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Who knew?
Next, we made heart and cupid shaped cookies, making a gigantic mess of the kitchen. The cookies were cooling on the counter while the girls had gone up to Keri’s room to dance like a herd of baby elephants, and giggle like they were at a standup concert to music that was loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. They were having a wonderful time, and that fact alone kept a smile fixed on my tired face.
Taking a moment to catch my breath, I scrolled through the photos I’d taken of Keri and the twins, of all four of us, and dozens of me and Keri, because I was determined to document our moments together for her for the future. She and Martina had thousands of photos of them together, dancing in cut-off denim shorts, singing with hairbrush microphones, cheering on cowboys at the rodeo, and even random things like grocery shopping.
It was important to my sister to document everything, so I would keep up the tradition as best I could.
I smiled at a few photo of me and Keri, covered in flour, with frosting moustaches, the handmade decorations taking up the background of every photo. They were adorable and family friendly, just the kind of annoying photos that the parents I knew posted on social media. So that’s just what I did.
“Hanging with my favorite girl in the world.”
I never made much of an effort to maintain a social media presence, because I was always too busy working, and truthfully, Martina was the only person I knew who actually cared what I was up to. So I wasn’t expecting much of a response, if any, without my sister and biggest cheerleader around.
With that depressing thought, I got up and made my way to the kitchen which looked like it had been hit by a tornado. There was flour everywhere, sugar ground against the tiles with every step I took, and so much frosting coated the table I wondered if it would be cheaper and more time efficient to replace the thing. Somehow the task of cleaning that one room from top to bottom, including the dishes, took as long as it usually did to clean the entire house.
But I was done.
Finally, blessedly…done.
It felt good to have at least one task accomplished, and that was one damn depressing thought. After my talk with Rashad I’d called Alexi, who hadn’t bothered to call me back. Yet. I decided to give him until the end of the weekend to return my call before I reached out to other agents and managers who might be willing to represent me.
Heidi was right, one day you’re in and the next day you’re out.
I didn’t know if I even wanted to be a influencer. What kind of self-respecting grown ass man wanted to spend his days taking pictures and hawking someone else’s products?
“Me, that’s who. At least I’ve had a life time of experience.” It wasn’t my dream, but it was a convenient way to keep a few bucks rolling in while I settled into my new job as a father.
The doorbell rang at the same time my phone trilled on the coffee table. Since I wasn’t expecting any important calls, I answered the door first. “Can I help you?”
The young kid in a tie-dye t-shirt smiled and thrust an oversized bouquet into my arms. “Delivery for Trey Fine.”
“That’s me, but there must be some mistake.” Maybe someone had sent Keri flowers.
“Nope, says deliver to Trey Fine. That’s you.” The kid smiled and whistled as he walked down the steps and back towards the delivery van.
I closed the door and laughed, figuring it must be some joke from Rashad, but the card read Be My Valentine in a feminine handwriting I recognized immediately.
Valona. Did she mean she wanted me to be her Valentine for real, or was this just a ploy to embarrass me as payback? I didn’t know, and decided I had too much to do to worry about it at the moment. She knew how to find me if she wanted to talk, to fix things between us.
She hadn’t done that yet, and I had no reason to expect it anytime soon.
The phone had stopped ringing and started up again, but instead of rushing like I used to do, I took my time. Setting down the bouquet before I answered, but not without looking at the screen first. “This is Trey.”
“That is how you answer the phone these days? You have become really uncouth my friend.”
“Alexi.” I grinned at his grumpy tone and shook my head at his rudeness. “I take it you got my message?”
“You could say that, I suppose. Or you could say that you have learned to play the game very well, and I think I have something to do with that.” Alexi laughed to himself and I just waited him out. Silently. “I’m sure you are wondering what makes me call you on a Saturday evening.
