ZANE PRESENTS
NOTHING
STAYS THE SAME
Dear Reader:
It is my pleasure to present Nothing Stays the Same, the dramatic sequel to Ex-Terminator: Life After Marriage, which centered around the hot topic of divorce.
It is a peek three years later at the lives of Marvin Thomas; his wife, Rachel; and their friends. They’ve left divorce court and are now living in the world of high society...but the good life doesn’t last forever.
Readers will relate to the world of a man fighting to save his profitable electronics firm during a failing economy. Not only does he struggle to save his company but his family, home and friends...a sign of today’s turbulent times.
Author Suzetta Perkins, now with her fifth novel, has established herself as a provocative, engaging novelist of the new millennium.
Thanks for supporting the work of Suzetta Perkins, one of my authors under Strebor Books. I appreciate you giving this book a chance and if you enjoy it, I hope that you will read Suzettaa’s other books: Behind the Veil, A Love So Deep, Ex-Terminator: Life After Marriage and Déjà Vu.
Peace and Many Blessings,
Zane
Publisher
Strebor Books International
www.simonandschuster.com/streborbooks
ALSO BY SUZETTA PERKINS
Déjà Vu
Ex-Terminator
A Love So Deep
Behind the Veil
ZANE PRESENTS
NOTHING
STAYS THE SAME
Suzetta Perkins
Strebor Books
P.O. Box 6505
Largo, MD 20792
http://www.streborbooks.com
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2010 by Suzetta Perkins
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.
ISBN 978-1-59309-286-3
eISBN 978-1-4391-6879-0
LCCN 2009942986
First Strebor Books trade paperback edition March 2010
Cover design: www.mariondesigns.com
Cover photograph: © Keith Saunders/Marion Designs
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Manufactured in the United States of America
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DEDICATION
To my husband, Jerry
Although we’re not together, I still love you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I can’t believe this is book number five. God is awesome.
I believe I understand the meaning of the words Michael Jackson sang when he said, you are not alone. I know that my writing career hasn’t been by happenstance and I could not have done it alone. The many faces, new and old, I’ve met throughout my travels across the country...the faces of people who’ve embraced my work; given me encouragement and said continue to write those stories of hope and faith, betrayal and redemption; told me how much EX-Terminator helped them to heal or move forward with their lives, who told me that A Love So Deep prepared them for transitional love, unconditional love, love they were not deserving of; told me I needed a sequel for Behind the Veil and rushed out to buy Déjà Vu when it was released and told others about it because it was a doggone good story...those faces have carried me. And it is because of you I write. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the countless emails and letters of support. And a special thank you to the wonderful friends in my life, who’ve stood by my side and made my dream worth living.
As always, my family has been there—through the thick and thin, loving, supporting, inspiring, and promoting me in every way they knew how. From my dad, Calvin Sr., who devoured Déjà Vu in practically one sitting and rendering a verdict of GOOD BOOK, to my children, Teliza and Gerald Jr. (JR), who hustle my work as hard as I do—I love you. To all my family members who’ve supported me—especially my niece, Candace, who paraded me all over Facebook, along with my son, JR, thanks a million.
Zane, thank you for continuing to believe in my abilities as a writer. Strebor Books/Simon and Schuster have meant so much to me because they gave me the opportunity to showcase my talent. I will never forget. And thank you Charmaine, for being there every step of the way, helping me to make deadlines or facilitate book signings. And to Keith of Marion Designs, thank you so much for my outstanding book covers. Smooches.
To Maxine Thompson, my agent, I never would have made it without you. Not only do you represent me well, you take out time to promote. Thank you for the airtime on ArtistFirst and allowing me to connect with readers everywhere.
To LaTricia Smith and Jackie Thomas, thank you for giving me an opportunity to showcase my work on your blog radio show Off the Pages. It was great being your first guest.
To Edrina Bailey, an avid supporter and my reader, thank you for giving me your honest opinion and feedback. I’ve trusted your judgment from day one—your straight-from-the-hip critiques. It’s only made me better.
My heartfelt love and thanks goes out to Alberta Lampkins, Melvin Lewis, and Althea Boone (Black Pearl’s Book Club) for loving and celebrating a sistah, so much so that you helped to place me in positions to share with others. For that, I’m deeply grateful.
To the countless book clubs and readers that I’ve been privileged to meet, thank you for being a part of my experience. And because of you, I have never been alone on this journey. It is my prayer that I continue to write stories that you can touch and feel, with my own brand of seasoning, that will inspire, console, make you laugh, or maybe make you cry, and with an added pinch of the right spice make those stories hot or sizzle just a little.
Now sit back, relax, and ready yourself for another good read in Nothing Stays the Same. Being on top of the world is great, but a fall to the bottom can be disastrous—you know the story of Humpty Dumpty who couldn’t be put back together again, especially in these economic times. There’s hope, though, as the story ends on the day Barack Obama is elected president. Blessings.
