Jaylin

by Brenda Hampton

  JAYLIN:

  A NAUGHTY AFTERMATH

  Brenda Hampton

  Jaylin Rogers

  Brenda Hampton Entertainment

  P.O. Box 773

  Bridgeton, MO 63044

  Jaylin: A Naughty Aftermath

  Copyright © 2016 Brenda Hampton

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

  Printed in the United States of America

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  To the readers who have taken this long journey with us . . . thank you for all the Naughty support. I’m in awe.

  To my Naughty Angels (you phenomenal women know who you are) thanks for loving me as is. Love you back, and I do miss you all.

  To Miss Author for creating this masterful series, allowing me to run with it, and for a special friendship that I had no idea would evolve like this. Thanks. I love you.

  To my wife—love you always.

  J. J. R.

  JAYLIN

  The word was change. Everybody wanted me to be a changed man, but when all was said and done, fuck what anyone else wanted. What mattered in my life was what I wanted. What my heart desired, and as of today, my heart was still where it had always been. That was with Nokea. Unfortunately, though, her heart wasn’t with me. It was on another journey—had taken a different path. Per my own request, she had taken the steering wheel away from me and started to drive her own life. During that time, she met a man, Dr. Travis L. Cooper, who somehow or someway managed to sweep her off her feet. There was no question that Nokea had been swept off her feet before, but this time was different. This time, she wasn’t in a relationship to seek revenge against me. She wasn’t doing this to hurt me or make me jealous. She genuinely loved Travis, and to be more honest than I had ever been before, her love for him was a serious blow to me.

  For the past few years, I’d had my ups and downs. I witnessed Nokea fall in love with another man, right before my own eyes. She had changed in so many ways. The way she lit up when he came around spoke volumes. Their affection for each other was on display every time I was in their presence. He respected her; she respected him. In the beginning of their relationship, I’d made a few attempts to keep our family together. I put up a fight, but, eventually, I lost the battle. Nokea made it clear that she would never live under the same roof with me again, and as for sex, she’d made a decision to give herself to one man and one man only. That man was Travis. I was shut out, and had been out for a very long time.

  The bright side was we remained close friends. We put our children first, and that was important to me. Our tedious arguments about where they would live, who was responsible for this or that . . . everything was all settled. The majority of time all four kids were with me and Nanny B. My oceanfront estate in Florida was spacious enough for everybody. The children made a choice to be there, probably because I spoiled the shit out of them. There was never a dull moment in my house; I wouldn’t have it any other way. Nokea came by often during the week, and on many weekends, they stayed with her. The same routine applied to Scorpio, who was the mother of Justin and Mackenzie. Scorpio came by to spend time with the kids during the week as well. On opposite weekends as Nokea, the kids were with her. So, in a nutshell, the situation with our children worked out for everybody. My only problem was Travis. I had to admit that there was a tinge of jealousy inside of me. But unlike I’d done in the past when things didn’t go according to my plans, I refused to interfere. I didn’t want to tell Nokea how I truly felt inside. As long as she was happy, I guess, so was I.

  With soft jazz music thumping in the background, I cruised down the street in my half-roof Maybach. It was white and loaded with luxury accessories that cost me a fortune. More than anything, it was a custom-made gift I had purchased for myself. I’d been working my ass off. Investing in real estate was the best thing I could have ever done. I owned property in almost every major city. Houses and condos from Miami to the Cayman Islands. I even built a new home around the outskirts of St. Louis, the place where I was born and half-assed raised. As of yet, nobody hadn’t officially moved into the house, but it was fully furnished. Nokea’s parents had parties there occasionally, and whenever I visited that was where I stayed. The kids loved it there, and Nanny B utilized the place when she went to St. Louis to chill with her sister. Owning property and land had become my priority. As a black man, I intended to leave my mark and have as much property and land as I could, for many generations to come. Therefore, whenever I was dead and gone, my family would be riding high. All of those houses and acres of land would be put to good use, thanks to me—I finally woke the fuck up. So did my right-hand man, Shane Alexander. In actuality, he was the one who moved to Florida and helped me kick this shit off. I’d made him a very wealthy man; he was probably the only person on this earth who I trusted with my life.

  As I waited for the red light to change, a tall, slender, prissy woman paraded across the street with her poodle. He looked to be every bit of a show dog, and his head was held up damn near as high as hers. Swaying palm trees shaded most of the street, and taking advantage of the 85 degree weather, fit joggers got in their daily exercise. Many paused to take a glimpse at my ride, and behind the lightly tinted sunglasses I wore, I peeped my surroundings. From the rearview mirror, I saw a woman who was swerving in and out of lanes in a Porsche pull up closely behind me. Since the right lane was clear, she veered over next to me. I hastily shifted my head, only because she was inches from tagging the back of my car. She lowered her window; a bright smile was on her freckled face.

  “Nice car,” she said, chewing gum and showing every bit of her pearly whites. “I was enjoying the scenery, if that’s okay.”

