Unplugged

By Kaya

Shayla Tatum Devereaux, a successful black attorney, once thought that she could live her life according to plan. She found security and tranquility in the knowledge that nothing in her life was out of her control and she lived in a world of victory and determination based on the values her mother had concretely instilled in her. Until one day, she met Caleb Jordan. In midst of her childhood friends, she hid her first love. But, knowing that her mother would not accept Caleb into the family, she was strained to do what she had to do.

That is, until an architect immediately caught her into his rapture after their first encounter. Soon, Shayla Devereaux found herself spiraling in love again. Only this time, Malik Devereaux III wasnt something she could control and ended up in a marriage arrangement that even her friends couldnt accept. Despite the challenges, Shayla committed herself to their union. But, when Maliks deception landed on their doorstep, she abandoned her plan and was forced to learn the harsh lesson that many are not to be judged by their cover.

After all of the deceitfulness and lies, Shayla finds herself at a crossroad between making the necessary sacrifices or handing it all over to the unknown and living with the consequences of her unplanned decisions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 24, 2008
• ISBN: 9781462837182

Kaya

Kaya was born and raised in the Midwest, where she lives with her two young sons. She enjoys romantic movies and talking with her friends and family about God, life, and love. When she isn’t busy being a mother and a daydreaming enthusiast, she spends her time working in the renewable energy industry to better our planet.

Book preview

UNPLUGGED

Kaya

Copyright © 2008 by Kaya.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

TO HAVE AND TO HOLD

FOR RICHER OR POORER

FOR BETTER AND WORSE

IN SICKNESS AND IN . . . WEALTH

TO LOVE AND TO CHERISH

TO HONOR AND OBEY?

FROM THIS DAY FORWARD

IN GOOD TIMES AND BAD

ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE

TO LOVE, HONOR AND RESPECT

THIS IS MY SOLEMN VOW

TIL’ DEATH DO US PART

EPILOGUE

To those who read, discussed, truly believed in this book,

my potential, and encouraged me to push forward.

You know who you are.

Remember, nothing is impossible.

TO HAVE AND TO HOLD

Life is never what it seems.

Neither is it what you plan it to be, at least not what Shayla Janeese Tatum had set for her life. From childhood, she was raised to always have a plan. No matter what you did in life, have a plan. Sure, her mother and father accepted the fact that things seem to just happen sometimes. But, even in those cases, you have to have a plan that you stuck to and Shayla had followed this golden rule all the way into her 20’s. Even now, she was an accomplished woman; possessing a J.D. degree from Harvard Law and working as the only successful, black, female corporate and transactional attorney at one of the top law firms in Georgia as well bearing no children out of wedlock. She had made no mistakes in her perfect agenda: to be graduated from Texas A&M by age twenty-one, law school would be completed and she would have passed her bar exam by the age of twenty-four, then finally, she would be hired at the law firm of her choice, through which she had done her internship during her law school years. And, she would be married by twenty-six—no babies, of course, until after she hit twenty-eight. She at least wanted one solid year of marriage to be full of bliss, lots of love making and travel—opportunities for her to spread her wings and enjoy her well earned money.

But now, as she stood in the vaulted ceiling cathedral, her soon-to-be husband, Malik burning a hole into her dark brown puppy dog eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to say those two words before her, the guests and of course, God. Shayla was happy; she had been with Malik for the past three years. They met one day in a Barnes & Noble store. He was wearing a two piece, sleek Armani suit, although his jacket was off and hanging vagrantly off of the chair beside him as he drank chamomile tea and read through an Essence magazine reminding her of a 6'4 model of perfection. Her friends would tease her by calling him Onion because he was so fine he made their eyes tear up uncontrollably when Shayla first introduced him to her clique and he’d come around from time to time.

Her love was Haitian, Cuban and black and that combination came out to make him an extraordinarily handsome man. His skin was flawless, his cheekbones high and defined, his skin firm like leather—the complexion unmatched by any advanced tanning creams or machines. He had the most stunning smile that accentuated his almond shaped mahogany eyes. His hair was fine, but he always kept it in a blended fade—never letting it grow to show its natural curl. With both of their lovely attributes, she knew they would make the most beautiful babies.