CHAPTER ONE
LANCASTER, BOSCHE, AND COLEMAN AT LAW was boldly engraved on a bronze plate outside the office with the double glass doors. Marvin Thomas touched his moustache and ran his hand over his head as he stared at the law firm’s name on the wall. This was the last place he wanted to be, but he was about to lose everything—his company, possibly his marriage, and for sure his sanity. A frizzy-haired blonde woman, wearing black, diamond-encrusted horn-rimmed glasses, who sat behind a maple desk, jerked her head upward when the glass door opened. Marvin walked through the foyer and stood in front of her.
“Good afternoon. My name is Marvin Thomas, and I have an appointment with Attorney Cecil Coleman.”
The receptionist ran her eyes over the handsome gentleman, who stood in front of her dressed in an expensive suit with manicured nails and eyes to die for. “Yes, Mr. Coleman is expecting you,” the receptionist said, her eyes steadily slicing and dicing. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Marvin said, ignoring her furtive glances while he continued to pace. He wrung his hands together and paced back and forth, t
ension etched in his face. Although there was a lot on his mind, Marvin didn’t fail to notice the open-air terrarium filled with a variety of exotic plants and a small brook running on a pump that traveled through it. Track lights extended from the ceiling overhead to help provide photosynthesis for the greenery. Marvin jerked around at the sound of his name and walked the few feet to greet Cecil Coleman.
Long, sinewy fingers grasped Marvin’s in a brotherly handshake that lasted twenty seconds. “Good to see you, Thomas. How long has it been—ten, fifteen years?”
“Ten years for sure since we finished undergrad.”
“Come on back so we can talk,” Coleman said. “Gretchen, hold my calls.”
“Yes, Mr. Coleman.”
Marvin followed the lanky-legged Cecil down a long corridor flanked on either side by offices until they reached an elevator. Although Marvin stood at six feet, two inches tall, Cecil had him by an inch. They both played basketball at Clark-Atlanta, however, neither was destined for star status.
They marched into the open elevator and Cecil pushed the button for the twenty-ninth floor, both gentlemen remaining quiet for the duration of the ride. The elevator boasted a panoramic view of the city and the ride up reminded Marvin of the first time he rode a Ferris wheel, his feet extending over a little bucket that lifted him high in the air. The elevator stopped, and they got off and walked a few feet to a carved oak door with CECIL COLEMAN, ATTORNEY AT LAW engraved on the plate.
Cecil’s office was massive. An expansive cherrywood desk stood in the middle of the room with a high-backed mahogany-colored Italian executive chair sitting behind it. A large cherrywood credenza and bookcase blanketed the back wall, and to the right of the desk was an extensive built-in library filled with law books, State of Georgia statutes, LexisNexis, and case studies of well-publicized business takeovers, mergers, you name it. To the left of the desk was an executive conference table that sat fifteen, with matching Italian leather chairs. With hands in his pocket, Marvin crossed the length of the office and looked out the window. Tall skyscrapers littered the Atlanta skyline, and Interstates 75 and 85 snaked through the city like runaway children.
Cecil stood back and smiled as his old friend admired his accomplishments—a corner office that was four-hundred and fifty-square feet on the twenty-ninth floor of one of the most prestigious law firms in Atlanta. He was a Princeton man; his finest hour was graduating with his Juris Doctorate. After grad school, he interned at a smaller law firm, and met and married the woman who completed him. She was also an attorney, having completed her law degree a couple of years earlier.
Marvin turned from the window and looked at Cecil, trying not to size him up, although the large Princeton class ring, and the diamond-encrusted Rolex that sat on the edge of the starched-white cuff of the Armani shirt made him take notice. “Nice.”
“Thanks,” Cecil said. “One of the perks of being partner. So what you’ve been up to?”
“Depends on where I start. After grad school, I worked for several software companies before starting my own. I don’t know if you remember my cousin Harold, but we started out as business partners. Due to a family crisis, he resigned. My new partner, Kenny Richmond—”
“Richmond...Kenny Richmond. That name sounds familiar.”
“Well, Kenny Richmond and I earned Fortune 500 status and have built a very lucrative business in the last three years. During all of that, I got married then divorced, but I’m now married to the most wonderful woman named Rachel. We have a two-year-old daughter named Serena, and she looks just like her father.” Marvin smiled.
“So you’re enjoying a life similar to mine,” Cecil said with a hint of jealousy in his voice. As if seeing Marvin for the first time, he gave him a once-over and was mildly surprised that his friend probably shopped at the same clothiers he did.
“Well, I’m not sitting on the twenty-ninth floor, but...until a few months ago, we were doing great.”
“Sit down, Marvin, and let’s talk about what brought you here today. On second thought, let’s go over to the conference table where we have more room. You want a drink?”
“No,” Marvin said, as he watched Cecil reveal a hidden bar that was housed in the middle of his library. Although it was not illegal to have a bar in the privacy of one’s office, it struck Marvin as strange because of constant reminders on television about our responsibility as law abiding citizens to not drink and drive. Maybe it was because Marvin no longer drank. Anyway, he was not here to condemn Cecil Coleman. This man was one of the best negotiators and business attorneys in the nation...the man who might save his life.
