CHAPTER 5
LARA
I’m completely at a loss for words because of the sight in front of me. I was just called out from the kitchen by one of my new employees, since I can afford it now and need the help. I don’t need to be told why I was summoned; I can see why.
There’s a huge bouquet of flowers, gorgeous flowers, on my counter. It’s filled with white roses, tulips, and blue hyacinths. I don’t know why it makes my heart beat harder in my chest, but it does. There’s a smaller bouquet too, one filled with perfect irises.
They’re beautiful.
And I have a sinking suspicion I know exactly who sent them. It’s been three days since the disaster that was the SOMC BBQ. I’ve heard the whispers around town growing louder in relation to me and Vanessa. I haven’t paid it any mind because I don’t have a damn thing to apologize for.
I told the truth.
It needed to be said.
That doesn’t mean I like being fodder for the town’s rumor mill. I didn’t realize there were friends of the club and others at the BBQ, not just brothers and their women. If I had, I might not have spoken up.
It’s too late now to regret it.
All of my business is out there.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath while tamping down the need to run away screaming from this little display. It’s also equally tempting to set both bouquets on fire. They wouldn’t burn for long, but I bet it would be pretty.
My movements are tentative as I grab the note tucked amongst the blossoms in the larger arrangement.
It’s not enough, but this is just the start. I wanted you to have something that makes you smile today.
I’m sorry I was such an asshole.
Would giving you five free slaps help?
J
I hate myself a little when one side of my mouth tips up while reading his little note. I don’t know what the J stands for, but I know who sent these.
Even though I am considering reading the note with Vanessa’s flowers, I don’t. Those aren’t for me and while he might be an idiot, Playboy isn’t going to be cruel to a child.
Just as I’m about to rip the larger bouquet off the counter, march them to the front door, and throw them out into the street, Opal steps into Bunz Out. When she sees the look on my face, she frowns slightly. It disappears the moment she looks at the flowers.
“Oh,” she exclaims, “I see the apology gifts have started.”
I narrow my eyes at the woman who is far too cheery. Thankfully, I don’t see people pressing their faces to my windows to see the show. It might just be a matter of time though.
Opal leans on the counter slightly and points toward the flowers. “You know,” her tone is light, “since he’s a tattoo artist, he knows the meaning of different flowers. I’m sure he chose these on purpose.”
“I don’t care,” I grit out through my teeth. I’m beyond annoyed that I have to even deal with this foolishness. “I said my peace and I am more than willing to let it drop there while leaving him completely out of my life. And her, but that goes without saying,” I add.
Opal doesn’t pay me any mind and pull out her phone and taps away at the screen.
Her eyes light up with whatever she’s found.
“I knew it,” she exclaims and does a little shoulder shimmy while flapping her hand in my direction.
“Listen. White roses mean sincerity, respect, and a fresh start. Tulips mean forgiveness and renewal. Blue Hyacinths mean peace and sincere regret.” Her face softens before she looks up at me.
“Irises mean hope.” She pauses and pouts slightly. “Isn’t that sweet?”
“Adorable,” I deadpan.
She scrunches her face up at me like I’m the one being ridiculous. I’m not. He was a complete dick to me; I should not be moved by flowers.
“I don’t want them,” I try a different approach.
“They’re gorgeous,” she counters.
Her hands frame one of the large hyacinth blooms like she’s showcasing it on a game show. She wiggles her eyebrows and makes a sound of encouragement in the back of her throat.
I only cross my arms across my chest and scowl.
“I’m just saying,” she holds up her hands, “it would be a shame to waste these beautiful flowers and not enjoy them just because of the person who sent them. They’ll only last so long anyway, but they’re nice to look at right now.”
She’s not fucking wrong. But I’m not about to say that out loud. Hell no, then she’d never let me hear the end of it.
I don’t want them and I can feel myself digging my heels in about it.
That doesn’t mean I stop looking at them though. Because they are stunning.
“Anyway,” I shoot her a look for her to play along, “what brings you in here today?”
“I can’t just stop in for a little chat?
” She asks the question so innocently and, for a moment, I’m unsure whether she has ulterior motives or not.
I keep quiet. After a long moment, she breaks and lets out a sound filled with exasperation while throwing her hands up.
“Fine, you caught me. I did come in for a snack, but it’s only a bonus. I come bearing gossip.”
