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The Only One for Me

Page 16

by Bridget Anderson


  Just before his scheduled retirement, Jarred’s father, William Manning, the founder of the family corporation, had purchased Tempest, a failing mortgage company, from his close friend Josiah Tempest—and promptly turned Jarred’s comfortable life into a constant treadmill of work. Instead of spending his nights in the arms of a beautiful woman, he now spent them at his Manhattan office.

  William Manning had started the company slowly. An investment banker, he’d purchased one bank and then another. When Jarred and his two brothers had come into the company they’d added two more banks, just within the last five years, and as recently as a year ago the corporation had acquired a small chain of banks that specialized in mortgages for low-income families. All sound business decisions. But Jarred could not understand the last takeover his father had spearheaded, a few months ago—the in-the-red Tempest Mortgage Company.

  Nor could he understand how his father had promptly retired as CEO of Manning Enterprises right after that and moved with their mom back to his birthplace of Paris, Texas, where they owned a farmhouse. William had handed the reins of Manning Enterprises to Jarred and his younger brothers, Langston and Brice. An attorney himself, Langston often worked closely with Jarred, while Brice, the financial wiz of the family, preferred to operate on the business services side.

  Only their sister, Katherine, the youngest of the four siblings, didn’t enter the family business. Though she held a degree in political science, the free-spirited Kat was pursuing a degree in interior design at FIT, the Fashion Institute of Technology.

  Once again Jarred scanned the numbers and sighed. “I’m convinced that I’m being punished for something,” he groaned. Yes, that had to be it. Why else would he be stuck in the office well past business hours, working on this nightmare of a venture called Tempest? He grumbled, frustrated with everything about his new duties.

  There were a rapid three knocks on Jarred’s office door before it pushed open and his brother, Langston, walked in. What now? Jarred took a deep breath, sat up in his chair and ran his hand across his bearded face. He could tell from the stiff way that Langston moved, his appearance harried, not to mention the ferocious scowl on his face, that something or someone had him pissed.

  At six feet, Langston was an inch shorter than Jarred, and he was two years younger than his own thirty-four years of age. They shared the same strong jawline and thick brows that accentuated hazel eyes, but Langston kept his wavy hair close-cropped to his head, and sported little more than a five o’clock shadow, with a mustache he kept neatly trimmed.

  Jarred watched as his brother stormed across the plush carpet to one of the leather wingback chairs, then plopped down with a heavy sigh.

  “What’s wrong now?” Jarred asked, eyeing him closely. Langston was a rather easygoing guy, but it looked as if he hadn’t slept in a few days.

  “The question should be what is not wrong?” he responded sourly. “This acquisition is going to be the death of us all. Maybe we should have listened to Brice on this one. This is a huge headache times three.”

  Jarred knew exactly what headache his brother was referring to. Tempest.

  Josiah Tempest was a longtime friend of their father’s and had taught William Manning most of what he knew about the banking industry. Unfortunately, years later, Josiah’s failing health and poor management decisions had caught up with him, which now left the Manning brothers with a mess to clean up.

  “Where’s Brice?” Jarred asked, his voice sounding as tired as he was.

  “I haven’t a clue. Probably between the thighs of a beautiful woman, which is where we all should be, instead of in the office at nine o’clock on a Friday evening.”

  Jarred groaned, pushed back in his chair, linked his fingers behind his head, closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. “In the arms of a beautiful woman seems to be a thing of the past. At least until we get some semblance of control over the situation with Tempest,” he said, opening his eyes and looking at his brother.

  “I can see why Tempest’s sons decided to become doctors. Their father is great at giving business advice and helping others, but he sure as hell didn’t apply any of that knowledge to his own corporate dealings.”

  “You’re right about that. To be fair, everything was running well for a long while. I can’t point my finger to exactly where it all began to unravel, other than when he took ill. But I still say something else had to have been happening on the inside. We need Brice to bring us up to speed on the most recent financials. The ones I’m looking at now are horrid.” Jarred ran his hands across his face once more. Work had always given him a sense of fulfillment, but now he just felt burdened by it all. He needed something different. What, he wasn’t sure. And he had no time to figure it out.

  Langston’s reply caught his attention. “Well, good luck with that. Brice told Dad from the very start not to take over this business. Not only did Dad not listen to him, but he went off and retired to some faraway place.” He threw up his hands in frustration.

  “Please, don’t get me started on that.” Jarred snorted. “Dad hadn’t lived in his hometown since he was a kid, and then boom, he suddenly got a ‘hankering’ to return.” He shook his head and rested it against his chair again.

  Jarred could feel Langston eyeing him. “You’re unusually quiet. What’s wrong?”