Malik was a hot commodity because on top of his attractiveness, he was intelligent, driven and successful at all he set out to accomplish. He bore no children out of wedlock nor did he have any paternity cases on his hands. He was also a millionaire not just from his father’s company, but his own effort in the firm at the ripe age of twenty-eight which only added to his value. He was a savvy businessman and very exact in the way he carried himself with clients and acquaintances as he held business, accounting, engineering and architectural degrees as well as certifications and awards beyond measure. He was determined in reaching his educational goals and allowed nothing to distract him which attracted Shayla all the more to his charisma.

That day, Shayla had stopped in for a mug of relaxing chamomile tea as a break from her hectic morning interning at the firm—meeting Malik was one of those things that just happened. She didn’t plan on meeting any new men in her life since Caleb. But, Malik, 6'4 tall, smooth-skinned Malik Khenan Devereaux III wasn’t your ordinary occurrence. Nor was he anything she expected to run into. And by the time his hypnotizing, deep mahogany eyes met with her gaze and his full smooth lips curved slightly upward into an inviting grin, it had gone so far as to just happen that their naked bodies had discovered their own rhythmic beat by one o’clock that afternoon despite that the time on her tea receipt read twelve o’ five. Her voice was faintly hoarse from nearly screaming. She had never heard herself that loud before and the sheer thought of someone causing her to lose control was beyond her comprehension. She hadn’t made love to anyone else but her first and Malik left her wincing back into her office because he gave her walls a thorough pounding; leaving her dazed and tender.

That afternoon delight now had Shayla standing before a church filled with over three hundred people, mostly family from both sides and of course, friends and an entourage of co-workers. They had even flown Malik’s mother from her home in Cuba in addition to an assembly of his family all the way from Haiti to partake in their union. Of course, the Dr. Mrs. Tatum made it a point that their attire resembled nothing of their impoverished residence, which is why she arranged for the party of twenty to be met at the airport and taken directly to her favorite clothing stores and salons for immediate exterior upgrades. Shayla’s mother and coordinator had planned the absolute perfect wedding ceremony.

After all, the result reflected directly upon the mother and father-in-law on the daughter’s side and the Dr. Mrs. Tatum had to make the best impression, so spending nearly one million of her husband’s earnings as chief of the largest hospital in Atlanta—which was a penny out of his worth—didn’t make her flinch one bit. The Dr. Mrs. Tatum had even turned down generous offers from friends and members of Malik’s family to help fund the wedding. She wanted full acknowledgement and control; after all, this was all a part of the plan for her only child and she wanted them to look good for all the important people that were invited to the ceremony.

As Shayla stood in her tailor made lace and silk gown, holding a bouquet of white and crimson red fresh roses, she grew sick to her stomach as she saw flashes of her mother effortlessly swiping her American Express card and filling up tabs to the various esteemed establishments that made her wedding this elegant. She couldn’t disappoint them; she had to go through this even though her heart was telling her to wait. The church was quiet; she could faintly hear the jaybirds from outside, but they didn’t overshadow the pounding of her heart. Shayla heard her childhood pastor softly clear his throat to wake her out of her daze and she raised her eyes to look at him in his holy and blessed garb, the good Word sitting comfortably in his palms. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. She was asking for Reverend Dalton’s guidance in her head, but he could not hear—no one could hear her, she had gotten herself in this circumstance and was in this alone. Malik had persuaded her to deter marriage counseling; convincing her that they could work on their small problems with just the two of them and that he preferred to keep other people out of their business. She knew in her heart that the only thing that could settle her anxiety was them receiving counseling, but her soon-to-be husband had a way with manipulating a situation so that it catered to his liking and before she knew it, their engagement had quickly passed by.

Shay? she heard a soft, masculine voice call.

