Say It Ain't So Page 16

  “Huh?” Scooter was confused.

  “They’re not trying to kill me. They’re not trying to kidnap me or slice me up and throw my body in the river.” Paisley sniffed. “They’re trying to get me to lose my mind. They want me to be crazy, and I am.”

  “I want you to listen to me,” Scooter said. “You’re not crazy and you’re not gonna lose your mind. What you are gonna do is get yourself together and regain control of your life. You’re not gonna let this bastard stop you from living.”

  “I’m trying. I’ve gone back to work, despite the damn media whores everywhere I go. I still get out and about. Whoever is doing this has all my banking information. There’s no telling what they’re gonna do next.”

  “And you’re gonna keep doing it.” Scooter nodded. “Fallon checked all of your accounts. Nothing was charged to you. Whoever sent all this shit paid for it themselves and we’re gonna find out who it was. Come on, get up. Aren’t you supposed to be going to get your cast off?”

  Paisley stared at him, wondering if he was serious. She had made up her mind that she was going to be confined to the walls of her house, this room even. She was too afraid to go anywhere or do anything.

  “I’m not leaving this house,” Paisley told him.

  “Yes, you are. Get your ass up and let’s go.” Scooter pulled the comforter off Paisley and tossed it on the foot of the bed. “The grand opening of the club is in a week. Do you even have anything to wear?”

  “I’m not going.” Paisley sat up. Killa hopped off the sofa in the sitting area where he had been lying and jumped into her lap.

  “That’s bull. You’re going. You’re a part of this whole thing; you wouldn’t disappoint Diesel by not going nor would you disappoint yourself. Besides, stalker or not, your nosy ass wants to see who’s gonna be there. Now get up so we can get that damn cast off and go to the mall.”

  Paisley stared at Scooter, who was waiting for her to get out of bed. She slowly tossed her legs to the side and stood up. He looked into her eyes and gently pulled her to him. For some strange reason, Paisley became lost in the embrace, the warmth of his body relaxing her. Damn, this feels nice, she thought, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of his cologne. It felt so good that, for a moment, she forgot it was Scooter’s arms that were holding her. His fingers caressed the small of her back, causing chills to run up and down her spine.

  Reality snapped her back when she heard him whisper, “Damn, Pais, I wanna hold you like this forever.”

  Paisley’s eyes opened and she took a step back and out of his grasp.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I . . . I . . . need to make a phone call,” Paisley lied. “Go ahead and wait downstairs, I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  Scooter walked out of her room, and she sat on the bed. Her body was still warm from the hug. A hug that she didn’t want to end, but she didn’t want to be hugging Scooter. She thought about Evan, and his offer to take her to dinner. The thought of sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant, talking about their lives, excited her. She wanted to share her life with someone, to be loved and connect. That connection, it was the one thing that had been missing from her life. She ached for it, and she realized, her heart still ached for him. The connection she shared with Warren had been unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was as if he knew her inside and out; and no one had ever come remotely close to reaching that core of her that he had touched. He was the only one, and as much as she was attracted to Evan, she knew that she would never feel for him the love that she had for Warren.

  You’ll know you’ve met the one, when Warren no longer matters.

  Chapter 16

  “Welcome to the good liiifffe!” Paisley sang along with Kanye West as she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She snapped her fingers in true Chester fashion, complimenting herself out loud. “Girl, you are fierce!”

  The black sheer top she wore was tasteful and had just the right touch of sexiness without being slutty; the shirt along with her form-fitting jeans and Manolo Blahnik stilettos was enough to turn heads, exactly what she wanted to happen. Scooter had aided her in picking out her outfit and, she had to admit, she didn’t think Chester, in all of his fashionista, could have done a better job. The curly hair extensions she wore fell just right, and reached the center of her back. The diamonds in her hoop earrings, bracelet, and necklace shimmered. Feeling daring and in a playful mood, she reached into her jewelry box, removed her set of platinum fronts, and popped them into her mouth. The teeth were a gift from Nelly from when she starred in his last video. Satisfied with her appearance, she headed downstairs.

  “Uh-oh, no you didn’t break out the fronts!” Seymone giggled when Paisley smiled. Her friend looked gorgeous in an all black, form-fitting jumpsuit.

  “You know that’s what’s up,” Paisley said with attitude.

  Landon, looking handsome in a black dress shirt and pants, shook his head at her. “You look like a ghetto super model.”

