Livin' Ain't Easy

Book 0: CADS

by Peron Long

Genres: African American; African American Urban

Synopsis

Livin Ain't Easy is a story of self-evaluation, heartache, and renewal-all wrapped up in suspense and murder. The story chronicles approximately seven months of the lives of Devlin Carter and Simone Jackson. Devlin is a 32-year-old former schoolteacher whose development of a line of educational tools has made him a very wealthy man. His dreams in life had basically been to teach and to help students achieve their maximum potential. He also wanted to be able to provide the finer things in life for his grandmother, who raised him, and for Leslie, the love of his life. Sadly, his grandmother died five years before his financial achievements, and Leslie couldn't wait around for him to become successful. She married another man for his money. In spite of her marriage, though, Leslie has heard of Devlin's new wealth and she's trying to keep their on-again, off-again affair alive. Simone Jackson is a 31-year-old local television talk show host whose show is in the verge of going national. She is happy about the success she has accomplished in broadcasting, but her dreams of love of and for a man have been nonexistent, due to her sexual orientation. Since her first experience in college ten years earlier, she has lived the life of a lesbian. She is now at a crossroads in her life. She is no longer happy with her personal choices, and when she meets a future guest on her show, Devlin Carter, her interest in him creates feelings she had only dreamed of in the past. At the same time, she's looking to end the relationship with her lover, Trinity. When Devlin and Simone meet the day his best friend dies, she immediately becomes the friend that he needs, and he becomes the dream she'swished to have for years. As they begin to form a bond, they are both confronted with issues of overbearing, vindictive ex-lovers, as well as the surprising emergence of Devlin's long-absent father. When an attempt is made on Devlin's life and then one of their ex-lovers ends up dead, will it rip them apart, or bring them closer together?

Release date: April 24, 2012

Publisher: Urban Renaissance

Print pages: 304

Sample

When my eyes opened, I suddenly felt nervous. I was naked, and there was a naked woman beside me. I did not remember who she was. As I began to move around, she did too. I could still smell a slight hint of her perfume, and there was only one woman I knew who wore it: Leslie.

I looked over at the clock that sat on my dresser across the room. 3:00 A.M. it read in big red numbers that illuminated the dark room. I replayed the entire evening in my head, but all I could remember was getting drunk then having an argument with her.

My mouth was dry, so I headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water. As the cold water refreshed my parched throat, I suddenly heard Leslie yell from my room.

“Goddamn it, why the hell didn’t you wake me up?” She turned on the lamp beside my bed.

“I just woke up myself,” I replied dryly as I walked back to my room.

I climbed back in my bed just as she emerged from it, scrambling to collect all of her things. She reached for her pocketbook, grabbed her phone, and checked her voice mail.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she said softly to herself. “I can’t believe let you let me fall asleep.”

I didn’t respond. To be honest, I could not remember what led either one of us into my bedroom. The last thing I remembered was the two of us sitting in my living room arguing while I took shot after shot of Crown Royal.

As I lay in my bed thinking about the past several hours, Leslie walked into the bathroom carrying all her belongings. In less than fifteen minutes, she came out looking exactly as she did when she arrived to my house the evening before.

“Bye,” was all she said as she walked out of the room and out of my house.

After getting up and locking the door, I climbed back in bed and tried to replay as much of the events of the past ten hours as I could. Before any thoughts could form, sleep invaded my body once more.

I did not wake up until almost noon. I was somewhat frustrated because for the third time that month, I did not make it to church. I had made a promise to my grandmother that I would do my best to attend as often as I could.

“Don’t you turn your back on the Lawd because things are going good for you,” I could hear her voice echoing in my mind. “As quickly as God bless you with the things He gives you, He could take away just as fast.”

Instead, I showered and headed to the grocery store to find something for dinner. On my way back home, my cell phone began to sing the assigned song telling me who was calling.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“We need to talk,” Leslie said after a brief silence.

“We did that last night. Remember?”

I was really becoming irritated with all these “talks” that we had been having. They always seemed to end with us arguing, then having sex.

“Devlin,” she started. “I know I’ve put you through some aggravating moments over the past few years, but I need you to know that it was never my intent to hurt you in any way. Lately I find myself thinking about you more than ever when we are not together, and when we are together I completely forget everything else that’s going on in my life.”

“Like your husband?” I asked, interrupting her.

