Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“What do you mean you’re selling the house?” Bethany screeched the moment she stepped into the kitchen where part of the family was congregated. Her piercing cry of anger echoed through the huge space, and Tristan cringed.
He’d known his sister would have issues with his announcement, but he was ready for her. He was done carrying her financially, and selling some property was just the beginning of the changes he was making for his future.
He sipped his steaming hot coffee as he stared at his sister.
At thirty-years-old, Bethany was the baby of the family and could best be described as spoiled, selfish, entitled, and sometimes demanding.
Tristan hated that he played a role in her turning out the way she had.
Almost five years older, he had always been the protective big brother and made sure she wanted for nothing.
But she was a grown woman now, and his priorities had shifted. Of course, he’d always be there for his family, but there were going to be some changes.
“Where are we supposed to live?” Bethany snapped, standing between her parents who were seated at the large kitchen table.
Though it was early Sunday morning, she looked like she’d been awake for hours. Or maybe she was just getting home. He wasn’t sure. With the size of the house, it was hard keeping track of who was home or not.
Either way, she looked pulled together considering the time of day. Her dreadlocks were piled on top of her head in a stylish twist, and her face was perfectly made up like usual. Wearing a designer sweater, skin-tight jeans, and thigh-high boots she could be going anywhere.
Their grandfather, who also lived in the house, was shaking his head. He loved his grandchildren, but he often said the family, including him, created a monster when it came to Bethany.
“You’re going to live in your own house or apartment that you pay for,” Tristan’s dad said before Tristan could respond. “There is no reason why you should expect your brother to continue supporting your extravagant lifestyle.”
“He doesn’t pay for everything where I’m concerned,” his sister countered weakly. “But that’s beside the point, Dad. If he sells the family home, where are you guys going to live? Is Tristan throwing you out, knowing you can’t afford a place like this?”
She turned her angry gaze back on Tristan, and he snorted.
Damn, he was getting sick of the women in his life glaring at him.
First, Cree the other day, and now Bethany.
At least with Cree, he deserved her anger.
Thankfully he had smoothed things over with her and was now signed with Ellis, Priestly, and Watts Law Firm.
Two days ago, he had gone back to Cree’s office and made it official by signing a contract.
Of course, he had to endure another speech from her insisting they would only have a professional relationship.
And of course, he agreed to keep the peace, but in his mind, his plan was working.
He was back in her life, and it was only a matter of time before she realized she was still in love with him, like he was in love with her.
“Tristan, are you even listening?” Bethany said, her voice louder than before. She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I bet this sudden change has something to do with a woman. Who is she? Is she forcing you to disown your family so you’ll have more money to spend on her? Or is she withholding…”
“Beth!” their mother snapped. “That’s enough! And we’re sitting right here. Use your inside voice and stop acting like a child.”
Tristan was impressed his sister had part of that right.
Yes, he was making changes because of a woman but not the way Bethany was implying.
He would never turn his back on his family, but he wanted his life in order because he was ready for marriage and a family of his own.
Granted, it was presumptuous of him to think he’d get a second chance with Cree, but he had to try.
He couldn’t imagine his future without her in it.
So while trying to win her back, he was getting his house in order, in a manner of speaking.
For the most part, his family members were self-sufficient except for the properties.
He wanted to make sure they all had their own homes, in their names, so they didn’t rely on him as much. Especially his sister.
Bethany huffed out a breath. “How am I supposed to react when you’re springing this on us out of nowhere?” she said to Tristan. “I can’t just snap my fingers and have all my stuff moved out.”
“Yeah, actually, you can,” he countered. “Money talks and you have it. Or at least you should.”
“Besides, it’s not out of nowhere,” their grandfather added. “Tristan has been talking about this for a while. Apparently, you weren’t taking him seriously.”
His mother’s father was in his early eighties and was as mentally sharp as someone half his age. His salt and pepper hair was cut low, and he was dressed in a black tracksuit, looking healthier than Tristan had ever seen him.
“Or he’s only talked about it when I’m in Philadelphia,” Bethany countered and stomped over to the refrigerator in her high-heel boots.
“That reminds me,” Tristan said. “I’m also planning to put the Philly condo up for sale at the end of the month. So, I suggest you move your stuff out of there too.”
Bethany had just grabbed orange juice from the refrigerator and whirled around to face him. “Seriously, Tristan?” she yelled and slammed the bottle on the counter with a thud. “That’s in less than three weeks! You could’ve given me more notice.”
“You’re right. I probably should’ve told you that, since I’ve retired and have moved back to Chicago, I’m selling the properties in Philly. Everything in the condo is mine. So, moving the few clothes and personal items you have there shouldn’t take much.”
He loved his family, and more than anything, he enjoyed giving them the type of life all of them had dreamed of.
His parents and grandfather, as well as Quincy, had never asked for much.
Still, a year after joining the NFL, Tristan had purchased the family house, a huge, eight-bedroom, ten-bathroom, nine-thousand square foot home in Hinsdale, a suburb of Chicago.
The place was large enough for all of them to live comfortably without feeling like they were on top of each other.
This was something they’d talked about for years prior to him entering the NFL.
So when the home was purchased, they all moved in.
Though Tristan only lived there occasionally during the off season, it always felt like home.
As for the condo in Philly, he lived there those first couple of years.
But when they started the nonprofit and hired Bethany, she split her time between Chicago and Philadelphia.
Tristan let her move into the two-bedroom condo, and he purchased a house for himself.
“So where is everyone going?” Bethany asked in a calmer tone though she was still glaring at him.
“We’re getting a smaller place. Something more manageable,” their mother said.
“For years I’ve said we don’t need all this space, especially since you kids are rarely here.
And none of you have blessed us with grandchildren,” she added with a pointed look at each of them, which they both ignored.
“Three or four bedrooms is enough for me, your father, and Papa.”
Instead of staying at the family house, Tristan was currently renting a luxury apartment.
He loved his privacy, and though he had his own space at the big house, it wasn’t the same.
When he moved back to Chicago, he had needed time and solitude to figure out how to embrace his new reality.
He was only thirty-four and hadn’t planned on retiring this soon.
He’d still been dealing with the shock of his world turning upside down.
But now he had a plan. While winning Cree back, he wanted to have his own space for them to get to know each other again.
The real estate agent he contracted with would be working to find something for him, as well as his parents. Quincy had only lived in the family house for a year before buying his own place. That left Bethany, who he already knew would try to stall.
“I suggest you start looking for a place,” Tristan said and stood.
“With what money?” his sister grumbled.
“Young lady, you need to fix your attitude,” their father ground out as he stood to his six-two height. “Your brother has set you up financially with a job at the nonprofit and money in the bank. Surely, you didn’t think you’d be mooching off him for the rest of your life, did you?”
By the expression on her face, she had. Unbelievable.
Not only did she have a great paying job doing fundraising for Tristan’s nonprofit, but he’d set up a trust fund for her.
She’d had access to it since she was twenty-five, and it was enough to live comfortably for the rest of her life.
That is, if she didn’t spend it all on clothes, shoes and other accessories.
“Spoiled brat,” Tristan mumbled.
He started out of the room but slowed and glanced over his shoulder. “Bethany, you either get with the program or you’re going to find all your designer crap out on the front lawn when these houses sell.”
She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
He sauntered out of the room thinking about the next step in his Win-Cree-Back plan. He had Cree, the lawyer, back in his life. Now he just needed Cree, the woman, back.