Page 4 of Stella
“Okay, take a breath,” he says. “What questions?” He passes me a cinnamon roll, fresh from the tray, and I pick at it with my fingers, even though I want to devour the damn thing.
I try to calm myself as best I can. “It’s today,” I sigh. “I plead my case to Cash and Ryder about prospecting, and they decide if I’m worthy enough to join the MC.”
He gives me a pointed look. “You’ve got this, sis, no matter what they say. Sometimes overthinking something can make it ten times worse. What’s on the list? Maybe we can go through some now?”
I start to pace again. “I’ve only got ten minutes, and if I’m late, they’ll hold it against me.”
He moves around to my side of the bench, stops my pacing by gripping my shoulders so I stay put, and says, “You’re wearing a hole in the floor, just breathe, baby doll.”
“I can’t breathe, what if they say no? What if all of this has been for nothing?” I fling my arms out dramatically, or try to, he’s still holding me, and I’m still clutching the cinnamon roll.
“You know what happens when you get in a panic, babe, and this won’t help nothing. All it’s gonna do is send you into a flap, and then you’ll beat yourself up about that, too. I told you, I was in church a few weeks ago when they said yes to giving you a chance.”
He’s right. He knows me so well, but there’s always a chance they could change their minds, no matter what he says. “I get that, but they’ve had time to stew things over, plus Pipes is injured, so it’ll only enhance the idea that this club is too dangerous.”
“You just have to be yourself, and not go off on a tangent.” He cocks his head as he says it. “Be yourself with a little less spice.”
I frown. “A little less spice?”
He sighs. “Don’t pretend you don’t have your dad’s famous temper, because I know firsthand, you do. But that aside, the fact they’re even giving you a shot in church says it all.”
“But all the women are saying they’re setting me up to fail, that they’re gonna make it harder for me because I’m a girl.”
“So what if they are? You’re resilient. You can show them, Stell. And since when have you been afraid of hard work?”
He’s right, I’m deflecting. “I know, I know.” I puff out my cheeks. “I’m overthinking it again, but I’ve been in knots this entire week, and now the day has finally come, it’s like I’ve got stage fright.”
“You’re notunderthinkingit.” He smirks. “And this is Cash. The man who practically raised you. While you’d be best not underestimating him, also remember this and use it; they havea soft spot for you. You’re the first kid of the MC, and you grew up in it. You know this club inside and out. They wouldn’t be entertaining this idea if you couldn’t handle it.”
“You’re right.” A new burst of energy flows through me. “You’re exactly right!”
“Usually am.” He beams. “Now eat up, you don’t wanna be going in there with an empty stomach.”
I stuff half the cinnamon roll into my mouth — I’m only a lady on weekends.
“You’re right.” I chomp away, knowing that the more I overthink it, the worse it’ll be.
“Are you okay?” Manny frowns. “You look like you’re going to have a hysterical reaction.”
“I think I need a paper bag.”
“Are you gonna puke?”
I shake my head.
Manny goes to grab one, because of course he has a brown paper bag in his kitchen, and hurries back to me. He takes anxiety seriously, and I love him for that.
“Breathe in and out,” he coaxes, but I don’t even get a chance to do that.
“Everythin’ okay in here?” Cash’s voice booms through the kitchen behind us.
I jump, yelping because I didn’t even hear him push the door open. “Holy crap, Prez!” I laugh, but it sounds hysterical. Yes, after knowing him since I was a little girl, I’m now calling him Prez.
A crease forms between his eyes as he stares at me, unblinking. “Okay, that’s really fuckin’ weird.”
“Not weird for me,” I chirp. “I mean, that’s what you are, right? My Prez, and I’ll treat you as such, because that’s what you are.” Oh, fuck. I’m going down.
I feel Manny looking at me in my periphery. I can tell by the judgy vibes I’m getting he thinks I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
