I wake up with a brick in my stomach. The dreams I keep having about the club are not comforting.
Shaking off the feeling of dread, I get busy curling my long blonde hair and putting on neutral makeup. I need to look my best if I’m going to charm any fresh information out of the biker boys.
I combine black skinny jeans with a white bodysuit and a new black leather jacket. Together with my biker boots, I think I’ve finally achieved the perfect look for the job.
I take some coffee with me in a to-go cup and eat a banana. That’s all I can stomach at the moment.
I don’t know why I feel more nervous than usual. Maybe it’s because of the conversation at work yesterday. Jack is clearly getting impatient with how slowly the case is coming along.
I have an early shift today with Morgan. Normally, I work with Chef, but he has been a bit absent lately. The task of prepping the meals has fallen mainly on me, but I don’t mind.
Working in the kitchen gives me the perfect opportunity to talk to the men and women of the club and get to know them better.
I get my stuff and drive toward the clubhouse, which is somewhere on the outskirts of Ranchdale.
The club’s front door is ajar, and I push it open, greeting the prospect who sits in a foldup chair at the entrance doing guard duty.
The door opens directly into a huge living area. On one side are small dining tables and booths, plus a number of armchairs. On the other side is a large bar. Pool tables and several dartboards provide the finishing touches to the decor. The walls are a dark navy color, and the brown wooden floorboards have seen better days.
All eyes shoot in my direction.
About six men are sitting at the bar with beers…at eight o’clock in the morning. In the booths are two more men, each with a Devil’s girl on his lap.
I don’t know these two girls’ names. Only a couple of the Devil’s girls ever bother to talk to me. I guess they don’t know what to make of me. I’m female, but I’m not one of them. I think it’s the first time the club has ever paid an outsider to cook for them.
We created a fake identity for me that included a stint working for an MC in Arizona called the Desert Vipers. The president of the Vipers apparently owed Jack a favor, so he was persuaded to provide me with a reference.
Motorcycle clubs are very closed off and suspicious. The Devils would never have taken me on without that fake reference.
Somehow, Jack knew that the member who does most of the cooking for the Devils was taking a lot of time off. And somehow, he pulled some strings and got me an interview.
It’s taken months for them to accept me, and even now the men can’t help staring when I show up.
“Oy! Eyes somewhere else, you idiots. She’s not that new anymore, plus she’s off limits,” a woman shouts as she walks through a swinging door. All eyes immediately go elsewhere.
I shake my head at Morgan and laugh. She gives me a hug and grins back at me happily. As the president’s wife, she has a lot of power in the club, and I’m glad she seems to be on my side.
She is tall—nearly six foot—with beautiful, curly brown hair and a habitual smile on her face. As far as I’m concerned, she is the heart of this club. Everyone seems to like and respect her—and many, I suspect, are afraid of getting on her bad side.
“Let me know if you feel uncomfortable,” she says. “Nobody will try anything with you. Hammer has made it clear that you’re not like the Devil’s girls. But they do know what a beautiful woman looks like, and every time you walk in, those beady eyes dart to you.”
She winks, and I feel myself blush.
“Thanks, but I think it’s mostly because I’m still kind of new,” I say as we walk to the kitchen together.
She shakes her head, making her curls bounce in all directions. “The guys don’t like change, and it takes a while for them to get used to new faces,” she says as she pushes open the door to the kitchen.
The kitchen is a wet dream. Everything is shiny and new, and the pans are fantastic. Morgan told me in my first week that she had to win Hammer over with plenty of sweet smiles before she was allowed to renovate it.
I’m pretty sure she did more than just bat her eyelashes to convince the man. But whatever it took, the result is fantastic.
“Today, breakfast is at nine,” Morgan tells me. “They’re in church now and will probably come out hungry. Let’s have lunch a bit later than usual—around one? And dinner around six thirty.”
I nod, putting on an apron. Then I start on the eggs—both scrambled and fried—while Morgan makes the bacon. According to her, bacon is the only thing she is really good at. She often burns food, but Hammer likes his bacon extra crispy.
We have a lot of fun, and the cooking goes well, thankfully. I’m pretty good at baking, but catering on a large scale is definitely a challenge.
When the eggs are ready, I prepare a fruit bowl. The men were quite skeptical at first about the fruit I put out every morning. Chef isn’t really into fresh produce, so this was new to them. Even so, at the end of breakfast the fruit bowl is always empty—and I’m happy to know they’re getting some vitamins in their system, considering the junk they sometimes eat and drink.
I stop my thoughts right there and remind myself that this is all play-acting. I’m not really a cook. I’m a cop. I’m not here to improve the health of these MC delinquents. I’m here to find out what illegal shit they’re up to.
I get busy filling the buffet dishes with the eggs and the bacon. Then I put out bread rolls fresh from the oven, together with some cold cuts and cheese.
As if they smelled the food, the men start pouring out of a large door at the back of the living area. Hammer has his eyes on Morgan as he walks over. He puts an arm around her waist and kisses her cheek.
“Hey, babe, everything all right?” he asks with a smile.
“Ashley is amazing, so of course everything’s all right,” she says with a wink at me.
“Good to hear things are going well, Ashley. Chef and Morgan are very enthusiastic about you,” Hammer says, and I bow my head.
“I love it here, so thank you,” I say, playing the grateful employee, and Hammer nods in satisfaction.
“Where is Chef today?” I ask, looking around.
“Chef…is absent,” Hammer says vaguely.
“I actually wanted to go through the menu, but I keep missing him,” I say with a sigh.
Hammer shrugs. “You’ve proven yourself to be highly capable. I suggest you do it without consulting him this time. Chef will just have to deal with it if it’s not the way he wants it.”
He sounds a bit gruff, and I nod and walk toward the buffet.
“No sausages today, Ashley?” West asks as he walks by with a plate full of food, and I shake my head.
“Big breakfasts are only for weekends and special days, West. Sorry,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“Every day is the perfect day to eat sausages,” he mumbles as he walks to a table, and I burst out laughing.
Seeing that the coffee is almost finished, I head to the kitchen to fill the pot. As I’m refilling it and getting some warm rolls out of the oven, the door opens—and Navy walks in.
“My brother is grumbling at the buffet,” he says.
“Does he ever do anything else?” I ask, and Navy chuckles.
“The coffee is finished, and he had a bad night,” he says, and I sigh and walk over to the coffee pot.
“Here, you take it to him,” I say, and he gives me a meaningful look.
“Afraid of the big, bad wolf?” he asks teasingly, and I shrug.
“There are some people I like to stay away from, and your giant of a brother is one of them,” I say.
“He’s really not that bad,” he says, laughing, and my eyebrows shoot to my hairline.
Navy shakes his head, still laughing. “He’s a softy once you get to know him. Thanks for the coffee. I’m going to give the beast its oil.” He winks and walks out of the kitchen.
I like Navy. The short conversations we’ve had have been pleasant. He seems the complete opposite of his intimidating brute of a brother—much more approachable.
But he also doesn’t seem to know much about the club’s inner workings.
Ugh. I really don’t want to go near VP Steel, but I guess at some point I have to try. Jack’s stressed, impatient face flashes in my mind.
I take the sandwiches to the buffet and catch sight of Navy giving his brother a cup of coffee. Steel smiles.
Wait…
Shit! Steel caught me looking at them. He frowns, and I look away quickly, my heart thumping.
