NANCY SINATRA - THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WALKIN’
NANCY SINATRA - THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WALKIN’
“You are not talking about the primaries, Rachel,” Parker warned me. “You are not!”
“I was talking about Rain’s graduation ceremony,” I lied.
“Bullshit. No talk about the primaries! Or about the fundraiser next month either.” Her eyes flashed with temper. “I won’t allow it. No work. Just play.”
“You mean you won’t allow me to talk about things that interest me at the baby shower you knew would bore me senseless? The baby shower I knew you were organizing even though you repeatedly lied to me about organizing it?”
She squinted at me. “Do you or do you not like afternoon tea?”
“That isn’t the point. I love afternoon tea, but you still lied to me.” I huffed. “You all did. Traitors.”
Utterly unapologetic, most of the Posse beamed smiles at me. Giulia, who was nursing baby Sam, outright grinned at me from across the way.
Honestly, I’d seen more of her than I ever wanted to see of another woman thanks to Nyx taking his sweet ass time in arriving at the labor room.
I was just grateful I didn’t need to be there for the whole thing. The miracle of life might be grand for a lot of women—I was okay with sitting it out.
“Suck it up, buttercup,” Giulia chirped. “And have some fun.”
“I’d have more fun if I could have one of those glasses of champagne,” I said wistfully to Lily and Amara who, interestingly enough, were the only ones in the room who’d listen to me talk politics.
José ‘Joseph’ Ferrero was on the ballot after Rex had twisted his arm. I didn’t need to know how literal that twisting had been.
Ferrero hadn’t shown up to the press ops with a cast so I figured Rex hadn’t been violent.
“Not long now,” Lily soothed.
Giulia hissed under her breath. “Stop biting, kid. They’re not detachable.”
“What do you expect when you name a baby after a fallen angel?” Tiff demanded.
“Samael’s a beautiful name,” Giulia argued, staring down at her kid who was wearing a onesie that declared to the world ‘Mommy’s Little Demon.’
“He’s channeling rage today,” Lily teased as she moved away from me and rubbed the tufted dark hair on top of Sam’s head.
Because I had no interest in Sam, and Giulia didn’t hate me for it, I stayed away from the pooping machine and dug into a small parfait that, I couldn’t deny, tasted damn good as I texted Rex:
Rachel: You suck.
Rex: Why?
Rachel: What was all this, ‘I’ll be there through it all, baby girl’?
Rex: I will be.
Rachel: Then why am I the one dealing with this baby shower on my own?
Rex: I meant the labor room. Doctor’s appointments. Shit like that. Not being in an enclosed space with the Posse for an indeterminate length of time.
Rachel: Pfft.
Rex: Enjoy? :P
Rachel: I don’t think so.
Huffing under my breath, I sought out Wynter and found that she’d tucked herself away in a corner with a stack of cakes, earbuds in and her phone tipped in a way that told me she was streaming something. Knowing she was comfortable helped me relax.
I’d already heard her playing the Bosendorfer Imperial baby grand Lily owned and determined that was the piano Rex and I would be buying her for our place too.
I couldn’t wait to hear her play at home.
Watching the others coo over Sam, I said to Amara, who wasn’t overly fond of kids either, “Did you get Azael and Baal checked over at the vet?”
Giulia and Nyx had taken the chihuahua and Newfoundlander in and had also graced them with the names of fallen angels.
I thought Azael’s was the most fitting—one of the most evil of fallen angels, it fit the current Azael’s nature.
Baal was less ‘Duke of Hell,’ but he definitely was a lord in stature.
“Tak,” Amara told me, as she’d been the one to take them as a favor to the new mom. “Both are well, but Azael has arthritis.”
“Is that why she’s such a bitch?”
Amara grinned. “I think she is born bad bitch.”
I snorted at her. “Would you do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Could you get me some more cake?”
“Tak.” When she returned with a massive slice of strawberry shortcake, she made me love her even more by asking, “Think you Oliver Farrow will elected Sheriff?”
“I don’t see why not. The other candidate is weak, and Farrow has Ferrero’s backing.”
“Ferrero’s name is hard to say.”
I crinkled my nose. “Sorry. Joseph is easier for you?”