  My eyes narrowed behind the sunglasses that shielded my steel gray eyes. Fingertips brushed against my trimmed goatee. I moistened my bottom lip with the tip of my tongue—if only she knew what I was thinking. I didn’t appreciate how close her car was to mine, so it was in my best interest to say what troubled my mind.

  “Look all you want, but if you hit this muthafucka, there won’t be a damn thing for you to smile about. Pull your steering wheel to the right and keep it moving.”

  Her eyes bugged, mouth dropped wide open. Before she could say anything, I pressed on the accelerator, speeding away. I hated to be an asshole, and even though therapy had helped me calm down a little, I was still being me. Arrogant? No. Confident? Hell yes. Out of control? Never. Well, maybe, sometimes.

  A cool breeze stirred in my car, and as the sun peeked through the palm trees, it caramelized my light skin even more. I was ready to get to my destination, but right as I approached the next light, the call light came on. I hit the button to answer the phone.

  “Jaylin Rogers.”

  “Where are you?” Nokea inquired in a panicky voice. “I thought you would be here by now.”

  “I’m on my way. I should be there in about ten or fifteen minutes. You told me the fashion show didn’t start until six. It’s only four, so what’s the rush?”

  “I also told you that I needed some help. It’s crazy around here. It seems as if everybody is in a mood to be late.”

  “I’m not late at all. Besides, you already know what happens prior to these shows from experience. It always seems hectic, but after things get started, everything falls into place. Calm down, alright? I’ll be there in a minute to help you with whatever you need help with.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you soon. Come to the penthouse su
ite first. That’s where I’ll probably be.”

  Nokea was always on edge the day of her fashion shows. All week, she’d had me putting my business on hold just to help her. This was the third fashion show she’d had. Each time, they got better and better. She turned her business into an empire. In less than two years, it was already worth millions. She had a good start, thanks to me. But I couldn’t take credit for all of the hard work she’d done. She, along with her team of designers, was off the chain.

  I reached the overcrowded, plush hotel almost twenty minutes later. As soon as I stepped out of the car, my polished, two-tone, full-grain leather shoes hit the pavement. My gray, cuffed Canali slacks hung over my shoes, and with a black, crisp linen shirt on, richness defined me. I tossed my keys to the valet guy who seemed real nervous.

  “Just bring it back to me in the same condition I’m giving it to you,” I said, referring to my car.

  “Will do, sir. Definitely will do.”

  With a smooth and confident stride, I went inside, looking around at the busy hotel where Nokea decided to have her fashion show. People in business suits breezed by me, and there was a long line of individuals waiting in reservations. The smell of cigar smoke permeated the air, and with so many noisy kids running around, it could’ve been a daycare. The fashion show, however, was being set up in a private area. And before I went to the elevator, I took a quick detour to go look at the exquisite room that was almost complete. The runway was blue and silver with what looked to be tiny diamonds embedded in it. Several rows of wingback chairs surrounded it, and the walls were mostly covered with silky, ceiling-to-floor drapes. Crystal chandeliers lit up the whole room, including Nokea’s name that was scripted on a wave wall with columns on each side. Blue laser lights also zoomed in on her name, and right at the entry was a circular bar for everyone’s drinking pleasures. Nokea had mentioned something about confetti raining down, after the show was over. But when I looked up, I didn’t see anything. I was quite impressed by how everything came together. There was no one, not one person, more proud of her than me.

  I headed to the elevator with many eyes traveling with me. My Rolex with a big face filled with glistening diamonds was visible, and my custom attire was always tailored made to fit my tall, muscular frame. I entered the elevator, immediately infusing it with musky cologne. The two women to my left were all stares, and a hating ass white man to my right had the audacity to cut his eyes at me. I chuckled a bit as he evil-eyed the women who didn’t dare look in his direction. He was so pissed that, as soon as the elevator opened, he made a speedy exit.

  “What was his problem?” One of the women said. “Weird, man, really weird.”

  I didn’t respond. Never did respond, because I had experienced hate at a level that not too many people had ever seen. Over time, the hate grew to new heights. I, however, became motivated by individuals who wished like hell they could be me. The one. The only. Jaylin Jerome Rogers.

  The elevator opened at the top floor. The second I made my exit, I could see things were chaotic. Numerous slim and voluptuous models crowded the hallways, gossiping. There were so many cameras flashing that my head started to spin. The one thing I didn’t like was too much attention. I hated for people to halt my steps and ask me questions. I was a very private man, and some of these functions Nokea conducted opened the door for too many people to be in our business. I tried my best to make it to the penthouse suite without being questioned. But after a few bold steps in that direction, a reporter who was there to cover the event stopped me.

  “Hello, Mr. Rogers,” she said with her face too close to mine. “Have you had the pleasure of seeing any of the attire your wife will showcase this evening? Or are you in the dark like the rest of us are?”

  One of the models who knew Nokea and I were no longer married replied to the reporter’s dumb-ass question.

  “Nokea is not his wife, and I’m sure he’s in the dark like we all are.”

