Love Me Forever Page 6

“Yes, he has, and I am in agreement with him,” Brice said, with a nod.

  “Well, can you two bring me up to speed?” Langston interjected.

  Jarred went on to tell him about the conversation he’d had with Emerson, ending with the computer genius’s suppositions.

  “That would make sense, considering what I’ve just learned,” Langston said.

  Jarred sat up straighter in his chair and stared at his brother. “What have you learned?” he and Brice asked almost simultaneously.

  “Dad definitely didn’t do his homework on this one. For one thing, Tempest has several settled lawsuits and one pending suit filed against them. Cases ranging from underwater mortgages to bribery. I’m compiling a list of complaints and I’ll apprise you of the results after I’m done. Jarred, we’re going to have to put our fancy law degrees to use in a big way in order to fix this mess at Tempest.”

  “We need to get this done quickly. Before the next board meeting for sure. I don’t want anything getting out about Tempest until we can get a handle on things. We don’t need our stock taking a hit because of this nightmare of a business we’ve inherited,” Jarred groaned. He felt a king-size headache coming on.

  “I told Dad not to invest in that company. I told him,” Brice stormed.

  “Yeah, yeah, Brice, we know. Too late now. We have to make the best of the cards we’ve been dealt. We need to handle this and move on,” Jarred said.

  “I agree.” Langston chimed in. “Nothing we can do about it now. It’s no longer Josiah Tempest’s problem. It’s ours. We have to be the ones to turn things around.”

  “And we’re going to need all hands on deck to do that,” Jarred replied. “However, I’m not trusting any of Tempest’s employees. In light of the new information, we need thorough background checks on the employees that are working for us, and on anyone who was in a top position and no longer is with the company. As well as anyone who was abruptly fired from Tempest. The works.”

  Brice nodded. “I’ll get with the security team, and do a little bit of research on my own, as well. I have a lot of contacts. I’ll start with financials. However, we need to get into that computer.”

  “That’s one of our top priorities, for sure. Getting into that computer may eliminate a few steps in this tedious process,” Jarred said.

  His cell began to chime. Instinctively, he grabbed it and answered. “Jarred Manning.”

  “Jarred?”

  Nevea, he said to himself, and then swiveled his chair away from his brothers.

  “Where are you?” he asked crisply.

  “Working,” she responded, her tone just as brisk. “Why, what do you want?”

  “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. You never phoned and haven’t returned any of my calls,” he said, a little calmer now.

  “That’s because I didn’t have time. I’m working. I told you I would be catching a plane out the next morning when we were together Sunday. So what’s the problem?”

  Jarred ran his hand across his face. He needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret later on. From the tone of her voice she was already teed off with him. He couldn’t understand why she was being snippy. She was the one not returning calls. However, he did remember her saying she’d be flying out. He’d just forgotten about it.

  “Yeah, you did.” He sighed heavily.

  “Listen, I need to catch at least an hour’s nap before I have to get back to work.”

  “It’s almost quitting time and you’re going back to work?” he questioned, and was glad she couldn’t see his scowl.

  “Not here. It’s a little after four in the morning in my time zone.”

  “Just where are you?” he asked, his scowl deepening.

  “Japan.”

  Jarred swallowed hard. What in the world was she doing in Japan, and just what business did she have there? Was it part of her work as a consultant for NCIS? These were all questions that would have to wait for answers until she returned.

  “When do you come home?” he found himself asking.

  “I don’t know, Jarred. When the job is done. Hopefully soon. I’m worn-out. My body hasn’t really adjusted to the time change yet.” As if to underscore what she said, she yawned.

  “Are you eating properly?”

  “No. I don’t have time to worry about it,” she responded. Jarred could hear the tiredness in her voice.

  “We’re going to have a conversation about that when you get back. Rest. Call me when you can,” he whispered.

  “I’ll try. Talk to you soon, Jarred. Bye.”

