Cree sighed. Sometimes she forgot Tristan used to be in the public’s eye. She debated on how much to share with her brother. Since she and Tristan had talked about what to tell people, she’d just stick with that.
“We met years ago. I was his agent and got him his first NFL contract.”
Cree’s chest puffed out at that admission. She’d been so busy thinking about Tristan’s betrayal and how their marriage ended, she hadn’t thought much about how she’d been the catalyst for getting him into the NFL. She had kick-started his professional career, and that was something to be proud of.
Zion’s mouth hung open and his eyes were wide. “Seriously? Wow, sis, that’s amazing. I had no idea you even knew the guy, let alone represented him at some point in his career.”
Cree nodded, hoping the conversation would stop there, but of course it didn’t.
“How long were you his agent? Wait, I thought he’d been with Ralph Dawson his whole career. Why didn’t—”
“Stop,” Cree said, holding up her hands. “It’s a long story, and I’m going to give you the Cliff’s Notes version. Tristan started out with me, but I was a new agent at the time, still learning the industry. Ralph came along and took his career further than I ever could.”
“You don’t know that,” Zion said, a frown on his face. “You’re the best at everything you set out to do. You could’ve been just as good as Ralph if not better.”
“Thanks for that,” she shrugged, “but Ralph did a great job with Tristan’s career.”
To think, a couple of weeks ago, she wouldn’t have admitted that. She’d still been calling foul on how everything had played out back then. Now, she was comfortable giving credit where credit was due.
“Yeah, I guess,” Zion said.
Cree didn’t bother telling him that she was representing Tristan again. Actually, she wasn’t ready to think about that in length. Her moral compass was already tilted, and at some point, she would need to make some decisions. Dating a client, even if Tristan was so much more than that, wasn’t a good idea no matter how she tried to spin it in her mind.
Before Zion could ask more questions, their mother’s voice could be heard outside and getting closer.
“Oh, boy,” Zion said and grabbed the beers, then hustled out of the kitchen.
“Don’t leave me,” Cree whisper-shouted to his retreating back just as their mother rushed into the house and straight to the kitchen with a picnic basket. She was followed by a man Cree didn’t recognize, as well as her Aunt GiGi.
“Hey sweetie, I’m glad you’re here,” her mother said, setting the basket on the counter, then giving her a quick hug.
Her mother, with deep bronze skin and her straight hair pulled back into a bun, had changed out of her church clothes. She looked comfortable and at home in a long, royal blue and white caftan. Unlike Cree’s aunt, her mother’s sister, who looked like she’d just left a photoshoot. Like usual, her face was perfectly made up, her long braids freshly done, and she was dressed stylishly in a red sweater dress with a wide belt around her waist.
“I want you to meet the youth pastor from my church,” Cree’s mom said.
“Virginia,” Aunt GiGi said in a warning tone. Her aunt rolled her eyes, and Cree smiled, knowing that when Virginia Priestly was on a mission, no one could stop her.
“Pastor Avery, this is my daughter, Cree. The one I was telling you about, and Cree this is Kevin Avery.”
Cree shook his hand, and they exchanged pleasantries. The moment was awkward, and the pastor looked as uncomfortable as she felt. He was probably just realizing he was her mother’s latest victim of one of many of her matchmaking attempts.
But what was her mom thinking? This guy, though nice looking, was so not Cree’s type. He was close to her height with a slim build, and his wire-rimmed glasses gave him a geeky appearance. He looked more like an accountant, who should be sitting behind a desk crunching numbers, than a youth pastor.
Cree wasn’t even a little attracted to him. She preferred tall, muscular men who had a bad boy swagger and looked as if he could carry a building on his shoulders. Kind of like her man, the hottie who was currently making his way to the kitchen.
“Whoa. Who’s the hunk?” Aunt GiGi gushed and set a grocery bag on the counter. Then she intercepted Tristan before he reached them. “Hi handsome. I’m GiGi, and you are?”
“He’s mine, Aunt GiGi. So don’t get any ideas,” Cree said loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Then she strolled across the room to save him from her aunt, who attracted men half her age. Cree slid her hand into Tristan’s.
“Well, all right, niece. I see you, girl. Seems you have good taste like your auntie.”
Cree laughed and made introductions. Her mother didn’t say much, but when Tristan greeted her with a kiss to the back of her hand, she giggled like a schoolgirl.
Cree shook her head. Mr. Irresistible strikes again. All she could do was smile as she watched them, including the pastor, fawn over her man. Turns out, the pastor was a huge fan of Tristan’s.
Tristan talked to each one of them as if they were the most important people in the world, and Cree fell a little more in love with him. Though her mother and aunt had no clue of his notoriety, Pastor Avery knew more about him than Cree would’ve thought.
After a few more minutes of conversation, Virginia looped her arm with her guest.