She looked into Malik’s eyes and stared at him. He had been a good man, was there through all their good and rough times. She had grown to love and adore him. He meant everything to her, but she also had grown to see that a lot of women had meaning to him. Granted, she was his heart, but many others had his body when they were apart. She had forgiven him because her mother loved him, her father respected him and her friends were envious of her for having him and she promised herself that she would never break her parents’ hearts. Above all, she knew that despite his infidelity, he truly loved only her. Shayla closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. She couldn’t walk away from this, it was her plan and she had to stick through it.

I . . . she looked into his eyes, searching for the certainty that this was real. His eyes began to turn damp; the clear film beginning to cover the brown windows to his soul. She could almost feel his nervousness due to her faltering, I . . . I-I do, she stuttered and heard a sigh of relief wave through the church.

She glanced at her mother who was sitting front and center, a huge grin on her face. She bowed her head slightly in congratulations. Shayla looked into Malik’s mahogany eyes and saw his relief and that made her heart smile inside, giving her a glimmer of hope that their marriage would go as planned despite all of the trials in their relationship.

6 Months Later

What amazes me is that you sit here and make excuses for him, Shay. I promise his behind would’ve hit the curb by now . . . hell, I wouldn’t have married him!

Cyn is right. You need to cut your losses and just confirm this marriage ova’ sistah girl because homeboy ain’t thinkin about you no more, he’s in this all for himself—been in it for himself from jump and, I, Miss Rhonda Jackson, wouldn’t go for that nonsense.

Shayla closed her eyes and began to rub her temples, calming herself. Lunch out with the ladies used to be a blast when she was an unmarried woman, but now since she has been hitched with a 2.5-carat and side diamond ring on her finger declaring so, Cynthia and Rhonda, her two closest friends, had been making her life pure hell. They were sitting in their favorite spot, on the patio and had ordered their usual. Cynthia, who was the tallest and oldest out the bunch, standing 5'11 and weighing close to 160lbs had a body that would make any man’s head turn around in circles. Despite her intimidating height, her layered bobbed-styled, cinnamon sprinkled hair made her caramel complexion gleam. She was beautiful—as they all were.

Rhonda was pushing twenty eight but looked as if she was heading on to her twentieth birthday. She was high yellow with a short auburn afro shaped to perfection. Her eyes were slanted where she would appear sleep from a distance and her body was in a petite 5'6 package. However, Shayla stood out among all three of them—as she had since their adolescence. She was 5'3 with shoulder length, brown sugar highlighted locs that were always styled to perfection. Her body was slender in all the right places and bold in all the necessary and most men flocked to her because she, unlike Rhonda who was loud and childish most times and Cynthia who was a snob a majority of the time, was sophisticated, yet down to earth which was a bullet along with her beauty.

Look, the two of you need to back off, Shayla finally said, I love Malik and he loves me. That’s all that matters. It’s not like he beats me upside the head . . . it’s just a tough situation and nothin’ is worth anything if you don’t have a struggle.

Cynthia and Rhonda exchanged glances and then turned to look at their friend, "I’m not sayin that you lovin’ him and him lovin’ you too ain’t all fine and dandy. But, as your momma would call you, Baby Shay, he’s cheatin on you—"

"Amen to that! Cynthia said in agreement, When was Malik ever faithful? When you first got together—oh wait, sorry, he was still with some chick after the two of you got together and been cheating ever since. That’s not right, Shay. You are too beautiful accomplished, and intelligent for that nonsense."

"And you got good credit!" Rhonda interjected as they laughed.

Shayla took in a deep breath, "We are gonna be alright. As long as he doesn’t bring any illegitimate kids or friends that like to burn ya’ to the table, I’m cool with it. He can have his little treats on the side because that’s all they are—it’s never anything serious, she said, I know what I want and I am gonna have it the way I want it once I’m ready to have children. Then, it’s no excuses. He’s gonna have to come at this marriage right. I refuse to bring a child into an environment where his or her father is havin’ other women on the side."

Cynthia raised her eyebrows, You can’t be serious. Are you that determined not to break your little perfect marriage plan that you’ll put up with this until it’s time to have kids?

