Say It Ain't So Read online

  “I tend to have that effect sometimes,” he whispered. “You should think about going on a vacation. I know a great little spot in Hilton Head.”

  “Vacation? What’s that? You know I can’t go on a vacation, and neither can you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have a studio that I can barely run and you have a nightclub that’s about to open in less than a month, or have you forgotten?”

  “Those are minor details that can easily be worked out.” Scooter’s hands travelled from her shoulders to her neck. “Let me ask you a question, Pais.”

  “Ask away.” She rolled her head forward, enjoying the feel of his hands a little more than she probably should have.

  “Have you ever thought about going out with me?”

  Paisley’s eyes opened and she shook her head. “No, Scooter. To be honest, I haven’t. I don’t think that’s something I would ever want to consider. I value our friendship too much, you know that.”

  “Come on, Pais. You know I’ve been digging you for a while now. And I think you and I would be good together.” For a moment, she thought he was teasing her, and then she saw the sincerity in his eyes and heard it in his voice. “When you were in that accident and we didn’t know if you were gonna make it, I was scared. Not because I thought you were gonna die, but because I thought you would never know how I felt about you. The fact that there’s some psycho stalking you and I can’t do anything about him frightens me. I wanna protect you, be there for you, and take care of you.”

  Paisley was speechless. It was as if Scooter had left his body and someone else had jumped in it and taken over.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, but I had to tell you. Just meditate on it and we’ll talk about it later. In the meantime, I’ma grab one of these blankets and catch me some ‘z’s. Get some sleep, Paisley. The doors are locked and I’m right here. I’m not gon’ let anything happen to you.” He kissed her softly on her neck, then made himself comfortable on the sofa.

  “Good night.” She was shocked by his confession.

  “Night,” he replied.

  The next morning, Paisley woke to the sound of her cell phone ringing.

  “Hello,” she answered without seeing who it was.

  “Who is this?” a female hissed into the phone.

  Paisley sat up, and replied, “You called me. Who is this?”

  “Someone keeps calling and paging my husband from this number. Now who the hell is this?”

  Paisley glanced down at the face of her phone and grimaced as she saw Warren’s name. “Kollette, it’s me, Paisley.”

  “What? You’ve got to be kidding me. Why the hell are you still trying to contact my husband?” Kollette screamed.

  “First of all, you need to lower your tone with me, and if you’re concerned about who’s calling Warren, you need to ask him yourself.” Paisley looked over and saw Scooter stirring on the sofa.

  “I don’t have to ask my husband anything. You’re the one who’s been blowing his phone up, so I’m asking you!”

  “Look, I don’t owe you an explanation about anything. I’m hanging up.” Paisley’s voice remained calm. It took all she had not to say that Warren had called her first, but if Kollette had gone through Warren’s phone, she had to see that he had made the call.

  “I’m warning you, stay away from my husband.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “You call it whatever you want.” Kollette was breathing so hard, Paisley wondered if the woman was about to have a heart attack while she was on the phone. “But I can make your life a living hell and I will. Stay away.”

  “You’re crazy,” Paisley told her.

  “You ain’t seen crazy yet,” Kollette said, and hung up.

  Paisley looked at the time on her phone and saw that it was five o’clock in the morning. She couldn’t believe Kollette had the nerve to call her with that madness. I got enough in my life I’m dealing with than to worry about Kollette’s fat, insecure ass. What I should’ve done was let her know that The Playground was about to reopen and suggest she come and try to take some classes.

  Chapter 11

  “I can’t understand why you kept that damn dog,” Seymone snapped, walking into Paisley’s office after her first class had ended. “I think he peed on my gym bag.”

  “That’s because you didn’t let him out like I asked you to,” Paisley replied. She had to admit, she hadn’t realized how much work having a dog would be. She was constantly cleaning after it chewed something up, went to the bathroom on the floor, or knocked something over. Then there was letting him outside and making sure he had food and water. If this is anything like having a kid, I’m glad I decided to wait on motherhood. Although, at almost thirty, my ticking biological clock is starting to concern me.