  She answered for me, so I proceeded toward the door to the penthouse. The reporter also knew Nokea wasn’t my wife. She just figured that her question would get a response from me. It almost did. I don’t think she would’ve appreciated my answer.

  I managed to work my way through the crowd, but was stopped numerous times to take pictures.

  “Over here, Jaylin,” Jazz said. She was one of Nokea’s top designers. “We need you over here with the ladies. This photo is for the magazine. Pleeeease.”

  I was a little moody, but only for Nokea was I willing to do this. I stood in the center, while several of the giddy models surrounded me. The cameras started to flash, but Jazz waved her hands in the air, telling the photographers to pause.

  “Wait one minute, okay?” She rushed up to me, removing my sunglasses. “If you don’t mind, I want those luring eyes in the picture, too. Smile, Jaylin. With all of these lovely women surrounding you, you need to smile.”

  Many of the models laughed, and just for the hell of it, I smiled. Jazz blew me a kiss, and after the picture-taking festivities were done, she gave my sunglasses back and thanked me.

  “No problem,” I said. “Where’s Nokea?”

  “She’s upstairs in the penthouse. I think she’s been looking for you.”

  I had been trying to get there, but that was a difficult task. When I had finally made my way inside, the penthouse was jam-packed with many professional looking people I had never seen. I heard Nokea call my name, so I swung around with my hands dipped into my pockets. She was standing on the upper level, looking down from the glass balcony.

  “Can you please come up here and help me?” she asked. “I really need you, now.”

  I spoke to a few people who said hello to me and tackled the circular staircase that led to numerous rooms. On my way up, I heard the whispers, saw the stares. But the only one I wanted to take notice was Nokea. She stood in front of two models, nibbling at her nails. All she had on was a soft cotton robe that cut above her knees. Her hair was in an asymmetrical bob that was long, feathered and flipped on one side, short on the other. The minimal makeup she wore was on like artwork, and her long lashes made her look even prettier. Every time I saw her, my heart pounded just a little bit faster. Thoughts of our long lives together were always fresh in my mind. I would never settle for anything less; she would always be Mrs. Rogers in my book.

  My somber mood changed fast, especially when Nokea turned her head, smiling at me.

  “Look at you.” Her eyes scanned me from head to toe. “Come over here and give me a hug, before I put you to work.”

  I removed my hands from my pockets to give her a hug. Her petite frame close to my towering frame felt perfect.

  “What’s up, Boss Lady? What do you need me to do?”

  She backed away from me, releasing a deep sigh. “First of all, I’m so worried about my baby, Jaylene. I wanted to go to her gymnastics competition, and I’m so mad that they scheduled it on the same day as this. Do you think she’s upset with me?”

  “No. She’s not upset with me either, and it’s the first time we’ve missed her competition. Nanny B is there with her, so is your mother. They’re going to record the entire thing, so you won’t miss a minute. Now, what’s next?”

  “I need you to make a few phone calls for me. The last time I checked, the people who were supposed to do those confetti drops hadn’t shown up. I also need it to be much brighter in that room, so I need to get some extra lighting set up quickly. Lastly, the waiting room for the models is too small. If you could find the manager and ask if he could open up another room for us, that would be great. Other than that, I still need to get dressed, I still have to get all of those outfits over there on those racks downstairs, and I haven’t even heard from your son. I know he’s with Kyle and his parents at the amusement park, but why isn’t he answering his phone? Have you spoken to him?”

  “Yes. He dropped his phone in some water. It’s not working anymore. He’s spending the night at his friend’s house, and you need to sto
p all of this unnecessary worrying. Give me the number to the people who are supposed to hook up the confetti. I’ll go talk to the manager about the lights and using an additional room. As for those clothes, with all these people in here, you need to tell them to cease all this yakking and start moving some of this shit downstairs. I didn’t—”

  I paused as Nokea peeked over my shoulder, showing her dimples. When I turned my head, the good ol’ doctor was coming up from behind, dressed in a casual blazer and slacks. He said a quick “what’s up” to me, before reaching out to embrace Nokea.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Travis said with a wide smile. His dark-chocolate skin, meticulously cut short afro and light-brown eyes turned many heads too. With those big white teeth, though, one would assume he was a dentist, instead of a doctor. He continued to explain his tardiness to Nokea. “Late because I got tied up on an important phone call at home.”

  Nokea laughed. “I guess that means you were talking to your mother.”

  “Yes, for almost a whole thirty minutes, nonstop. She told me to tell you good luck tonight. She also wants you to call her when you get a moment.”

  “Will do. I think I already know what she wants.”

  Travis leaned in to kiss Nokea. This time, it was his tall frame against hers, instead of mine. They indulged as if I wasn’t even standing there. When he lowered his hand to take a light squeeze on her ass, I swear I wanted to grab his damn hand and break it. Nokea backed away from him, then wiped his lips to remove the lip gloss she’d put on them.

  “Sorry about that.” She pecked his lips again. “I don’t want you around here looking like one of the models. But with that being said, I need your help, too.”

  Travis rubbed his hands together. “Use me, baby. Whatever you need me to do, I’m here.”