"Right, cause I wouldn’t be cool with that. He needs to come at you right, right now. Not when it’s time for him to impregnate you. That’s the Dr. Mrs. Tatum talkin’—not the Shay we know and love," Rhonda replied.

Shayla stared at her, "I love my husband. But, I’m not gonna beg him to stop cheatin’. He keeps the women out of our relationship; he’s never brought home any diseases and he knows that it has to stop before I get pregnant. And on top of all that . . . everyone has some drama and finding a successful, black man nowadays that doesn’t have diseases all up and through his ass or non-stop paternity suits is hard to come by. Isn’t that enough for you two picky heifas?"

Cynthia and Rhonda glanced at one another and then looked at Shayla, Hell no! they both yelled in unison.

"I’m not gonna argue with you two. What’s done is done. I’m married and I’m not gonna get a divorce. You know I will try everything in my power to save my marriage if it gets to that point. But, damn, we just got hitched and ya’ll already gloom and doom on me," she replied.

Shay, why did you even marry him? We saw how you were strugglin’ at the altar. You told me yourself that it concerned you that ya’ll didn’t do pre-marital counselin’. C’mon now, your heart was makin’ you wanna run that day.

I was hesitant, but, she shrugged, I pushed myself through it. Malik is a good man—even with his faults, he’s a good man, she intentionally looked at Cynthia, "Nobody is perfect,. Ya’ll want this unblemished man and ya’ll shit ain’t together, her friends rolled their eyes, offended, but she continued, Ya’ll need to accept that you’ll never find anyone perfect—even with my life, it’s not at one hundred percent, she then looked at Rhonda, and Malik has his flaws just like I do—"

"No, he happens to be an attractive dawg with good credit and a bangin’ salary, Rhonda interjected before taking a bite of her steak and mashed potatoes, that’s why he has the pull he has with women, includin’ you."

What is it with you and good credit? That’s not the reason I’m with Malik—

"Hey, it ain’t everything, but it does matter to some degree. I know for me, cause I don’t have any established and I need someone who has established a positive payment history before I prance down that aisle," Rhonda replied, a grin on her face.

"And that’s why you are single and been single for the past two years. You need to learn how to stop bein’ so petty because money, credit and all that mumbo jumbo isn’t everything. I mean, how about tryin’ to love somebody for who they are, not what they can give you? Shayla asked, Besides you can fix bad credit but you can’t get back a good man if that’s the only reason you won’t be with him and he knows it."

Well, I don’t think that’s petty and I don’t care how long it takes to find that package so keep hanging in there, Cynthia encouraged, and don’t settle for anything less.

Now, see that’s comin’ from someone who ain’t had a man in almost four years, Shayla said, So go ahead and listen and you’ll be just like this lonely heifa’ over here.

At least my man won’t be cheatin’, Cynthia mumbled.

Shayla glared at her and made a scoffing noise before digging into her filet mignon. She had been craving this since they hadn’t had a ladies’ lunch for the past few weeks due to their schedules. Cynthia had already finished her salad and she sat there, disgustingly staring at their plates of meat. Rhonda caught a glimpse of her expression.

Girl, you better wipe that look off your face, she said with a mouthful of potatoes, before I make you eat a piece of this meat with your wanna be vegan self.

Shayla smirked as she chewed, "I don’t see how you eat that . . . that nasty, filth," Cynthia stated.

Cause it’s good, they both answered in unison and laughed.

It’s nasty—

So you shouldn’t mind eatin’ it because that describes you right there. Ya’ll should be best friends, Shayla said with a high five to Rhonda who was laughing.

Cynthia shifted in her seat and pulled off her prescription sunglasses, beginning to daintily wipe them with her handkerchief.

How long you been a vegan? Two days now? Rhonda instigated.

No, a week—

"Now you’re this food connoisseur, you know what exactly is in everything, right?" she further instigated.

Cynthia rolled her eyes, What are you getting at, Rhonda Jackson, she said in her most proper tone as she dabbed Chanel No. 5 onto her neck to refresh her scent.

Rhonda rolled her eyes this time, "Get that fake bourgeois attitude outta here Cyn. We ain’t at work right now, so we can be ourselves and you ain’t that proper."