  “Scooter had just let him back in before he left,” Seymone answered, “and that was because he crapped on the floor. I swear, if he doesn’t kill that dog, I will.”

  “Neither one of you are gonna do anything. Dammit, I think I left my laptop at home.” Paisley swiveled in her chair away from the computer, where she was working.

  Today was the day that classes were resuming at The Playground; she had a lot of work to catch up on, and typing with a cast on her wrist wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. Diesel and Scooter made sure that not only her security system was intact at her house, but at the studio as well, complete with surveillance cameras. It had taken some persuading, but she had even convinced Scooter that he could leave her side and go to work, something he hadn’t done in two days. Paisley was determined to regain some sense of normalcy in her life. Returning to the studio and seeing her students walk through the doors, greeting her with hugs and smiles, renewed her spirits instantly. She had expected funny looks or questions regarding her and Warren and the accident, but there were none. She had mentally prepared herself for the snide comments and accusatory glares, but no one gave her any. They didn’t even seem to notice her still very bruised and scarred face and neck.

  “So, how did it go?”

  “It was so much fun! The ladies are nice and we had a ball. I’m looking forward to the next one, but I’m tired right now.” Seymone laughed and plopped into one of the chairs in front of Paisley’s desk.

  “Now you see why I space them out like I do.” Paisley gave her a knowing look.

  “By the time you’re healed and back in full swing, I’ma be back to a size four.” Seymone rubbed her hands along her now size-ten hips.

  “Girl, you know you weren’t a four! You were a solid six, sometimes an eight!” Paisley said, thinking that even with her slight weight gain, Seymone still looked damn good in her white baby T-shirt blazoned with The Playground’s logo, and white leggings. She pulled a pair of white stiletto heels out of her gym bag, which were a requirement for the pole class she was about to teach in the next hour, and slipped off the white Reeboks that were on her feet.

  “I don’t think so. I’m an eight now.” Seymone squinted at the monitor sitting on top of the file cabinet. “Is that Fallon?”

  Paisley looked over and watched Fallon standing at the front door, which now automatically remained locked until someone buzzed it open. Paisley pushed the button and Fallon pulled it open.

  “When the hell did this turn into Fort Knox?” They heard Fallon say from down the hallway.

  “Don’t be mad because we’re all about safety.” Paisley laughed.

  “I understand that, but damn.” Fallon glanced up at the security monitors. “Wow, you can see all over the building.”

  There were cameras located in each area of the studio: the Big Room, where the Strip-Hop classes were taught; the Pole Room, which held ten stripper poles where pole dancing was taught; the Workout Room, which was set up like a typical gym, and held cardio equipment and free weights; and the Hot Spot, which was the boutique where students could buy workout attire, or bedroom attire. The cameras were also placed in the parking lot, and by the front and back d
oors. They knew what was going on in the studio at all times.

  “Looks like The Playground is back in action and you got a full house.” Fallon pointed at the women on various equipment in the Workout Room. Paisley smiled, feeling grateful as she watched her faithful clients getting their workout on.

  “Yeah, word must’ve spread fast. The phone has been ringing off the hook all morning,” Paisley said.

  “Speaking of the phone, that’s why I’m here.” Fallon tucked her hair behind her ear and took a seat beside Seymone, leaning her black Prada briefcase beside her. “We need to talk.”

  “You’re not here for class?” Seymone feigned shock.

  “Honey, I don’t need Strip-Hop. I wear my man out enough as it is, don’t act like you don’t know.” Fallon grinned.

  “Whatever.” Seymone stood up. “I got a class to get ready for and a pissy gym bag to clean.”

  “Why is her gym bag pissy?” Fallon asked when Seymone was gone.

  “She claims the dog did it.” Paisley shrugged.

  “You’re really keeping a dog that a stalker gave you?”

  “Yeah.” Paisley nodded.