“I’ll call him Iosef.”
“Fine. The primaries look set to be a landslide win though. I told Rex Joseph was popular enough for his backing to count. I’m just glad he listened.”
“Jesus, woman, are you still talking about work?”
“What do you want me to do, Parker?” I grumbled, glowering at her from over my shoulder. She’d swooped in like a sneak to catch me unawares. “Talk about babies?”
“Well, it’s a baby shower. You’re supposed to.”
“Glass ceilings were meant to be broken, darling,” I drawled which made the others laugh.
We were sitting in Lily’s pink room, the chairs clustered together around several trolleys housing teapots for Giulia and me, then champagne and coffee for everyone else.
There were at least twenty sets of stacked plates that were eponymous with afternoon teas.
Each was loaded down with finger sandwiches, cakes, pastries, cookies, even small savory Danishes.
I wasn’t going to lie about the food being awesome, but I didn’t have a clue about babies and Parker knew that. So did the others at this point because I’d thought the diaper cake was made of actual cake and I’d gone to cut it.
Twenty minutes later, one of Lily’s housekeepers knocked on the door, and Lily got to her feet and spoke with her.
“Oh, good! She came! Invite her in.”
“Who did?” I queried.
When Rory appeared in the doorway, I surged forward and, grinning all the while, rushed over to hug her.
She squeezed me back and said in my ear, “This totally isn’t our scene.”
Relieved that I wasn’t alone in feeling like a fish out of water, I hugged her tighter. “Thank you for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Then, with an expression of utter loathing, she grimaced and declared, “Go on, you can ask me.”
My lips twitched at her melodrama. “Ask you what?”
“Hunter informed me last night that he’s going to be the baby’s godfather.” Her nose crinkled as she wafted a hand at my stomach.
Because, yes, I’d forgotten where the baby was. Not.
“So?”
“So we both know you’re going to ask me to be the godmother. Which makes no sense as you’re not religious but go on, ask me.”
“Are you in a good mood?”
“Good enough that I’ll say yes to things I don’t particularly want to do.”
Snickering, I said, “I’m surprised you spoke with Hunter.”
She shrugged. “I do from time to time.”
Rory made it sound like such a hardship.
I shook my head at her.
Dead To Me had been quiet since our last text chat, and I wasn’t about to complain, but I hadn’t spoken to Hunter since I’d gotten the information over to her. I was glad to know he was still safe.
“You know you like him,” I grumbled.
“I don’t have time to like anyone,” Rory muttered, peering around the room. “They don’t look like Old Ladies.”
“What did you expect them to look like? Hookers?” I retorted.
“No,” she said with a surprised laugh. “I just didn’t expect them to have a twenty-million-dollar house and to have a— What the hell kind of dog is that anyway? A horse?”
“A Newfoundlander.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t expect for there to be a Newfoundlander guarding a stroller all while everyone’s eating cake and drinking tea.”
“Only Giulia and I are drinking tea. Everyone else has champagne and coffee.”
Her eyes flared wide with relief. “There’s champagne? Give it to me! I need some!”
Laughing at her dramatics, and so fucking grateful she’d come—I wouldn’t have expected her to, which made it all the sweeter that she had—I went to get her a flute of champagne. She looked more in need of it than I did.
Her change of career had come with consequences, and she wore those consequences in the bruised shadows that had made an appearance below her eyes.
On the brink of introducing Rory to everyone, I heard a bit out, “She’s carrying my brother’s kid. I think I’m invited.”
The happy atmosphere immediately froze.
“Tell me that wasn’t Kendra,” Giulia growled.
“Is her,” Amara snapped.
“Who’s Kendra?” Rory asked me under her breath. “Rex has a sister? Or is the daddy not who I thought?”
“She’s his half-sister.” I rubbed a brow because this was definitely unanticipated. “I thought she’d left West Orange,” I said to no one in particular.
“She did. Keira said she drifted over to Ohio until they turfed her out down there,” Tiffany replied.
“Let me in, you fucking bitch! I’m the baby’s aunt!”
“Over my dead body,” Giulia lashed out, bolting upright, which made Sam start bawling.