  “Talk to you soon, love,” he said, and smiled to himself as he disconnected the call. He could have sworn he heard a smile in her voice, too. He made a mental note to look up the time zone difference and text her three times a day to remind her to eat and rest. Hopefully, she’d actually see the text. She was bound to see one, if not all.

  Jarred’s smile was broad as he swung his chair back around—only to come face-to-face with his brothers. Ah, hell. He’d forgotten that they were still in his office. The smirks they both sported were telltale signs that they’d been listening to his conversation.

  “What?” he asked, playing dumb. He was not going to tell them he was talking to Nevea. Nope. His love life, or lack thereof, was none of their business.

  “Well, well, well, I do believe our brother has gone and found himself a woman,” Langston said.

  “It’s about time,” Brice added. “Moaning and groaning over Lainey was working my last nerve. So who is she?”

  “I have no idea what you two are talking about. Now get out of my office. We all have work to do.”

  Brice and Langston’s collective bellyaching put a smile on Jarred’s face. That’ll teach them a lesson for trying to get into my personal affairs, Jarred thought.

  “Oh, I forgot. I asked Emerson to meet with us on Monday morning,” he called out to the retreating duo.

  “For what?” Langston asked.

  “I want to promote him to head of Security. He deserves it. He’s practically running the security and IT departments as it is. He may as well get paid for it,” Jarred said. “You agree?”

  “Good move. He’s a good man. The promotion is well deserved,” Langston said.

  “I don’t have a problem with it. Like Langston said, Emerson’s a good guy,” Brice chimed in.

  “Glad we’re all in agreement. See you later,” Jarred said, and then picked up a folder. He didn’t lift his head until his office door closed. Then he swiveled his chair around to face the window. He started as his door opened again and Brice peeked in.

  “For the record, don’t be too rough on Nev. She works hard and forgets to take care of herself. Tell her I said hello when she calls you back,” Brice said confidently. Then he laughed and closed the door after him.

  “His arrogance is annoying,” Jarred said to the empty room.

  Chapter 7

  Nevealise opened her eyes in a haze of cotton webs, or at least that’s what it felt like. She’d returned to Cambridge last night and had gone straight to her bed. Her comfortable bed, but most importantly, her own bed. But now someone was ringing her bell and pounding on her door. Grabbing her eyeglasses off the night table, she looked at her bedside clock. Five o’clock in the evening.

  “Wow,” she mumbled. She’d been sleeping for about fourteen hours straight, and she was still tired. The insistent pounding continued. After jumping up from the bed, Nevealise made her way to the door. “Who is it?” she called.

  “Nevea, it’s me, Jarred. Open up, love.”

  Why was he here? Better yet, how did he know where she lived? She unlocked and opened the door to a smiling Jarred.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” she murmured sleepily. His smile vanished as
he gave her a once-over.

  “Nevea, I think you need to let me in. You’re standing in the doorway in your underwear,” he said huskily.

  Nevealise looked down at herself, cried in horror and took off running to her bedroom, where she slipped on pajama pants and a tank top, and then quickly brushed her teeth. When she went back to find Jarred, he wasn’t where she’d left him. He was in her kitchen, removing containers of food from two plastic grocery bags.

  “What are you doing?” Nevealise asked.

  “Feeding you. From the looks of it you’ve been starving yourself.”

  Nevealise smiled. From the day he found out that she was in Japan, a week ago, he’d texted her three times a day telling her to eat. A smiley face emoji always accompanied the text. She’d been able to call him only a couple times, but he’d phoned her twice a day, leaving her a good-morning and a good-night voice mail.

  She took a seat at the breakfast nook. “How’d you know I hadn’t eaten anything? I’ve been back since last night.”

  “I figured with the time zone difference you’d probably sleep the day away. I hadn’t expected you to still be asleep,” he chuckled.

