Soft on Rebellion

Part 7

Sorry for the delay - health issues. Getting through!

Idly, Tommy wondered whether smoking five cigarettes at once would kill him any faster. It was a thought that crossed his mind often when he went over the mistakes Arthur made with the accounts. Along with which gun he'd rather use to blow his brains out with.

If he hadn't been there with him, Tommy would have wondered if Arthur went to school at all.

"Fuck's sake, man," he muttered, striking out Arthur's laughable sum and writing the corrected version below. That meant everything from the 5th was knocked out of line and -

"Whiskey?"

Grace's light voice cut through his frustration at just the right moment. A second later and he'd have ripped the damn ledger up.

"You're an angel," he said, taking the glass and downing it in one.

She raised an eyebrow, then brought the bottle out from behind her back.

"Good job I brought the whole thing then," she smiled.

He gave a half-nod, holding out the glass. She filled it up and rested against the desk, casting her eye over what he was working on. Not lingering too long. But he could tell she was interested.

"Into numbers, are we?"

"Top of my class. Always."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," Tommy smiled into his drink. "Not one bit."

Grace's smile turned hesitant, "What do you mean by that?"

He shrugged and placed the glass down.

"Nothing."

She hovered and Tommy found that he didn't mind. Her presence was... bearable. He wasn't expecting that.

He lifted his head briefly as a bang sounded from outside The Garrison doors.

"There's some kids playing rough outside. They kicked a ball at the window earlier, nearly shattered it all over Harry," she said.

"Ah well, kids will be kids," Tommy said and set to the next line of wrong figures.

"Any kids in your family?"

"Finn," he answered. "My youngest brother. And then there's my daughter."

He saw her stand up straighter out the corner of his eye.

"You have a daughter?"

"Mm. Though you wouldn't think to look at her. You've probably seen her in here. She's got a look like she'll kill you if you dare come near her, probably drinking Scotch whiskey."

Grace shook her head.

"The only woman I've ever seen you with is your sister."

"She doesn't look a lot like Ada. Or me for that matter. She's her own breed, is my daughter. Still, she's a good asset to the business."

"Asset?"

"And I suppose she keeps good company."

"Her mother must be proud of her."

Tommy didn't react to the very obvious digging Grace was trying to do. He turned the page.

"Her mother isn't in the picture. Just me and her. And the rest of our family, of course."

"Of course," Grace said and smiled at the floor, tucking a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. Tommy watched the action, wondering if her hair would feel as soft as it looked.