With narrowed eyes, I tell her, “I’m not interested in gossip.”
Opal purses her lips slightly. “Maybe it’s really more like news? It’s not second hand and it’s the God’s honest truth.” She holds one hand to her heart and the other up like she’s swearing an oath.
She looks ridiculous.
“I’m not sure I’m interested in your news either,” I tell her while eyeing her warily.
“Come on,” she whines, “stop being a stick in the mud. It’s the good stuff,” she coaxes me like she’s a back-alley dealer or some shit.
I won’t be admitting that she has my interest piqued, but she definitely does.
When I don’t say anything, her eyes fucking sparkle with excitement. She claps her hands together and twirls around once like she can’t contain it.
“First off,” she holds her hands up and leans closer while lowering her voice, “I want to let you know just how much I admire you.” I feel my cheeks heat and my first instinct is to deflect whatever she’s about to say. “I can’t imagine being that young and deciding to take on a newborn.”
“The moment I held her, I didn’t really have a choice,” I admit, my gaze going distant with the memory.
“She needed someone she could rely on, that was never going to be the girl who gave birth to her. It could have been my parents, but they already raised two kids.” I shake my head.
“It wasn’t their responsibility and they didn’t trust themselves after Lola. ”
Opals eyes go soft and I almost want to recoil from it. “It wasn’t your responsibility either,” her words are a gentle reminder of something I already know.
“Maybe,” I admit, “but it didn’t feel that way when I was holding her.”
“Right,” she nods, her voice firm, “I can’t talk about that anymore or else I might cry and it is not a good look for me. I get splotchy when I cry.”
“I don’t want to be the reason you get splotchy.” I grimace slightly, totally able to sympathize with her.
“I don’t cry often, but when I do, it’s not pretty.
” She claps her hands again and leans over the counter after looking around furtively.
She’s picked a good time to stop in; there’s a little lull happening right now.
It’ll pick up again when school lets out soon. “On to the news,” she shouts happily.
When I motion for her to keep her voice down, she looks around again and shoots me a look like she’s asking who we’re disturbing at the moment. No one, but still.
Decorum. Or something.
“Fine,” she whines. “After you left the BBQ, Rumble warned Playboy, rightfully so, that if he ever treated another woman the way he’s been treating you that he’ll be in the ICU. Then Playboy basically scurried away like a dog who knows he’s done wrong.”
“Rumble’s nice,” I muse. “He wanted to talk about sourdough. Did you know he has a starter?” My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “Oh no, was I not supposed to talk about the sourdough? Is that like not good for a biker’s rep or something and shouldn’t be talked about openly?”
“The man is obsessed and even though he might blush and act all embarrassed, he talks about his starter a lot. Last Christmas he gifted everyone a starter kit,” she informs me with a lovingly exasperated look on her face.
“I gave it right back to him and told him to start it for me and keep it safe because he knows I’m not allowed near the kitchen.
He just smiled and nodded like I gave him the best thing in the world for Christmas, and it was his gift to me,” she gasps.
“You know,” I tilt my head to the side, “that doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“Anyway, if you want to talk about yeast and whatnot, I’m not the girl for it, but stop in and see Rumble anytime.
” She makes a shooing motion with her hand.
“Since the BBQ, Lola has been trying to spin the narrative, that you were always jealous and nothing you said was true, and what have you. No one is paying her any mind.”
I frown slightly. I’m not saying I thought she’d be kicked out, not necessarily, seeing as I’m not anyone to the club, but I’m a little disappointed. What was I really expecting?
“If she was smart, she’d put her head down and keep her mouth shut. If she keeps causing drama and making a fuss, she’s going to be upset when they vote and she’s out.” Opal shoots me a look and drawls, “I already know she’s not going to do the smart thing.”
“Odds are good that you’re right,” I agree. Then I let out a wary sound between acceptance and annoyance. “I really don’t care.”
Maybe I don’t want to care? I’m not even sure anymore. I just know there were too many times in my life when everything was wrapped up in Lola. I don’t want to live like that again. I can’t.
I fucking won’t.
Opal’s mouth tightens slightly but then I watch her let it go. I really don’t need to know the innerworkings of the club and what happens to her now. She told a few lies to a brother and the worst that happened was he said some bullshit to me. It’s not like I’m someone who matters to the club.