  “Yeah, but I told you I’d drive out to your place on Sunday. It takes a couple of days, sometimes more, for my body to adjust to time changes.”

  “I know you did, but I wanted to see you sooner. It’s been two weeks, you know,” he murmured, looking over at her.

  “Almost two weeks. It would have been two weeks on Sunday,” she corrected him. “You know, no one’s ever looked after me like you’ve been doing. I mean, not since I was in high school. It felt good,” she whispered.

  “Oh, come now. I know your parents and brothers checked on you,” he teased.

  “Sure, my mom and brothers, but they don’t count. They’re family.”

  “They still count. You need to eat,” he said, turning the containers toward her. “We have baked chicken, veggies, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, rolls and corn bread. For dessert there’s apple pie, blueberry pie and strawberry cheesecake. What do you want to start with, and where are your dishes?”

  “Everything you need is in the cabinet across from you, and I’ll have everything except for corn bread. Afterward, I’ll have the apple pie for dessert.” She eyed the food with longing. Just then her stomach betrayed her and growled. It was so loud that Nevealise was embarrassed.

  “Tell your stomach to hold its horses. Your food is coming right up,” he said with a chuckle as he started piling food on a plate. “Eat up,” he added, when he brought it over to her.

  “This looks scrumptious. Aren’t you having any?” she asked, and scooped up a healthy helping of mashed potatoes with gravy.

  “Yes, I am. Fixing my plate now,” he said, and then snapped his fingers as if he’d forgotten something.

  “What?”

  “Drinks. Do you have anything?”

  “There should be water, juice and sodas in the fridge. I can’t remember if I restocked.” She frowned, biting on a piece of chicken.

  He opened the refrigerator and barked her name. “Nevea!”

  She startled. “What’s wrong?” she asked hurriedly.

  “You have a refrigerator full of energy drinks and nothing else,” he said, sounding horrified.

  “There’s got to be more in there.”

  “Nevea, you have exactly two bottles of water, a container of orange juice that I am sure is expired, along with what looks like it could have been milk. The rest is multiple cans of energy drinks. You’re going to kill yourself with that stuff,” he said, chastising her. “I thought singers took better care of their voices?”

  “Jarred, stop being so dramatic. Energy drinks are not dangerous at all.” She shrugged. “They’re my fuel for my all-nighters.”

  “And just how many of those do you have?”

  “The drinks or the all-nighters?”

  “Both.”

  “A lot.”

  “Nevea, energy drinks are intended to give you a boost, not to supplement meals or replace them,” he said, grabbing two bottles of water and going to sit next to her at the breakfast nook. “Here, drink this. No more energy drinks for you while I’m here.”

  “I don’t want two bottles of water. Besides, if I drink both of these, what are you going to drink?”

  “I don’t know. Do you have any alcohol in this place? I could use a stiff drink,” he grunted.

  “I may have a bottle of chardonnay hanging around,” she said, getting up to go in search of it.

  “Why am I not surprised? Girlie wine and energy drinks. Don’t bother. I’m not really a wine drinker. I’ll have a bottle of water. Sit back down and eat,” he said, digging into his food.

  Nevealise shrugged, sat and began to consume the rest of her meal. Jarred kept piling extra food on her plate and she ate every bit like a champ.

  “Wow, I was really hungry,” she said, astounded at the amount of food she’d eaten.

  “You were. This is what happens when you starve yourself. I would make a pot of coffee, but there isn’t any milk. Is there a grocery store or something in the area?” Jarred asked.

  “There’s a delicatessen a few blocks away if milk’s all you want,” she said around a yawn. “There are plenty of grocery stores around here. I suggest staying local, since you don’t know the area. Where’d you park?”

  “In one of your spots. You did say you have two.” When she gave him a puzzled look, he added, “You told me exactly where you lived. Do you remember any of our conversations? Never mind, go back to bed. You’re dead on your feet. I’ll take a ride to the store. Scratch that. I’ll walk to a store. Give me your door key so I can let myself back inside,” he said, holding his hand out.

