It Was Always You

Ch. 11 Taste of Charming

Angela carried the trays of perfectly made cornbread towards the little tent that Gemma was setting up with some of the Croweaters for the fundraiser. Juice had called her earlier to apologize profusely for not being able to make it in time for the fundraiser. He apparently had more shit to do in Indian Hills and wouldn't be back with the rest of his brothers. That'd soured her mood. It meant she'd have to spend the whole day with Gemma with no excuse to leave. At least this time, she'd had enough time to actually make the cornbread she'd been asked for from scratch, so Gemma wouldn't be able to get on her case about that.

She set the trays down on a table, fighting the urge to grin cockily at Gemma. "Home-made cornbread," she announced, gesturing to the trays.

Gemma looked from them to her and smirked. "Looks much better, undertaker," she commented with a nod of approval. Her hazel eyes swept over her judgingly making her thankful she'd decided to dress modestly in a simple navy ribbed tank top, light jeans, and her classic Adidas Super-stars. A blonde woman she didn't recognize headed over. "Luann, have you met the undertaker? This is Angela, Juice's girl. Undertaker, this is Luann, the porn queen."

The blonde looked her over with bright green-blue eyes and smiled. "Nice to meet you, undertaker."

"Nice to meet you too, porn queen," she replied on an awkward laugh. She had no idea if Gemma was kidding or not about the porn thing.

"I don't star in the movies anymore, I make 'em. Got my own studio," Luanne explained with a wink. Her eyes fell on Angela's chest, making her a little uncomfortable. "You should check it out sometime, sweetheart. A rack like yours, could make some real money. Can do a sexy undertaker thing. Necrophilia is a forgotten niche."

Angela's jaw dropped, then she heard Gemma's low chuckle behind her. "You're fucking with me."

Luanne grinned and nodded. "Big time. Juice is a real good kid. Can't see him wanting his girl takin' her clothes off in front of a camera."

"Yeah, no," she replied, shaking her head. Not to mention what her cousin would think. She was pretty sure whoever was responsible would be murdered if they ever put her in one of those movies. "I did work the makeup counter at the mall for a few years if you ever want that type of help."

"Hey, thanks. I'll keep that in mind," she replied, patting her on the back appreciatively.

Gemma looked between the two of them, and Angela could practically see the wheels turning in her head. "Speaking of makeup...undertaker, 'm sure they could use some help in the face painting booth."

Angela honestly didn't hate that assignment; she liked the idea of not having to stand in the SAMCRO booth all day with just Gemma and whatever sweetbutts showed up to help. "On it," she said, quickly dipping around and heading towards the little tent.

She was thoroughly enjoying painting all sorts of shit on the kids' faces. Her favorite so far had been a little girl who demanded a rainbow handlebar mustache that started a trend of other little girls wanting the same thing.

Kenny Winston walked towards her hands in his pockets. He approached her awkwardly as if he wasn't sure she'd remember him from their interaction at the clubhouse during the last lockdown. "Hey Ken!" she greeted, clearly surprising him. "Want me to paint your face?"

"Hi Angie," he replied, looking a little shocked she remembered him. He shrugged, "I don't have a ticket."

Angela looked around as if checking if the coast was clear before whispering, "I won't tell anyone if you don't."

He grinned, sitting down in front of her. "Can you draw a skull on my arm? Like a tattoo?"

"Oh hell yeah." She grabbed his wrist and got to work on his forearm, aware of his eyes on her. "How're things, Ken? Happy your dad's home?"