  “I don’t mean any harm, Paisley,” Fallon told her, “but that’s some real white-people shit to do.”

  Paisley began laughing so hard that her body began aching. “Fallon, you are truly crazy.”

  “I’m serious. It is.” Fallon shook her head. “Believe me, I’m white and I know.”

  After a few moments, Paisley regained her composure. “All right, so what’s going on?”

  “I got a call from Ebonie Monroe.” Fallon sighed, pursing her lips. “It seems that Warren’s wife, Kollette . . .”

  “Is crazy as hell,” Paisley finished the sentence.

  “Huh?”

  “She called me from Warren’s phone the other morning and threatened me.” Paisley smirked.

  “Well, according to Kollette, you’ve been calling and texting Warren all times of the night and she’s kind of pissed. She’s threatened to go public and say that you’re stalking her husband,” Fallon informed her.

  Paisley couldn’t believe it. “You’re joking, right? How the hell am I stalking someone when someone is stalking me?”

  “That’s what I told Ebonie. And she admitted that not only is Kollette a drama queen in the worst way, but she’s a lot to handle. I’ve assured Ebonie that you have your own personal issues you’re dealing with. Now, I totally understand if on occasion in the past few days, you called or texted Warren to make sure he’s getting better, am I right?”

  Paisley wondered where Fallon was going with this, so she simply said, “Yes.”

  “And Ebonie even pointed out that after looking at Warren’s cell records, he has called and texted you.”

  “Yes.”

  “After all, as you’ve told me, you’re friends, and not only that, but you two were involved in an accident together. But we all know the sensitivity of the situation and I assured Ebonie that Kollette won’t have any other reason to even think that you ‘want’ her husband.”

  “This is crazy.” Paisley sat back and shook her head in amazement. “Did Ebonie point out to Kollette that Warren called me?”

  “I didn’t ask and, to be honest, Paisley, I don’t care. Like I told you, Warren Cobb is not my concern, you are. We know this chick is crazy, but we don’t want to give her any other reason to be crazier than she already is and drag your name into anything. You understand?”

  “I guess.” Paisley sighed. What she didn’t understand was why Warren didn’t handle his wife and was allowing this to continue. Then again, maybe he didn’t even know Kollette was doing any of this. One thing was for certain; she was gonna make damn sure he found out.

  “Who is that guy?” Fallon asked, staring at the monitor.

  Paisley glanced up and saw a strange man lurking outside in the parking lot. “I don’t know.”

  The man seemed to be checking things out, as if he wanted to make sure no one was watching. He walked from the parking lot and disappeared from their view.

  “I guess he was lost.” Paisley shrugged.

  “Now,” Fallon opened her bag and took out a day planner, “your Web site numbers are incredible. We’re running another print of the calendar. You’ve gotten mad calls for jobs. I know you’re not up for working just yet, but I just wanna give you the heads-up that Paisley Lawrence is back in demand. I know this is gonna sound crazy, but in a way, this accident has jump-started your modeling career again. If you want the work, that is.”

  “I don’t know, Fallon,” Paisley said. “I’m really getting too old to be a video vixen. I’m damn near thirty. I’m supposed to be transitioning, remember. That’s why I opened The Playground.”

  “And that’s cool. But Paisley, I’m telling you, there are some big time offers on the table. Enyce is launching a new lingerie line and they want you to be the spokes model.”

  “What? Are you serious?” Paisley was shocked. She had been featured in ads, but she had never been the actual spokesmodel for anything.

  Fallon nodded. “I’m serious. They’re talking print and video; the whole nine yards. The entire line will be created around you and The Playground.”

  “How much are they paying?”

  Fallon reached into her briefcase and passed Paisley a sheet of paper with numbers written on it. “I almost said yes without consulting you first.”

  “All these zeros? You should have said hell yeah!” Paisley laughed. The wheels in her head started turning. “We should let Chester design the line.”