“Yes,” Leslie said softly, almost whispering.

Suddenly the night before replayed vividly. I remembered her asking me if I would take her back if she left her husband, Thomas. I remembered explaining to her that for five years, that’s all she had been saying she was going to do, yet she was there with him.

I had even admitted to her that there was a time that I would have jumped at the chance for us to be together again. I honestly had a strong love for her, but now things were much different and the way I view her had changed tremendously.

Leslie and I met about six years ago at a cookout. I was immediately attracted to her. She wore her hair short and in natural waves. She was about five feet five and had a seriously toned body. Her skin was the color of a Hershey bar and her lips were full and luscious. I wanted her, and when our eyes met, I knew that she wanted me too.

At the time, I was a single middle-school teacher who was always trying to develop new teaching techniques to help my kids. She was a paralegal looking to marry someone with money. After finding out what I did for a living, and how little I made, she quickly moved me into the “friends” category, a place I stayed until she met and later married Thomas E. Jones III, attorney-at-law.

She would often call me and complain about how life with him was boring and the sex was horrible. I joked with her about being able to give her what she needed sexually. After months of filling her head with my desires, we began a sexual relationship that extended from the time she said yes to his marriage proposal until the present.

For five years, I fooled myself that our relationship was perfect because it was strictly sexual with no emotional ties. I tried convincing myself that a relationship like this was convenient and necessary.

Things changed when I quit my job teaching after eight years. I decided to devote my time to developing and selling educational products. I told myself that the situation with Leslie was perfect; I had someone to spend time with, and when I needed time to take care of business, I didn’t have to worry about taking time away from my loved ones.

What took seven years to create and market had finally become a huge success. In the last six months my products made me a very wealthy, but still single, man. In addition, success brought relatives I never knew, friends I never had, and a love that suddenly wanted to be with me and me only.

It had taken me months, but I finally realized that the only true reason that she would leave him for me now was the sure fact that I could afford her.

“I love you,” Leslie said, breaking into my thoughts.

“Leslie ...” I paused for a few moments to gather myself. “I would be a liar if I told you that I didn’t love you, because I do and I always will. But I am now realizing that just because I love you, doesn’t mean that I have to be with you.”

“Thomas just pulled up,” she said after a brief silence and hung up without saying good-bye.

I pulled into my driveway and sat in my car for a few moments in deep thought. I asked myself if I truly loved her the way I thought I did, or was I in love with the convenience that came with her. She provided the physical satisfaction I craved, but I knew she could never offer me much more than that. I needed a woman that would be with me through any situation. After seeing how quickly she would leave her husband, after all of these years I sat in wait, I knew she could not be the type of woman I needed.

Walking into my house still wandering in my thoughts, I realized that my dealings with Leslie had cheated me out of several opportunities to be with women who would love me the way I desired. I wasted years hoping that one day she would be mine. I wasted years wishing that she would accept me for who I was. I spent years hoping that one day she would look beyond materialistic desires. But she never did, and now I felt like a fool for believing that she ever would. I was crazy to believe that she could.

I placed my groceries on the kitchen counter and walked back into my living room, where I sat on my couch. Leslie was not good for me. Continuing to deal with her would only lead to more heartache and pain. Even so, my heart still craved her. I still desired her.

When I was a little girl, I used to fantasize about being rich and famous. I remember when I first saw Oprah Winfrey at the age of twelve and I would dream of one day taking her place. I dreamed of having my own Stedman, but unlike Oprah, I would marry him and have three kids. We would live the perfect life together and be one big, happy family. Now I was in my early thirties, and although part of my dream was a reality, the part I desired the most was still a dream. A dream that, due to my current situation, may never be a reality.

For the past three years, my talk show had been a local hit and a leader of its time slot. After months of being flirted by a couple of major networks, we were taking An Afternoon with Simone Jackson nationwide.

I was excited but at the same time terrified to death. Losing your privacy is the cost of fame, something I had been able to protect for years. I never understood why so many people seemed to care so much about my personal life.

I never thought I would be the interest of so many people in a small market like Charlotte, North Carolina. When I arrived here in the mid-nineties, I was a reporter for one of the major news stations and before I knew it, I had my own weekly segment interviewing local people of interest. Then the talk show and all the sudden inquiries into my personal life.