  He pinned his brother with a look. “How am I quiet if I’m talking to you?”

  “You know what I mean. No ranting?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been venting all week. Trust me, it hasn’t been pretty. Shelley has suddenly decided to take a leave of absence,” Jarred grunted. Shelley, his assistant, had been working for him for only a short time, but had worked for Manning Enterprises for a few years.

  Langston chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

  “Apparently.”

  “You’re not exactly known for your decorum, Jarred. I’m surprised she hasn’t left sooner. I hope you know she’s probably looking for another position.” Langston chuckled again.

  “Brice slept with her. I’m sure of it. Shelley’s pissed because according to her, ‘He’s ignoring me,’” Jarred mimicked, and then scowled. He haphazardly moved things around on his desk. Still annoyed, he tossed a single piece of paper across the top. It landed on the floor, which sent Langston into a fit of laughter.

  “Now that’s more like the Jarred I know.”

  “What am I supposed to do, Langston? I’m his brother, not his damn keeper. Although at the rate he’s going, he clearly needs a caretaker or something.”

  Brice was a serial dater. His nonchalant ways with women were surely going to come back to haunt him one day. Jarred didn’t think his baby brother had ever been in a serious relationship, though there was that one time after college when Brice had been unusually snarly and impossible to live with. Jarred assumed a woman was the reason. At their parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, Brice had brought one woman to the party, left and come back with another. That little stint hadn’t gone over well with their mother. Delores “Dee” Manning had read Brice the riot act. Brice had looked contrite and vowed never to disrespect the family like that again. His brother still dated a lot of women, he just never brought them around the family, and, as he put it, never to his place.

  Langston leaned back in his chair. “Brice swears he’s never slept with Shelley. Only took her out a few times. She wanted a relationship, and according to our brother, that was out of the question. I keep telling him that if he continues to play with women like this, it’s going to come back and bite him on the ass.” Langston took a deep breath. “We both need a break from here for a little while. You’re just so wrapped up in this business you can’t see the forest for the trees. All of it will be here on Monday, ready and waiting for us. Let’s go somewhere where there’s good food, live entertainment and relaxation.”

  “And wher
e would that be?” Jarred furrowed his brow, and a huge smile covered Langston’s face.

  “What?” Jarred questioned.

  “I know this great spot. It’s in Jersey and it’s perfect! Each night there’s something different going on—from spoken word, to live bands, to solo artists, you name it. A classy place, too. A relaxing atmosphere all around,” Langston said.

  “The last time you took me to a place that supposedly had a nice atmosphere, I was looking for someone to hand me some flowers and a pamphlet, and point me to a cabbage, claiming it to be the Chosen One,” Jarred mocked, rolling his eyes and making a face.

  “It was a retreat that focused on getting in touch with oneself. Everyone hugged. It was supposedly a way of being respectful and free.” Langston chuckled. “Besides, I was in college, bro. Different values and ideals back then,” he explained. “You’re never going to let me forget it, are you?”

  “No, never.” Jarred glared at him. In retrospect, the place really wasn’t that bad; he just liked to give his brother a hard time. Although back then he really did think Langston was into some kind of cult. No doubt thanks to that girl he was dating, who was, in Jarred’s opinion, weird.

  “Come on, Jarred, it will be good for you to get away from this office. When was the last time you went out and had fun? I know you don’t like the club scene, but you need to get free from this place for a while. The only thing you do is work. As a matter of fact, when was the last time you went out on a date?”

  “I’ve gone out on dates, Langston,” he grumbled, lowering his head to avoid eye contact. The truth of the matter was ever since his ex-fiancée, Lainey, ran out on him and eloped with someone he thought was a close friend, Jarred hadn’t any trust in the opposite sex. That was two years ago. The sting of betrayal still lingered.

  Jarred and Lainey had dated on and off all through college. They’d parted when Lainey went abroad for her graduate studies and he had gone on to law school, but then reconnected upon her return to the States. To him it was as if they’d never separated. They got engaged and were planning a life together. He thought they had the same aspirations for their future. Evidently not, he found out, when Lainey left him with an empty house and a brief note. Apparently she was in love with their mutual friend Braxton—the man she eloped with.

  “Snap out of it, Jarred,” Langston said, no doubt seeing him lapse into a trip down memory lane. “You get an itch, you scratch it and then move on. Since Lainey left, you’ve never gone out with the same woman twice. Anyway, this is not about dating—it’s about you not running yourself into the ground with work. Take a break,” he pleaded. “I promise this place is great, and you’ll have a good time.”

  “How did you find it?”

  “Brice,” Langston murmured, and lowered his head.

  “Hell, no!” Jarred said emphatically. “I know you didn’t just try to convince me to go somewhere based on our brother’s recommendation.”

