memory for that one too. So many memories. Too many.

Alfie used to tease me about my lifestyle, though he’d done it in a funny, nonjudgmental way. He could eye me up and down while I was hauling my clubs out of the garage, and he’d say something like, “If it ain’t the Fortune 500 starter pack!”

The following day, he could come home with a gift. Nice golf balls, a new cap, or a shirt.

He’d never once tried to change me. When he’d bought Christmas presents and anniversary gifts, he’d done so with my interests in mind. Never what he might want me to have.

He did the same with our children. He was very protective of each one’s personality and identity.

At the same time as he’d struggled with his own identity, mainly for my sake.

He’d never cared what others thought about him before, so why?—

You know the answer, you goddamn moron. He loved you more than anything. It was uncharted territory for both of you.

“Here we go, sir. One beer and one ice water. Your food will be right out.”

I swallowed and nodded once. “Thank you, Chrissy.”

I took a swig of my beer and—fuck, now what? Someone was calling me, and it better not be my mother again. She’d called twice this morning. I’d let it go to voice mail.

As I pulled out my phone, relief struck as quickly as it went away. Alfie’s name flashed on the display, and I answered the call and hoped the children wanted to come home again.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No…?” he chuckled. “I’m trying this new thing where I’m nice and call with an update instead of text you a brief summary.”

Oh.

I felt my shoulders slump, and I watched condensation form on my beer glass. “That’s…kind of you. I take it drop-off went well.”

“Aye, Mom’s got the whole evening planned out for them,” Alfie replied. It sounded like he was in the car. “She’s still giving me the cold shoulder, though. She’s convinced I’ve made a deal with the devil.”

I huffed. “She’s not wrong.”

It hit me that I probably shouldn’t say anything else on the matter. Because what if someone was listening? My God. I had to worry about that now?

“Anyway.” Alfie cleared his throat. “It was pointed out to me that family’s invited tonight. And I know we’re not technically family as exes, but, uh… You know. Might, uh…make it easier for you if you meet some of them?”

Wait, what? Some of them, as in…the O’Sheas?

“You’re inviting me to the pub night?” I questioned.

“Yeah. It was just an idea. You don’t gotta come—but Emilia will be there. Kellan and his husband. Everyone.”

Everyone.

A low, rushing sound invaded my ears, and I didn’t know what to think or say. I wanted to go; I didn’t want to be stuck on the outside of his life and spend all my time trying to get a glimpse of what was going on inside. I also wanted to say absolutely not; I was not going to have a beer or two with the fucking mafia.

I’d kind of met Kellan once before, though I wasn’t sure he remembered it. He’d been on the phone the whole time. Alfie had forgotten his wallet at home, so we’d met up before I’d hurried to a meeting. The entire exchange had lasted maybe a minute, but it’d made me wonder why Alfie had never invited Kellan and his husband over for dinner. The only friends Alfie had shown interest in me getting to know were his cousins.

“What time?” I heard myself ask. “Perhaps I can make sure you don’t let Colby get drunk.”

He laughed, and I smiled at the sound.

It was such a kick in the head to constantly be dragged in two opposite directions. When he made me smile, it hurt because I missed the days those smiles could make everything better. When he pissed me off, I felt a sense of relief because I had to work less hard to resist him in that very moment.

“The doors open at nine,” he said. “It’s a private event, so I’ll put your name on the list if you wanna come.”

“Does that make me a VIP?”

“More like UP for unknown person, because security will recognize everybody else.”

“Thanks for making me feel special,” I replied.

He chuckled. “Do you need an ego boost, papi? Just say the word.”

Papi.

My smile suddenly weighed a ton and fell from my face. It was a punch in the gut to hear him call me that after so long.

“My bad,” he said. “I didn’t mean?—”

“It’s fine. I, uh…” I caught movement next to me, and I leaned back to see the server arriving with my food. “Some memories are still too fresh, I suppose.”

What I wanted to say was wounds. Some wounds were still too fresh.

Alfie mumbled something I didn’t catch as I nodded and smiled politely in thanks, and Chrissy walked off again.

“Add my name to the list,” I said, unwrapping my utensils. The steak they served here was one of the best in the area. I always ordered it with their red wine reduction and roasted vegetables. “I’m far too curious to resist.”

“I thought it was to keep track of Colby,” he teased.

I chuckled. “That too. I will do my utmost to steer him in another direction. Away from pubs and…such.”

It made me wonder if Colby had talked to Alfie about my offer yet.

“He’ll be plenty happy with the other kids tonight,” he laughed. “From what I hear, the guys under eighteen work one-hour shifts to make sure everything’s running smoothly, and then they eat and shoot the shit in the kitchen. He’ll be fine.”

Even so, I actually wanted to check in on the boy.

“Is there a dress code?” I wondered.

“Not one that you need to worry about,” he said. “You always look sharp. Just…pick a shirt you won’t miss if someone spills on it.”

That sounded wild. I hadn’t been to one of those parties since college.

“Where are you, by the way?” he asked.

“At the club. About to eat.” I trapped my phone between my shoulder and cheek so I could cut my steak. Go figure, I’d left my AirPods in the car.

“Don’t get that sauce on your shirt,” he told me with a smile in his voice.

I couldn’t help but smile as well. He had memories too.

“It happened twice,” I pointed out.

“And then it’s three and four,” he retorted. “Listen. I gotta go. I’m picking up a phone and laptop for Colby. But I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” I confirmed.

“Aight. Later, West.”

“Bye, Alfie.” I ended the call and stared at my phone.

Tonight, I was seeing mobsters and my ex-husband.

What the fuck was happening to me?