“Giulia, calm down,” I retorted. “I’ll deal with this.”
“I will. You pregnant,” Amara inserted. “Should not get stressed. Is my pleasure to hurt her.”
“Too late, babe, I’m already stressed,” I said with a snort. “Seriously, leave this with me.”
I headed over to the door, and just as I opened it, something hit the wall beside my head.
A stiletto heel?
I stared down at it in bewilderment before I peered at the hallway, finding Kendra hopping around on one shoe as she tried to take that off as well.
“Using heels as a weapon has to be a new low for you, Kendra,” I said coolly.
The housekeeper excused, “I’m so sorry. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“No, that seems to be your ‘go to’ default, Kendra, doesn’t it?”
I surged forward on a pique of temper, faster than she expected, because my hand tightened around her arm and I was hauling her outside before she knew what I was doing.
She shrieked and almost went flying but I kept her upright, because if she was going to be tipped on her ass, then it wasn’t going to be by accident.
“What are you talking about, Rachel?” Kendra sniped, dragging her arm out of my hold as she snatched her shoe from my grip. “I have every right to be here. That’s my niece or nephew you’re carrying.”
“You have no right to be here,” I retorted. “We are not and never have been friends, and this isn’t about the baby, it’s about me. Trust me, if it was about the baby, I wouldn’t be attending either.” God, talk about boring. “You are not welcome, Kendra.”
“That’s being made clear to me,” she sneered. “I don’t have to listen to you. You might be the big, almighty First Lady but I ain’t in the MC anymore.”
“Firstly, why would you even come here with that attitude? Secondly, you say that like that improves your chances of safety if you mess us around. If anything, it’s the opposite, and that you haven’t realized that yet tells me how dumb you are.
” I got in her face. “On Giulia’s behalf, I’ll tell you that you’re not welcome here.
On Storm’s, I’ll tell you that the only place where you are welcome is hell. ”
Her cheeks pinched. “I love that man—”
“Love?” I shrieked. “Love? You have to be kidding me. You took advantage of him when he was high. I’ve heard all the sorry details.”
“If that’s what he told you, he’s lying. He loved every minute of it.” She sneered at me. “He came, didn’t he?”
I saw red.
This kid was making it happen more and more often. Tears having given way to temper now, a temper I was less and less inclined to control.
Whatever she saw in my face had her reaching out to smack me first.
In retaliation, I grabbed her hair, that swinging fucking ponytail that drove me crazy because she tossed her head about so much, and I dragged her back by it.
She must have known what I was going to do though, because she scratched her nails down my cheek. I hissed at the sting, felt the tears in my skin, and that only exacerbated my fury.
With her head dragged back, to the point where her balance was shot and she was almost falling over, I spat in her face.
I had no idea where that came from.
But I did it anyway.
“That’s for Storm.” I jerked my knee up and aimed it between her legs.
“That’s for Giulia because she’ll always choose violence.
” Though she cried out, she tried to punch me in the belly, but I grabbed her hand before she could connect and I twisted it to the point of spraining the joint.
“Now, I’m going to tell you, very politely, to get out of town.
I do that because I loved your father, and so, out of respect to him, I won’t tell Rex.
If he knew you tried to punch my stomach, you’d be leaving West Orange feet first. So, heed my warning, Kendra, and don’t make the mistake of coming back. ”
I let her go and watched as she crumpled to the floor.
I knew she had nowhere to go, but I also knew that she was more than capable of getting a job that didn’t involve her lying on her back.
Before I could pity her, she grated out, “Storm wanted me—”
The red of before was nothing to the crimson wave that settled over my features. But before I snapped, she scurried away, finally realizing that she was outmatched.
As she ran off, behind me, I heard cheers.
I twisted around and saw the Posse were watching, clapping and hooting. Parker had wide eyes, so did Rory and Wynter, but the Old Ladies weren’t surprised.
To them, I was this Rachel. The Rachel who waded into fights and who defended her friends.
Because that was what they were now—friends. And family.
Parker and Rory only really knew the lawyer and so, for the most part, did Wynter. But I refused to be ashamed. Downright refused.
I was the Satan’s Sinners’ MC’s First Lady and that was that.