  “It’s not his recommendation. I’ve been there and it’s cool. Trust me.”

  Jarred sighed heavily. He really didn’t feel like being bothered tonight. He would’ve preferred a hot meal, some relaxing jazz music and maybe catching a basketball game on television.

  “If this is one of those touchy-feely places, I’m going to kick your ass,” Jarred said.

  “You and what army are going to kick my ass?” Langston sniffed.

  “The army of left and right,” Jarred said, balling his hands into fists and lifting them one at a time.

  “Whatever. Lock up. I’ll meet you at the elevators downstairs. I need to collect my briefcase and jacket.” Langston stood and walked to the door.

  “I’m going to give Brice a call before I leave, so give me about ten to fifteen minutes.” Jarred settled back in his chair.

  “Doubt if you’ll be able to reach him, but will do.” Langston stepped out of the office.

  Jarred watched the door close behind him and then took out his cell phone and dialed Brice’s number. The phone rang three times before his brother answered, with a barked, “Hello.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Jarred asked, irritated. “You were supposed to be in the office.”

  “Who says I wasn’t? What do you want?” Brice huffed. It seemed as if he didn’t want to be bothered.

  “If you can snatch yourself away from whatever or whoever it is that has you over the top, Langston and I are going to some spot that you took him to in Jersey.”

  “Heavens?”

  “Heavens what?” Jarred asked.

  “That’s the name of the lounge—Heavens. What time are you leaving?”

  “We’re out of here in about fifteen minutes.”

  Before Jarred could say another word, Brice tersely said goodbye and hung up.

  I’m going to choke the daylights out of him one day, Jarred thought as he gathered up his belongings. He made sure to also collect the Tempest documents. He had endless hours of work ahead of him, but Langston was right. It was a Friday night, and Jarred was long overdue to let loose. Sure, he had the occasional romp, so to speak, but most of his dating for the past two years was to appease his bruised ego over his failed relationship. It had been a while since he’d just hung out and enjoyed a night out with the guys. He wasn’t in favor of the bar scene much anymore. He’d been there, done that in college. Now he needed a place to just sit back and relax and not worry about expectations from anyone.

  Jarred locked the office, then took the elevator down to the ground floor, where Langston was waiting.

  “Are we taking your car or mine?” his brother asked.

  Jarred shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Well, look who has decided to join us.” Langston smiled.

  Jarred glanced over his shoulder and saw Brice coming through the door of the stairwell, appearing out of sorts. The jacket of his dark Armani suit and his tie were hanging over his shoulder. He looked like he’d sounded on the phone: miserable. Brice had inherited their mother’s silver-gray eyes, and his complexion was a shade darker than Jarred and Langston’s honey-wheat skin tones. His rumpled appearance only confirmed to Jarred that all three of them were at their wits’ end.

  “I’m taking my own ride. I may leave with company, so I’ll meet you two there,” Brice said as he walked past them.

  “Where are you coming from?” Jarred arched a brow at his baby brother. Brice had led him to believe that he’d been in the office, but not that he was still present.

  “IT department. I told you I was here,” Brice replied.

  “What were you doing in IT?” Langston asked.

  Brice stopped, turned around and glared at them. “Working. Now, are we going to Heavens or not?”

  “Yes, but what has you in such a foul mood?” Langston inquired.

  “I’m not in a foul mood. I’m in a bad mood, plain and simple. So, are we going or am I to find my entertainment elsewhere?”

  “By all means, bro, let’s ride.” Langston gestured toward their parked vehicles.

  “I’m just warning you two. The minute somebody hands me one of those ‘get in touch with your inner self’ pamphlets, I am kicking both of your asses,” Jarred interjected, pointing at his brothers.

  “You might whip Langston, but you ain’t beating me,” Brice snorted.

  Jarred playfully punched his shoulder. “You may be taller than me and Langston, but I can still drop you, baby bro. Don’t let me school you out here in these streets.”

  “Man, listen to you trying to act hard. Dude, we grew up in the suburbs,” Brice retorted, and sent them all into a fit of laughter.

  “How far away is this place?” Jarred rounded the car to the passenger door.

  “About forty-five minutes to an hour, depending on traffic,” Langston said.

 
Jarred climbed into the passenger seat, put his briefcase on the floor in front of him and sighed deeply. He loved his brothers, but they drove him crazy.

  The smooth sound of Kenny G was playing through the surround sound. Yes. Jarred rested his head back and relaxed to the flawless notes the saxophone belted out.

  Copyright © 2017 by Letricia Gortman

  ISBN-13: 9781488013591

  The Only One for Me

  Copyright © 2017 by Bridget Anderson

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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