  “There should be a set on the table in the entryway. Grab those,” she said. “I’m going to lie down. I’m sorry. So tired.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. Go lie down. I’ll be back shortly,” he said, and walked over to place a kiss on her forehead.

  Nevealise went back into her bedroom and climbed into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Jarred had returned from the store over an hour ago. He’d checked on Nevea. She was dead to the world. She must have been really tired. She hadn’t stirred when he walked into her bedroom and placed a kiss on her head.

  Nevealise’s town house was really clean for someone who claimed she couldn’t cook and was always on the go. Jarred had given himself a tour. Her place was more modern than his, with stainless steel appliances, marble countertops and hardwood floors throughout. The rooms didn’t have a whole lot of furnishings, but they had a fresh lemony smell that actually suited her.

  Jarred looked down at his watch. It was nine o’clock in the evening. He was sitting in her den watching television and listening to the bustling sounds from outside. His cell phone chimed and he answered.

  “Jarred, where are you?” Langston’s voice came through the earpiece.

  “Out. Why?”

  “You left the office early and no one has seen or heard from you. I was just wondering.”

  “I’m fine, Langston. I just needed to get away and clear my head for a bit.”

  “I hear you, man. I’m thinking of doing the same. I may go hang out in the Poconos for the weekend. If I didn’t have any meetings tomorrow, I’d leave tonight.”

  “Cancel them and go,” Jarred said.

  “Wait a minute. You’re not dying or something, are you, bro?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Jarred replied drily.

  “Well, something’s wrong if you’re telling me to cancel meetings and take off.”

  “We’ve been killing ourselves for six months. At the rate we’re going, one or all of us will have a he
art attack.”

  “I’ve had my yearly physical and according to my doctor I’m fit as a fiddle.”

  “Langston, my brother, stress kills, too.”

  “That is true. Listen, my secretary is peeking her head in my door.” His brother’s groan was heard through the telephone. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  “Talk to you tomorrow.” Jarred didn’t tell him that he wouldn’t be in the office. He planned on spending as much time as he could with Nevea, before his job and hers intruded again.

  He put his cell phone away, kicked off his shoes and stretched out across the leather sofa. He’d rest up a bit before Nevea awakened. As soon as his eyes closed, he drifted off to sleep. At one point he glanced up briefly and thought he saw a cover or something being placed on him. Whatever it was, it was soft. He snuggled deeper into the warmth. “Thank you,” he mumbled, and that was the last thing he remembered.

  Chapter 8

  Jarred came awake slowly. His eyes moved across the room as he tried to get his bearings. For a minute he was confused by his surroundings, and then it hit him: he was at Nevea’s. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa in the den. He glanced down at the soft throw that covered him. So he hadn’t imagined it. A slow smile began to inch across his lips.

  Sitting up, he glanced at his watch and was stunned at the time. It was after eight in the morning. He’d never slept past six. At eight o’clock he’d have already been sitting behind his desk at work, and on his third cup of coffee.

  “You’re awake.” A throaty voice came from the doorway.

  Jarred swung his gaze in that direction. Nevealise stood in the open doorway. Her hair was in a disheveled mess all over her head. Her natural beauty shone as bright as the morning sun. She wore a pair of boxer-type shorts and a long-sleeved shirt similar to the one she’d worn at his house. Only this one fit her hand like a half glove—her thumb sticking out through a slit in the sleeve. In her hand was a coffee mug that she had a death grip on, and she shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

  Why was she nervous? Was she feeling this pull, this attraction that couldn’t be contained? It had been there from the very beginning and hadn’t subsided. His manhood began to throb and swell against his slacks. He wanted her with a fierceness that couldn’t be denied. His eyes bored into hers, almost daring her to look away. The rise and fall of her chest was a sure sign that she was just as aware of him as he was of her.