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“Shit. This is delicious,” Tristan mumbles with his hand in front of his mouth. His gaze lifts to mine, and for a second I don’t understand his expression. It’s almost…longing? But that doesn’t make sense. He says something else that sounds either like he’s repeating himself or I missed this.
Grandma Madden’s breakfast hash was one of the first things I learned how to make. It was usually mostly potatoes and leftover meat I’d squirreled away. Sometimes I’d get up extra early on the weekend if Flip and Tristan had a game and help my mom make it for them.
“It really is. And so much better than the donuts and stale pizza these two usually eat,” Hemi says.
“So what’s this about my milk endorsement being at risk?” Flip asks. He glances at the take-out cups beside Tristan and Hemi. “Is there a coffee for me?”
“I gave it to someone who values my time more than you do.”
“Here, I saved you a little.” I pass him the mostly empty take-out cup.
“I deserve that.” He finishes what’s left in one gulp and goes back to shoveling food into his face.
“They’re hosting a charity event, and it’s family friendly, but your current behavior isn’t in line with their mission,” Hemi says.
Flip stops shoveling food into his face long enough to ask, “What does that mean?”
“It means they don’t want to use someone who appears as though he has no respect for family values,” she explains.
“How does my prolific sex life mean I have no respect for family values?”
“You slept with someone’s wife this summer, Phillip,” she reminds him.
“She said they were divorced.”
Hemi purses her lips. “You dropped her off at her house, and her husband was mowing the lawn.”
“I sure as hell mowed her lawn,” Flip mumbles.
“She has two kids, Phillip.” Hemi looks appropriately unimpressed.
“Seriously, Flip? Where the hell is your moral compass?” I’m flabbergasted.
Tristan gives him a disgusted look. “You want to sleep with every single bunny in the world, that’s on you, but as someone whose mom left to shack up with one of her colleagues, maybe leave the married women alone.”
Now I’m back to feeling bad for Tristan.
Flip raises his hands. “I’ll stay away from the married ones and dial it back.”
“And no more videos,” Hemi adds. “I can’t help you if you keep posting your antics for the world to see. And stop letting these women take selfies with you while you’re sleeping. You’ll have your own hashtag soon if you’re not careful.” She points her fork at Tristan. “That goes for you, too. You two are magic on the ice, but off it you’re a PR nightmare. Take responsibility for your actions.” She sighs. “Okay, lecture over. I need you two to get dressed. Business casual.”
“What for?” Flip asks.
“You’re serving lunch at a retirement home. Vander Zee’s grandmother lives there, and it’s her ninetieth birthday. You’ll serve sandwiches and cake, and we’ll take some photos and post to socials so fans see you doing something other than making out with women in bars.”
They grumble but shovel in the last few bites of their breakfast hash and Tristan puts their plates in the dishwasher. Flip disappears into his bedroom, but Tristan pauses on the way to his.
He rubs the back of his neck and meets my eyes for a moment. “Thanks for breakfast, Bea.”
“You’re welcome.”
I wait until his bedroom door closes before I turn to Hemi. “Your job is wild.”
“It is. Most of the time, I love it. But these two need to get their heads out of their asses. Anyway, you said something about needing a job. Do you design meal plans for athletes? I know a few guys on the team who would love the help.”
“Oh. No. I just like to cook. I’m actually an accountant.” It’s a stable job with options for growth, and I spent four years getting a degree to do it. Right now I’m happy that I get to cook for more than myself, and that I have a stocked fridge to work with. It’s so much easier to plan meals with a full veggie crisper.
“Really? That’s so cool. No offense, but you seem young to have a degree.”
“I finished school in May. I had a job at a firm, but it wasn’t the right fit.” That is true.
She nods. “Most of our players use our recommended firm for financial management and planning. I’d be happy to see if they have any openings.”
“Really? That would be amazing.”
“Great. Why don’t we exchange numbers? I’ll reach out to my contact and see if they’re hiring, or if they know anyone who is.”
We exchange numbers, and she sends me a message right away.
“Thanks, Hemi. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Let me know if I can do anything else to help.”
Normally I don’t like to use my brother’s career to further my own, but the sooner I get a job, the sooner I can get out of here. Even if that means I’m back to cooking for one.
