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“That’s a loaded question,” Manny scoffs. “But I think we’ve got it under control here, right Shanice?”
“You got it honey. Go look pretty out front, darlin’.”
I shrug off my cut and pull on an apron. A few seconds later Luna — Tag, the club’s Sergeant at Arms ol’ lady — comes barreling through the door.
“Where’s the fire, honey?” Manny laughs.
“Oh my God, I’m so late,” Luna says, dumping her purse on the kitchen island.
“Calm down, we don’t open the doors for another half hour,” I say. “I’m gonna go and check up on things out front. Who are the servers tonight?”
“Me,” Luna chimes, grabbing an apron. “You guys, that Gumbo smells amazing.”
“You and?”
“Me!” Luna says again. “Oh, and Stella said she’d try and get here soon.”
Stella is Harlem, the club's Enforcer’s daughter. My goddaughter. She’s eighteen and wants to join the MC, but needless to say Harlem isn’t keen on the idea, so for now she works at NOLA Sweet Treats, a bakery run by her dad’s ol’ lady, Indigo.
I frown. “What about Lori and Toby?” They both oversee things, as well as each other.
“They both got sick.” Shanice shrugs.
Oh, so that’s the little detail Dan forgot to tell me.
“Great, so we’ve got our work cut out for us tonight.” I should’ve dragged Riot with me.
Luna sticks her head under the serving window. “Priest, give me a hand with the plates, will you?”
“She’s already orderin’ you around,” Manny chuckles.
I flip him the bird before grabbing a stack of plates and head out to the serving area.
Dan did the place up real nice. It was an old derelict building that was donated to the church by the state. And with the right people in the know, it was fixed up and made into a soup kitchen for the needy. It took a lot of work, and money that the Parish paid for. All new floors, a brand new kitchen, plus lighting and tables and chairs donated by the general public. People pay what they can afford if they can, and those that can’t offer to help out washing up or helping clean afterward.
“Why are you runnin’ around like a crazy person?” I ask her, as we start setting the plates and cutlery at the serving table. We have multiple warmers for the food to be kept warm, plus bread and salad which they can help themselves.
All the food is donated, and whatever is left we freeze and pass onto the Salvation Army or one of the many shelters around the city. Nothing goes to waste.
“I had to run over to Faux Paws after work, then Tag called and well…” She clears her throat and I regret asking the question immediately. “Let’s just say he’s a man that won’t be told when a quickie runs into overtime.” I guess I asked for it.
Faux Paws is the animal rescue that Luna volunteers at for homeless dogs and cats. She’s a real softie when it comes to our four-legged friends.
“Thanks for that visual.”
“What about you, Priest? I’ve barely seen you around the clubhouse lately.”
“Been busy.”
“I meant with any chicks.”
“Of course you did. I’m doin’ just fine, thank you for askin’.” I’m not letting any of the club sisters know about my recent celibacy. It’s bad enough that Riot and Rock, another member who likely told his twin brother Jett, the Treasurer, all about my deal with God. It’s only temporary. And they should stop being so fucking observant.
She puts her arm around me. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
I snort a laugh. “Uh, thanks.”
“I’m just saying. You always make sure we’re all in a zen place, but does anyone look after you? Is anyone making sure you’re in a good place?” She’s sweet, of course, with a heart of gold. Which is why our grumpy Sergeant at Arms finally admitted his feelings recently after years of back and forth. She’s a good woman.
