By the time Archie brought my clothes and I was discharged, it was mid-afternoon. He paused when he saw James sitting in a chair, his legs crossed and the copy of Discerning Gentleman on his lap.
“Uh…good afternoon, sir.”
“Rogers.”
Archie cut a glance in my direction, his eyebrows raised. A corner of my mouth curled up, and I gave a slight nod. He grinned broadly, swung one of the suitcases onto the foot of the bed, unsnapped it, and removed a change of clothing: trousers, shirt, Y-fronts, socks
He held the socks up. “You’re only going to need one of these.” He stuffed the other back into my case.
“Shoes?”
“Here you go, Six. Got a trainer right here for you.”
“Yeah, I’ll only be needing the one of those as well. Is it the right one?”
“No, it’s the left—oh, you mean is it the correc