  “That’s brilliant. Look at all the items he’s already done for The Playground.” Fallon nodded.

  “Yeah, you know designing is his pleasure, girl.” Paisley laughed. “Oh, snap! That’s what the line can be called. Pleasure!”

  “I love it,” Fallon squealed. Within minutes, she was on the phone with the execs from the fashion label and Paisley was calling her cousin with the news. She was explaining the concept and title to Chester when Fallon called her name.

  “Paisley, look, dude’s back.”

  Paisley saw that the guy they had spotted earlier was now hanging in the back of the studio. She stepped forward to get a closer look.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m about to call the police.” Paisley picked up the phone, dialed 911, and told the dispatcher that there was a suspicious black man dressed in blue jeans and a black and red jacket lurking around the premises.

  “Maybe we should gather everyone into the Big Room,” Fallon suggested.

  “No, I don’t want them to panic. The police will be here in a few minutes and they’ll get him. Come on, let’s go and wait in the lobby.” Paisley grabbed her cell phone and saw that she had missed a call from Scooter. She called him and told him what was going on.

  “Hold tight. I’m on my way,” he said, and hung up.

  “Scooter’s on his way,” Paisley said, peeking out the door, waiting for the police to arrive.

  “He’s sure becoming a regular knight in shining armor.” Fallon gave her a knowing look. Paisley told her about Scooter’s confession the other night. “I always knew he had a thing for you. But then again, most guys do.”

  “You know I don’t like him like that. He’s really not my type,” Paisley told her.

  “Scooter is fine. And he can dress his ass off. Not to mention he’s well-educated, has a corporate job, a house, several cars . . . let’s not even mention that he just bought a nightclub. What more are you looking for, Paisley?”

  “I don’t know . . . I just never considered dating Scooter . . . He’s Scooter.”

  “Exactly my point. He’s Scooter, and you know him, I know him, we all know him and know that he’s a good guy.”

  Paisley looked down the street and saw the police approaching. “Cops are here.”

  Fallon said, “Uh, Paisley, the guy is walking toward the door.”

  Sure enough, he was walking straight toward them. Paisley took
a step back and wondered what she should do. The bell rang and the guy looked inside. There was something familiar about him, and Paisley took a step closer as she tried to figure out where she knew him from.

  “Don’t let him in,” Fallon cried out.

  “I’m not,” Paisley snapped.

  They watched as a policeman got out of his car and called out to the guy. Another police car pulled up into the parking lot. The guy turned around and Paisley braced herself, praying that he wouldn’t do anything like pull out a gun and go on a shooting rampage.

  “I hope he doesn’t try to run from the cops and they end up shooting him in the parking lot. I definitely don’t wanna see The Playground on the news because of a shootout. We’ve been in the press enough,” Fallon commented.

  The guy said something back to the officers, and began walking toward the squad cars. Suddenly, Paisley watched as, instead of guns being pulled, the three men began laughing and talking to one another as if they were old friends. One police officer gave the guy a hug.

  “Wow, that’s not what I was expecting to happen,” Fallon commented.

  Confused by the sudden camaraderie among the men, Paisley opened the door and walked outside. Fallon was right behind her.

  “Excuse me, can someone explain to me what’s going on? Who are you and why the hell are you loitering around my studio?” she asked.

  “Yes, please do. We called you all out here to protect and serve and somehow it’s turned into a frat meeting!” Fallon exclaimed.

  The three men walked over to the women.

  “Uh, sorry, ma’am,” one of the officers said. “This man fits the description of the man we were looking for, and it turns out that we know him, that’s all.”

  “She knows me too,” the guy said, the richness of his voice catching her attention. “You called the cops on me?”

  Paisley frowned and again stared at the familiar man. She tried to recall where she knew him from, but she still couldn’t place him.

  “You know this guy, Paisley?” Fallon asked.

  The door opened and Seymone rushed outside. “What’s going on? Why are the police here?”

  “She called them on me,” the guy said. Again, his voice rang in her head.