Page 28 of Bishop

Angel nodded sympathetically. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Besides baking scores of cookies for tomorrow’s cookout, not much,” I told her.

“You’ve been working nonstop to help us with this party. You deserve a break and a treat.” Taking out her cell phone, she shot off a quick text that was returned in seconds. Smiling, she looked back at me. “Let’s pay for our stuff and get out of here. I have someone I want you to meet.”

“What about all the food?” I asked, confused about where we’d go with a thousand dollars of groceries in our trunk.

“I’ll have Duke take it back to the Clubhouse for us,” Angel explained.

Duke was a Devil’s Rider Prospect. This meant he was trying to get into the MC but hadn’t earned his patch yet. The good-looking biker had driven us to the market, and pretty much followed Angel around wherever she went. I wasn’t sure why that was necessary, but apparently it was.

Angel had told me that since she’d become pregnant, her husband had been extra cautious with her comings and goings. He barely let her visit the bathroom without being watched. I thought that notion was absurd. But what did I know? I wasn’t married to the president of a notorious MC. Either way, my friend didn’t seem bothered by it, so I tried to emulate her lack of concern and ignore our constant bodyguard.

Since I liked hanging out with Angel, I agreed to her mystery treat. When Duke pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall, I looked around at the many stores.

“I told you I wanted you to meet my friend, Amelia,” Angel said gleefully, as we stepped out of the car. “Well, this is her place! It’s a full-service salon called The Baby Doll.”

A bright pink sign on a white backdrop greeted us as we walked into the bustling establishment. It smelled like cucumber and melon as we entered. I could tell by just looking at this place that it was expensive, and my heart sank. I knew I couldn’t afford anything they offered, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of my new friend by admitting as much.

The little bell over the door tinkled and alerted everyone that we’d arrived. A beautiful blonde noticed us then, and I couldn’t help but spot the uncanny resemblance to Matty. She had to be his sister because this woman was practically his clone, albeit a female version of him. Their mother must have been beautiful because these two looked like Swedish cover models showcased in bougie salon magazines.

“You must be Evie!” the gorgeous woman greeted, giving me a great big hug and a tender kiss on my cheek. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

She had the same infectious smile as her brother, and I instinctively returned it. “I am. Angel has told me about you, too.”

Her sparkling blue eyes were done up in flawless Instagram-worthy makeup that only managed to accentuate her natural beauty. “It’s good to finally meet you. Your food was amazing at my brother’s party! I can’t thank you enough for everything you did to make that happen.”

I blushed at her effusive compliments. “Thank you. I just took over this catering company from a friend, and I appreciate the business.”

“I know a little something about that,” Amelia returned, her arms splayed wide. “It isn’t easy starting a business from the ground up. But it’s worth it.”

“This place is amazing,” I told her, looking around at all the busy stations of women getting pricey, high-end services.

Angel shrugged off her coat and hung it on the rack. “I was thinking we could treat Evie here to a mini spa day for all of her hard work. You can just put it on my tab, Amelia,” my friend offered generously.

As beautiful of a gesture as it was, I simply couldn’t, in good conscience, accept such a large gift. Before I could protest though, Angel held up her hands in the international gesture for silence.

“Before you tell me no,” she correctly anticipated, “I’m telling you yes. You deserve this, Evie. As a friend, I want to treat you to something enjoyable. Please let me do this for you. I promise I can afford it. That wasn’t always the case for me, so now I like to give back whenever I can.”

Her sincerity made me swallow back tears. “Okay,” I reluctantly agreed.

Amelia did a little jig in place. “Excellent! Where should we start? Hair? Nails? Massage?”

I giggled. “A massage sounds wonderful right now.” I carried my tension in my shoulders and today was no different.”

“Perfect. Let me introduce you to Allen. He’ll be giving you your massage today.”

Amelia called over Allen and we worked out what service I’d like done. I chose the Swedish option, as it seemed incredibly relaxing. After I’d had the most luxurious hour that money could buy, I was seated at a sleek table where Gabrielle, a sweet girl with a sharp, black bob, worked on my nails.

Gabrielle valiantly tried to shape the stubs at the end of my fingertips into acceptable shapes. “Girl, what have you been doing with your nails?”

“I bite them when I’m stressed,” I returned, stating the obvious.

Gabrielle whistled. “I guess so. You know what the answer to that is, don’t you?” I shook my head and she grinned big. “You need to get a set of gel extensions. You won’t be able to chew on those the way you chew on your regular ones.”

I thought the idea over and decided against it. Not only was it impractical for cooking, but I couldn’t afford the upkeep. “I need to keep my nails short for my job.”

“I get it,” Gabrielle conceded. “Let’s do a gel overlay just to protect the length. It’ll help strengthen the nail plate and let them grow out naturally.”

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