Your little campus bookstore job doesn’t compare to mine as Director of Marketing, so hush it, Cynthia snapped.

Shayla laughed as she chewed the last bite of her meal. Even though her girls knew how to push her buttons beyond belief, she loved being around them. They were like blood and growing up with them from childhood to adulthood was nothing less than exciting. They meant a lot to each other, despite their occasional shouting matches, arguments, or when they were teens, knock out drag out fights. It was all just an addition to their equation as long lost sisters in spirit. As the waitress sat their separate bills on the table, Shayla immediately pulled out her credit card to give her before she exited. Her eyes scanned briefly around the restaurant as she drank the last from her champagne glass and brown eyes were found staring intently at her from across the room. For a moment, she was paralyzed and spilled drops of the white wine onto her cream, silk top. She quickly sat her glass down and began to wipe her chest and chin, her friends noticing her disarray.

Girl, you got a hole in your mouth? Rhonda asked.

N-no, no, just—just had a little accident. I must’ve been drinkin’ too fast, she stuttered, blushing, laughing nervously and glancing back at the too-fine-to-be-real man in the far left corner of the patio.

They followed her gaze, their eyes opening wide as Rhonda nudged Cynthia with her elbow.

"Girl, he is fine. You know him or somethin’ cause he’s starin over here like he just screwed you five ways from Sunday," Rhonda questioned.

Shayla’s eyes opened wide in shock of her volume and Cynthia hissed at her, Shut your loud self up!

The Brian J. White look-alike stood to show them a solid 5'11 Vin Diesel body with a slight grin on his face as he pulled on his black Dolce & Gabbana suit jacket. He stroked his short curly hair which blended perfectly into his caramel toned complexion and picked up his Blackberry, sliding it into his breast pocket. Shayla stared in his direction and she could hear Rhonda making comments of the man’s physique and handsome face. His eyes never left their 5'3 friend’s gaze until he exited the room.

Rhonda sat back and sighed, fanning herself, "Girl, I don’t know about you, but I seriously had a moment with that man . . . ohhwee! He is fine! And he had the eyes for you Ms. Tatum."

"It’s Mrs. Tatum-Devereaux, thank you," she corrected with a snap of her neck as she fanned her diamond in their direction.

Cynthia sat there, quietly, in her own world. Her gaze intense and focused. Rhonda looked at Shayla as if she had gone mad, You seriously wouldn’t talk to that brotha’ if he came up to you? she asked, He looked like he stepped out of a GQ magazine.

"I am married; one of ya’ll try to get at him. Not me. I made a promise before God."

No, God made a promise to make that man fine as hell and, He kept it. He was lookin’ like a fresh piece of sirloin steak and I got my utensils ready to gobble him right on down!

Rhonda, be serious for once, Shayla stated.

"I am. He was lookin’ at you. Plus, he’s way too fine for me and Cyn definitely wouldn’t be his type with her stank attitude. You always get the fine ones, so that’s right up your alley."

I’m sure he’d go for one of you, Shayla encouraged, eyeballing her wedding set.

Shay, I wish you had slept with somebody else other than Malik cause you are whipped! Rhonda exclaimed, disappointed, maybe you’d notice how fine that man is over there if you had.

Girl, leave me alone, Shayla said, not wanting to think about old skeletons. Even though they were all close, they didn’t know every dirty detail about her.

Shayla noticed Cynthia staring at her with a questionable expression.

What? Shayla asked and her friend looked away with a soft clearing of the throat; no response, I promise, you two are showin’ out today, she said, irritated.

Rhonda nudged Cynthia, Why you over there zoned out while you supposed to be helpin’ me cure this heifa!

Cynthia glared at her, Don’t worry about why I’m quiet! He just looked familiar, that’s all and I’m trying to remember where I’ve seen him before, Ms. Nosey!

"Girl, probably at one of your bourgeoisie functions. But, anyway, he was foine and I think you should go for it, Shay," Rhonda said.

"I am faithful . . . . no way around that.