Bishop
Things had returned to normal almost as soon as Lola left town, but the intervening weeks still left Bishop wondering when he would finally feel normal again. The singer had left her mark on this town, whether he liked it or not. People talked about her in the streets. Girls dyed their hair blonde and did their best to tweeze their eyebrows into the distinctive angle of Lola’s. They sang her songs in the street. Bishop had even heard that the mayor extended an official invitation for Lola to come back to Rolling Hills and get the chance to enjoy it this time, with a full police escort, of course.
But he highly doubted she would ever take him up on that, and he couldn’t blame her. The police had made no headway on who the nameless gunman was. Plenty of people had seen him, but reports had come in that the man had worn a mask and plain clothing. Even his gun hadn’t been anything special. If anyone knew or suspected who he was, they weren’t saying.
There had been nothing good that had happened to her while she’d been here, except for their afternoon together. Even then, he might have been the only one who still thought of it as a good thing. Lola had probably gone home and was living her normal life without any more thoughts of her time in this little town.
Bishop sat at the bar, nursing a beer and trying to decide what he was going to do. Things had been almost too quiet, and he didn’t like it. As the leader of a motorcycle club, he was used to a little bit of drama and excitement. He needed something to get his blood pumping again, and sitting around at The Dive wasn’t cutting it.
“Can you believe this place?” Jimmy asked excitedly. He’d been so busy mixing and pouring that he’d barely had a chance to talk to Bishop since he’d arrived. “I told you Lola would be good for business, and I wasn’t wrong!”
“Sounds to me like it’s time to change the name on the sign and trade out all the décor for lipstick and lollipops,” Bishop replied sarcastically.
The bartender raised his eyebrow as he wiped down the bar. “Someone sounds bitter.”
“I’m just bored.”
“You should have been a little more forthcoming with your part in keeping Lola alive,” Jimmy advised. “I know you were the one who saved her from those bullets, but I haven’t heard anybody talk about it. You were a hero.”
Bishop pressed his lips together. “I don’t think so.”
“I do. And it would have brought you your share of fame. All these Lola fans would be all over you, too. You’d get all the pussy you wanted.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Bishop laughed softly. He could already get all the pussy he wanted, but the one that he actually did want was thousands of miles away. “I’m not a hero, and I don’t want the publicity.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you don’t really need it. You’re famous enough in these parts, right?”
That wasn’t what Bishop meant, but he let it go. It wasn’t something he really wanted to go into.
“Speak of the devil; there she is.” Jimmy picked up the remote from a shelf behind the bar and turned up the volume on the flat-screen TV that hung from the ceiling. Lola was on the screen, her hair and makeup fresh. Bishop had had the privilege of seeing her without any of that, just her face fresh from a steaming bath and her naked flesh. He’d liked her that way, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate how good she looked when she’d been done up for the camera.
“I’m here with Lola Lennox,” said a reporter with short spiky hair and wide brown eyes, addressing the camera. “It’s no secret that an attempt was made on her life just over a month ago. We’ve shared the reports right here on Primetime News, but now I have the opportunity to sit down with Lola and talk to her about the experience as well as her upcoming album. Lola, so good of you to join us tonight.”
Lola smiled pleasantly, sitting in a comfy upholstered sofa that matched the one the reporter sat in. With a coffee table between them, they looked like two friends getting together at one another’s house to catch up on the latest gossip. “Thank you for having me, Tonya.”
“I know you’ve got a new album coming out next month. Can you start off by telling us a little bit about that?”
“Of course.” Lola beamed, every bit back in her world of being a famous singer. She wasn’t a troubled but beautiful woman at a bar, nor was she a sexy diva locked in a hotel. She was just a performer. Bishop understood, but he wished he could see the real Lola and not this fake image that she had to put out.
“It’s something that we worked very hard on, actually. There was a lot more time and effort going into this album than the last album. My producer and I wanted it to have a very specific theme, and we planned out everything from the songs to the music videos to the tour that will accompany it. Things were a little more off-the-cuff on the first album, but I don’t think any of us expected it to get as big as it did.”
Tonya nodded understandingly. “And what has it been like for you to practically be an overnight sensation? You didn’t compete on any of the reality shows that often launch careers for artists these days, and you never released any indie or small label records, so at least for those of us on the other side of the radio, it all seems very quick.”
“It’s definitely been a bit of a whirlwind, but it’s been a lot of fun. I’ve made some very good friends along the way, and I’ve learned a lot.” Lola smiled with those perfectly painted pink lips of hers. Bishop remembered exactly what they felt like against his. He knew it was time to move on, but neither the rest of the town nor the media seemed interested in doing so.
“Up until the incident last month, you were a star who stayed fairly well out of the spotlight. What was your life like before you became famous?”
There was a slight twitch in Lola’s mouth that made Bishop sit up straight. He hadn’t seen that look from her before yet, but he instantly knew what it meant. She was uncomfortable. What had happened to her in her past? It was something they hadn’t talked about. Granted, they hadn’t spent all that much time talking.
“I think it would be best summed up by saying that it was very simple. I was very lucky to get picked up like I did, and it often feels like I’m living a completely different life.” Lola leaned forward and picked up a glass of water from the table, her sparkly earrings shining in the stage lights.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Tonya pressed.
“It’s just how things are.” Lola smiled again, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Bishop brooded on his barstool. He knew there was more to the story than what Lola was telling, even though he didn’t know any of the facts. What bothered him even more was that there was nothing he could do about it. He was a man of action, and he felt useless.
“Now, what was it like for you that night? We all want to know exactly what happened in Rolling Hills.” The reporter gave her an inquisitive look.
Bishop drained his beer, slammed his empty mug down on the bar, and swiveled his stool toward the door. He didn’t want to hear anything about the night of the shooting. He knew exactly how it had happened and that Lola would never tell the truth. She wouldn’t admit on live television that a group of rowdy bikers had distracted her bodyguards, allowing the gunman to get near her in the first place. She wouldn’t say that she’d been rescued by one of those same rowdy bikers, who kissed her in the alley that night and banged her in her hotel room the next night. They were the kind of juicy details that the media would probably eat up, but they wouldn’t help Lola’s career or reputation. Especially if they could know just what that little sex kitten had looked like when Bishop had her bent over the desk in the hotel room, juices dripping from her core and running down his balls.
“Where are you going?” Jimmy asked, suddenly realizing that Bishop was leaving. “They’re just getting to the good part.”
“I’ve got things to do.” He headed for the door, noticing that everyone else in the bar was engrossed in the interview. But he also knew they were only interested because she was a celebrity, and for them that made her different. He knew who she really was. Bishop flung open the door and left.