  “Haters beware.” She crossed her arms across her chest in a hip-hop pose.

  The doorbell rang and Chester, Scooter, and Diesel all walked in.

  “Wow,” Scooter commented, looking Paisley up and down. “You look good as hell. I told you that shirt was gonna fit perfectly.”

  “Yes, it does,” Chester agreed. “I don’t think I could’ve done better myself.”

  “You look good too.” Paisley hugged her cousin, dressed in a vintage white ruffle shirt and black tuxedo jacket. His large fro was wild as ever and he had a large pair of sunglasses on.

  “We all look good.” Diesel smiled. He held up a bottle of gold foil–wrapped Roederer Cristal. “Y’all know we gotta get our toast on before we leave.”

  “Where’s Yaya?” Paisley asked him.

  “She said she was gonna be here when I got here.” Diesel shrugged.

  Seymone grabbed some flutes from Paisley’s china cabinet and passed them out.

  “No, thanks,” Landon said when she got to him.

  “What’s wrong?” Chester asked him.

  “Landon doesn’t drink,” Paisley told him.

  “What? Say it ain’t so.” Chester seemed surprised.

  “Aw, come on, Landon,” Diesel said. “One drink won’t hurt you. I know you’re gonna help celebrate my moment with me.”

  “I’m celebrating.” Landon smiled. “But, I’m working, what can I say?”

  “He doesn’t even wanna go tonight, but he has to because I’m going.” Paisley smirked.

  Landon shook his head at Paisley and was about to say something, but the doorbell rang, stopping him. He walked over and opened the door.

  “Where my party people at?” Yaya yelled as she walked inside, followed by her partner, Taryn, and best friend, Camille. The three girls were dressed to impress and in hype mode, and Paisley was glad they were tagging along.

  “We were just about to make a toast,” Diesel said, pulling Yaya close to him and kissing her on her cheek.

  Seymone continued pouring champagne, and even handed Landon a glass of ginger ale. “We still want you to participate in the toast.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled at Seymone.

  Diesel raised his glass and said, “To my friends, who are closer to me than my own family. I love and thank each and every one of you. You’ve been there as I struggled, worked, fought, partied, laughed, cried, was broke, got paid, and you helped me make my dream a reality. To Street Dreams!”

  “To Street Dreams!” they all echoed, and tapped glasses in the air.

  “All right, let’s roll,” Chester announced. “Who’s riding with who?”

  “We’re all riding together.” Yaya smiled.

  “How is that possible?” Landon asked.

  Yaya opened the front door. Sitting in front of Paisley’s house was a black stretch Hummer.

  “Baby, you think of everything, that’s why I keep you by my side.” Diesel picked Yaya up and twirled her around.


  “I’m glad you did think of that,” Scooter agreed. “For a minute, I thought you were talking about Paisley’s little MDX. I don’t know why she didn’t go ahead and get a Range Rover like I told her to. That’s more her style and she would look hot as hell behind the wheel.”

  “Let’s go,” Paisley told him, rolling her eyes.

  “I know Dorian Wilson personally; the dude who used to be in the NFL who owns that luxury lot downtown. One phone call and you can be riding in class and style.” Scooter winked.

  Paisley shook her head and walked out the door. Landon made sure the house was locked up, and they were all on their way.

  The line to get into Street Dreams was wrapped around the building. The limo they all rode in pulled right up to the front and they got out. Cameras flashed and the crowd called out their names, everyone hoping to get noticed and allowed to walk in with them. Although she and Seymone were used to the attention, they both smiled as they noticed the pleasure their friends were having. They all posed for pictures and even signed a few autographs before going in. Once inside, Paisley was amazed at the transformation. Before being renovated, the club was already huge, with three floors. It seemed even bigger now, and classier, with the bar extended across the entire back portion of the club and the expanded dance floor. The guys had decided to keep Tobias “Deejay Terror” Sims. He was the best in the business and had been the house deejay for years. As Diesel pointed out in one of their business meetings, not everything needed to be changed. Deejay Terror shouted them out over the microphone when he spotted them enter the club, and they headed to the VIP section.

  “This is amazing,” Seymone yelled over the music.