The executive producer of my show—and my mentor—Suzette Jennings, would always ask me when I planned to settle down, and my only reply to her would be “one day.” The truth was that I was already in a committed situation. I believed that my personal life outside of the show was mine to do damn well as I pleased. Whose business was it what I did? I was a grown-ass woman with the ability to do any and everything I desired.

Nevertheless, even though I felt settled, I still found myself sad and unhappy with my choice. I often found myself wondering whether I chose this life, or it chose me only to not let me go.

Most Sunday mornings I usually spent evaluating my life. Sundays were the only days I had for me and me alone. I stopped going to church years ago because every time I was there, the pastor made damn sure to remind me constantly that I was a sinner and that I was going to go to hell because of my sins. I got enough of that from my mother, who felt it was her mission to call me a thousand times a week to remind me of my sins.

“I don’t care how much money and fame you get, your soul is going to burn in hell,” she would always tell me. “You need to pray and ask God to deliver you.”

I grew up in a small town in Alabama called Union Springs, about an hour outside of Montgomery. As a child, I was not exposed to much of anything except school and church. My father was a Baptist preacher, my mother was a teacher, and I was their one and only daughter.

My parents, mainly my mother, always stressed the importance of receiving an education, getting married, and having plenty of children—something they were unable to do after I was born. My mother truly thrived on tradition.

“When you find a good man like Steven, you hold on to him for life. Just like I did with your father,” she would often tell me.

Steven Cole was the only boy my parents allowed me to date in high school. He was the son of one of the deacons at the church where my father was the pastor, and the love of my life until I was twenty-one.

After graduating high school, we both attended Auburn University in nearby Montgomery. Steven was a star basketball player, and I was his quiet, unsuspecting virgin and naive girlfriend.

My first year in college provided me with freedom from my parents, something I never thought I would have. It also gave me insight to things I had never before seen or experienced. To say that it was life-altering would be an understatement. There were so many things that I never knew existed in life. I love my parents with all my heart and I always believed they were excellent parents, but their decision to shelter me from the world hindered my growth.

My roommate, Carmen Rinehart, a slender, blond, blue-eyed girl from southern California, had a lifestyle that, up until meeting her, I had never been exposed to. One day, after spending hours in the school library working on a term paper, I came back into our dark room. She often stayed away, so I assumed she was not there. When I turned the light on, I saw her and one of her girlfriends lying across the bed, naked and asleep. I was so startled that I dropped everything I was carrying onto the floor, making so much noise that both of them jumped up.

Carmen initially looked embarrassed, but her friend gave me a sly smile followed by a long and seductive stare.

“If you are curious, I will be more than willing to ease that curiosity for you,” she said before she grabbed her clothes and went into our bathroom.

I had never been so nervous in all my life. I remembered my heart pounding so hard it felt as if it were going to jump out of my chest and run away.

Carmen grabbed her robe and walked over to me as she wrapped her robe around her slender body.

“Simone ...” She paused as if she was trying to find the right words to say. “I did not mean for you to see us like this. She’s usually gone before you come in, but I guess we were both tired and fell asleep.”

I was speechless and in shock. After regaining the feelings in my legs, I walked toward my bed and sat down. As I sat on my bed with trembling hands, Carmen’s friend came out of the bathroom. Carmen walked her to the door and they gave each other the most passionate kiss I had ever seen two people give each other in all my life. Once they separated from one another, Carmen’s friend looked at me.

“I loves me some chocolate,” she said, then winked at me and walked out the door as my heart began to pound again.

I had heard of lesbians before, but until then I had never actually known one. I was afraid to sleep at all that night. I kept wondering if Carmen would try to do anything to me while I slept.

When I finally got out of bed the next morning, I noticed that Carmen was gone. I immediately called Steven to tell him what had happened.

“Get out!” he yelled. “So did you watch them?”

“No, I didn’t watch them!” I shouted.

For some reason, that question annoyed the hell out of me. Why would he even think that I would want to see that? I had never seen a woman’s naked body before, other than in movies, in all my life.

After hanging up with Steven, I showered and headed to class. But the entire day, the only thing that was on my mind was the image of Carmen and her friend kissing. The passion they had was something that seemed so unreal. As often as Steven and I kissed, I don’t think that either one of us had ever shown that much passion before.

Later that evening, instead of going to the library, I decided to study in my room. Af. . .