With the light-gray lace camisole beneath it, and the fitted skirt that stopped just above her knees, the outfit was sexy and sophisticated, yet professional enough for a business setting. It also showcased her best assets, her 36Ds as well as her long legs. At 5’7” she was taller than most women, and when she added her four-inch heels, she stood out in any crowd. Which had suited her well at her meetings this morning.
Small talk flowed between them as they visited, something they tried to do weekly. Essence was planning a trip to Atlanta in a few weeks for a family weekend at Clark Atlanta University where Tray attended. What didn’t surprise Cree was that Jackson, Essence’s best friend, was going with her. God bless that man. Cree didn’t know how he maintained his staying power. He was in love with her sister, but Essence seemed clueless. Then again, maybe that had finally changed. Maybe that was why she was working on her appearance and getting out more.
“I’m thinking about moving to Atlanta,” Essence announced just as Cree lifted her coffee cup.
“I guess I don’t have to ask why,” she said and took a careful sip of the steaming hot brew.
Cree and her siblings often accused Essence of being a helicopter parent while Tray was growing up. Granted, Cree understood her protectiveness, but Tray had turned into a responsible, independent young man. He deserved and wanted the chance to be on his own and start experiencing life without his mother hovering. At least that’s what he had confided in her shortly before he left for college.
“You just don’t understand,” Essence said defensively while picking at her cheese Danish. “I miss him like crazy, and he hasn’t even been gone two months. If I live there, at least I can see him on the weekends. And we both know I won’t have a problem finding a job.”
“That might be so, but what happens when he moves to a different state after he graduates? And then he moves again because of a job offer, and then another. Are you going to follow him everywhere he goes?”
“Maybe,” Essence mumbled, not looking at Cree.
“What does Jackson think about it?”
Essence sighed. “He thinks, and I quote, ‘Peaches, you doin’ too much’,” she said, her lips twitching when she finally met Cree’s eyes.
Cree laughed. “I agree, and we both know Jackson has never steered you wrong. You told me that he suggested you and him take a trip somewhere soon. Why don’t you do that and stop worrying about Tray?”
“We’re going on vacation in a few weeks. We’re going to Atlanta.”
“To see Tray,” Cree countered. “That’s not a vacation. Sitting on a beach, soaking up sun, and drinking cocktails with little umbrellas in them is a vacation.”
Essence rolled her eyes and went back to eating. “I don’t know why I tell you anything,” she murmured, and Cree laughed again.
“Because I’m your bestie. Well, next to Jackson that is, but okay, I’ll back off. Has Dorian been consuming all your time with her wedding plans?” Cree asked.
Their youngest sister, Dorian, had recently gotten engaged, and Essence and their mother were helping plan the New Year’s Eve wedding.
“Everything is going okay, but I’m sure Dorian’s going to get sick of her future mother-in-law and our mother sooner than later because…”
A scuffle at the entrance of the coffee shop caught their attention. Customers gathered around three tall individuals who were talking and laughing, and Cree groaned. She recognized all of them, but one in particular as he signed autographs.
Of all the coffee shops in the city, why’d he have to pick that one?
She had hoped when she’d seen Tristan Whitmore several weeks ago, while she was shopping with her sister, that it would be the last time. But nope, no such luck.
“Oh boy. Don’t look now, but your—”
“He’s not my anything,” Cree ground out. “And I think this is a good time to end our visit. I need to get going anyway. We can talk about Dorian’s wedding later.”
“Cree, stop. Just talk to him. It’s been years, and you both deserve some closure.”
“I got closure when I told him to lose my damn telephone number and to go to hell.”
Cree knew she was being a jerk, but Tristan was still a sore topic with her. Seeing him again brought back too many memories, and they weren’t all good.
She gathered her large bag, which doubled as a purse and laptop carrier, and then she grabbed her trash.
“I’m out of here,” she said and blew her sister a kiss before walking away.
If Cree was lucky, she might be able to slip past Tristan without him seeing her. He’d been forced to retire from the NFL, the National Football League, after an injury, and she’d heard he had moved back to Chicago.
God, she hoped that wasn’t true. They probably traveled in the same circles, and that would mean there was a good chance she’d run into him more than she’d prefer.
Taking advantage of the crowd that surrounded him, Cree moved around the perimeter of the space and kept her head down while making her way to the door. She had barely touched the handle before she jolted from the feel of a large hand on her hip.