“So what can I do for you, Marvin?”
CHAPTER TWO
Rachel Thomas got up from the couch and walked to the entertainment center that held Sylvia’s family pictures. There were pictures of Sylvia, Kenny Sr., and Kenny Jr.; Kenny Sr. and Kenny Jr.; Kenny Jr. and his big sister, Maya; the whole Richmond clan including Sylvia’s mother; and Sylvia and Kenny’s wedding photo taken on a beach on what was a beautiful and sunny day in Jamaica.
Rachel picked up the picture of Kenny, Sylvia, and Kenny Jr. and stared at it. Kenny was tall, dark, and handsome, quite the contrast to Sylvia’s caramel frappuccino color. Baby fat still grabbed Sylvia’s curves, but the result was well worth the extra weight because Kenny Jr. had been a beautiful baby and would be more handsome than his father.
“Girl, can you believe that a little over three years have gone by since we were at Mona and Michael’s engagement party?” Rachel hollered into the kitchen where Sylvia was putting the final touches on Kenny Jr.’s extra birthday cake.
“And Adonis had the audacity to show up talking about he wanted his wife back...” Sylvia interjected.
“And your behind passed out cold on the floor...”
Rachel and Sylvia laughed at the memory. “Look, we can reminisce later,” Sylvia said. “Today is my baby’s birthday. I tell you, Kenny Jr. is as handsome as his dad.”
“And remember the look on my face, Sylvia, when you told me you were pregnant, and I didn’t even know that you and Kenny had done anything?”
“Rachel, you weren’t supposed to know everything. I believe we were feeling so bad about Ashley getting arrested for poisoning and killing William that I didn’t want to be alone, and the moment happened.”
“Yeah, right. Tell me anything, you crazy girl. I just know it messed up our plans to have a double wedding.”
“You didn’t need me and Kenny to double with you and Marvin. That day was meant just for the two of you. Rachel, you were so gorgeous in that Vera Wang gown. It looked beautiful against your cocoa brown skin. And I’ve never seen Marvin grin so much. He acted like someone who had just won the lottery.”
“’Cuz that man was happy, and so was I. When I looked into those hazel eyes of his and saw all the love staring back, girl, I couldn’t keep the tear well dry.”
“I remember, and so does everyone else who was at the church that day.”
“Sylvia, God finally blessed me with a real man, a true man—a God-fearing man. I don’t think I even deserved him.”
“I’ll tell you this one thing, Denise would have been right there to scoop Marvin up like a bowl of Raisin Bran if you hadn’t held on tight. Do you remember when Denise snatched her wig off at the Ex-Files meeting, talking about she had cancer?”
“Sylvia, she saved herself in the nick of time because I was about to kick her ass into the ground. Nobody asked her to tell us how she and Marvin got together and how they kissed in Times Square and all whatever else she did. Yick! Sickening. I just know Marvin got rid of her tail for sleeping with his cousin Harold. She was Marvin’s ex-wife, and I was going to see that she stayed that way.” They laughed again.
“I can’t believe Kenny came back into my life.”
“Me either,” Rachel quipped. Sylvia gave her a harsh look. “But me and Kenny are cool now,” Rachel quickly added, making the peace sign with her two fingers. “I really love the broth
er because he’s a changed brother who makes my sistah happy.”
“Who would have known that a pity party and quick stop at a grocery store was going to change my life forever?” Sylvia continued, ignoring Rachel’s antics. “I love me some Kenny Richmond.”
“Well, I’m sure it helped that the brother was still fine after all them years you all were apart, and he had a little bank roll to entice you.”
“Got that right. But look at you, Miss Rachel. Snagged your man at our first support group meeting. Telling that raggedy story of yours hooked and reeled your man in like a school of tuna caught in a fishing net. You were good—no, brilliant.”
“Yes, I was, but you know I was telling the truth about getting rid of my ex. That was the past. Now we’re married, our husbands are business partners, and we all have babies—me, you, Mona, and Claudette.”
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.
“That ain’t nobody but that crazy Mona,” Rachel said, “ringing the bell like she don’t have good sense.”
Sylvia laughed. “Let that child in. I’m going to the room and get Kenny Jr. and Serena.”
Rachel pulled the door open and smiled with glee. Mona and Claudette stood at the door, the biggest grins on their faces. “Girl, look at you,” Rachel said to Mona as she admired her dreadless hair. “No baby fat on you, and you look fabulous. Hi Michael Jr.”
Kiss, kiss. “And so do you, Mrs. Fortune Five Hundred,” Mona said in return, then turned to her son. “Tell Auntie Rachel hi.”
“Hi Aunie Rachel,” Michael Jr. said.
“And look at you, Ms. Claudette and little Miss Reagan,” Rachel continued. “You’re looking good in those matching kente outfits. Trying to get Reagan hooked on ethnic clothing since you couldn’t do it with Reebe,” she quipped to Claudette.
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