GPS the closest diner,” he heard Langston say, but his thoughts were still on Nevea. He found himself willing Sunday to come fast.
Jarred lay in his king-size bed and looked over at the bedside clock. Six in the morning. He’d gotten very little sleep last night, and the night before. Usually, it was the trials of the office that kept him awake at night, but not this time. No, this time it was something sexy and tantalizing. Nevealise Tempest. Ever since he’d laid eyes on her Friday night, Jarred hadn’t been able to get her off his mind.
She didn’t know it, but he’d gone back to the club on Saturday, sat in the back away from the stage and watched her work her magic with the crowd. Jarred was surprised that she hadn’t made it big in the music industry. She was just that good. According to Norman, people came from all over to see her perform, but she wasn’t interested in the fame. She just loved singing and the atmosphere of Heavens. Norman had gone on to say that everyone in the club was surprised that she hadn’t been around for almost a year, and then suddenly, two months ago, she’d appeared out of the blue, better than ever.
“What kept you away from the place you so obviously love, Nevea?” he asked in the semidarkened bedroom.
Jarred pushed the covers off and swung his legs over the bed, his bare feet touching the floor. He walked to the bureau, grabbed a pair of gym shorts and pulled them on over his boxer briefs. Then he put on a pair of socks and his sneakers and went into his en suite bathroom, where he washed his face and brushed his teeth. Jarred quickly grabbed his cell phone and then made his way to his basement, which housed his basketball court and gym.
Jarred went through a few warm-up drills before grabbing his basketball and running up and down the court, shooting baskets. Basketball was his game in high school and in college. He still loved the sport and played as much as he could. Not being able to get out to play with the fellas because of his demanding hours, he’d had his basement renovated into a full court.
He played for about an hour and a half before finally stopping and sitting on the floor, his back against the padded wall, his breathing heavy. He’d needed that workout.
“Oh, man. Jarred, either you’re getting old or you need to get back in shape,” he groaned, his arms on his knees and his head bowed, trying to suck in as much air as he could. Pushing up off the floor, he walked over to the bench where he’d placed his cell phone, and left the gym.
Brice hadn’t phoned yet to say if Nevea was in fact coming, so it was basically a waiting game. An impatient waiting game. Jarred made his way to the master bathroom, showered, then dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt from his alma mater, Howard University.
Next he needed a cup of coffee. Just as he was leaving his room, his cell phone chimed. He rushed to grab it from the bureau and looked at the caller ID. It was Brice.
“Man, you owe me big time and I plan to collect soon,” his brother said.
“She’s coming?”
“Yes. What did you say to her? I had a time convincing her to come to your house. She’ll be there between ten thirty and eleven thirty.” Brice laughed. “Or more likely by one thirty.”
“What kind of timing is that?” Jarred frowned.
“Nev is as smart as a whip, but she gets lost going around the corner. She thinks she’s smarter than the navigation system and gets lost every time.”
It was Jarred’s turn to chuckle. “I guess I won’t make the eggs until she actually shows up at the door. From what you’re saying, I may be making burgers, anyway. Why doesn’t she take the train in and I’ll pick her up from the station?”
“That would be a negative, brother. She would have to take the train into Penn and then the subway to Brooklyn. There is no way I’d trust Nev on the subway by herself.”
“And you trust her to drive here?”
“She’s a good driver. Her problem is unless she’s singing, Nev always thinks in numbers. She tries to calculate everything. She’s not familiar with Brooklyn. Remember, like us, she grew up on Long Island. There are a lot of one-way streets in the five boroughs. Trust me, she’ll calculate herself up in Albany somewhere.”
“Damn.” Jarred was laughing full out now. “How am I supposed to know if she’s lost?”
“I gave her your cell number. I doubt she’ll use it, so you take hers.”
Jarred walked over to his nightstand and took out a notepad and pen. “Go ahead.” He wrote down the digits as swiftly as Brice called them out.
There was a lot of rustling in the background on Brice’s end, and then what sounded like a voice or voices.
“What’s that noise?” Jarred raised a brow.
“No worries, brother. Talk to you soon. Tell Nev don’t be too mad at me. Bye,” Brice said, and disconnected the call.
Jarred stared down at his phone as if willing Brice to come through it so he could choke him.
“You keep hanging up on me, little brother, and I’m going to have to teach you some manners by going upside your lopsided head,” Jarred said.
He went into the kitchen to get the coffeepot started. While he waited, he grabbed the remote control and turned the television on to watch the highlights of last night’s basketball games.
Jarred went to the fridge and poured himself a glass of juice, downing it almost in one gulp. He was on his third cup of coffee and into the replay of the Knicks game when he heard his doorbell ring. It was 9:40 a.m. on a Sunday. Who could that be this time of morning? he thought, getting up to check. He looked through the peephole, then unlocked and opened the door.
“Nevea?” She was standing there wringing her hands. She looked like the nerd girl he’d often called her. Gone was the classy look from last night. Her hair pinned up in a fluffy ponytail, a white blouse was tucked into ripped jeans and a lightweight jacket. Complete with a pair of silver framed wire-rim glasses. Not as chic as she was at the club, but still just as beautiful. The schoolmarm look fit her personality perfectly. She’s mine. All day every day.
“Brice did say the meeting had changed to your place.”
“Yes. Yes. Come on in,” he said, standing to the side to allow her to enter. “Brice said you would be here between ten thirty and eleven thirty.”
“Knowing Brice, he said I would be here even later than that,” she replied. “I’m not too early, am I?”
“No, of course not. Come on in and have a seat.” He led her to the living room, where she sat on the sofa. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Sure.”
“How do you take it?”
“Milk, no sugar. I know I’m early, but what time are Brice and Langston due here?”
“Shortly,” Jarred lied, taking a cup and saucer from the cupboard. “I’m gathering you found the place without a hitch.”