  Paisley nodded, and watched as the crowd flowed in. In what seemed like seconds, the club was packed and VIP was overflowing with celebrities. Stars from every sports and music genre were everywhere Paisley looked. She greeted familiar faces nonstop, and everyone commented on how sorry they were about the accident and how beautiful she looked. Even Evan showed up, to her surprise.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” she said to Seymone after a while, and stood up. Landon didn’t hesitate standing and was right behind her. She turned and told him, “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

  “I know. But if you think I’m gonna have you wandering alone in this crowd, you’re crazy. Anything could happen.”

  Paisley knew there was no arguing with him. “Fine.”

  “Hi, Paisley,” a chipper voice yelled.

  She looked over and spotted Nick, her waiter from Java’s, and she waved at him, showing him her cast-less arm. Landon stayed close behind her as they made their way through the thick crowd. Guys were trying to get at her from left to right, and she was grateful Landon was there to help her. They walked to the top of the club. Paisley spoke to the security guy guarding the door of the hallway that led to the offices and dressing areas.

  “Good evening, Ms. Lawrence.” He smiled and opened the door for her. As she passed the dressing rooms, she saw Yaya, Taryn, and Camille hard at work putting makeup on the girls, while Chester assisted with the uniforms he had designed. Everything was coming together as planned. Paisley couldn’t wait to see the performance Seymone had choreographed.

  She entered Diesel’s office and went to his restroom. She was relieved for the moment of quiet. To her surprise, her cell phone rang. She saw that it was Warren and didn’t hesitate to answer.

  “I need to see you,” he said before she could say hello. “I’m at the Seashore Marriott, suite sixteen-forty-two. Be here in an hour.”

  “Warren, I can’t meet you tonight. I’m at the club’s grand opening,” Paisley whispered into the phone.

  “I don’t give a damn where you are. Meet me here in an hour, Paisley. I mean it. Alone.”

  “How am I supposed to do that? Landon is practically glued to my ass and he’s everywhere I go,” she hissed. “What the hell is going on?”

  “You tell me!” he snapped. “I’m not getting into this right now. See you when you get here!”

  He hung up the phone and she shook her head. This man has lost his mind, she thought. She was about to put the phone back into her purse when it began buzzing again. It was a text from him.

  Fake sick . . . do something . . . and get the hell over here . . . we need to talk . . . I’m not playing . . . Suite 1642 . . .W.

  Paisley got herself together and returned to the office area where Landon was waiting.

  “You all right?” he asked. “You look kinda sick.”

  “I really don’t feel well,” she lied. “I’ll be fine. Come on.”

  Seymone was in the hallway when they came out of the office.

  “I gotta go give my guys and girls a pep talk.” She smiled.

  “They’ll be fine,” Paisley assured her. “You did a great job with them. It’s gonna be a smash.”

  “We’ll see,” Seymone said. “I’ll be back down once they’re settled in place.”

  “Okay.” Paisley smiled. She was still trying to figure out if and how she was going to slip out to meet Warren. She could tell by the tone of his voice that something was wrong and he was upset. By the time they made it back to VIP, Diesel was on the stage near the deejay booth and talking into the microphone. Paisley stood at the edge of the balcony so she could get a good view. Scooter came and stood behind her, putting his arms on her shoulders.

  “I wanna thank everyone for coming out to Street Dreams. We all loved State Streets for years, but when we bought it, we wanted to bring some new flavor to the place. As you can see, we did a little remodeling and changed things up a bit, and made the bar a little bigger on the first floor.” The crowd yelled as Diesel pointed to the bar. “Well, we thought that maybe since we made the bar so big, we could throw in some eye candy for everyone to enjoy while getting their drink on. And so we came up with this!”

  The two red velvet curtains hanging on each end of the bar fell, revealing two large glass boxes measuring ten by ten. Inside each one was a girl and a guy, dressed in matching white outfits, dancing precisely to Usher’s “Bad Girl,” which was blasting. The bass was so loud and deep that Paisley could feel it in her chest. The couples were so intense as they moved in unison to the music, and the dance was so sexy, that Paisley found herself slightly aroused by the time they finished. The crowd went wild and Deejay Terror went into another song. The dance floor became packed and the party went into full swing.

  “I knew that shit was gonna be hot,” Scooter’s voice said in her ear. “Diesel is a crowd pleaser.”

  “Indeed he is.” She eased from his grasp.

  Seymone rushed over and squealed, “They liked it.”

  “They loved it!” Paisley nodded.

  “Yo, you worked that.” Scooter smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Seymone, you choreographed that?” someone asked.

  “Yeah.” Seymone nodded, downing another drink. Paisley counted it as her fourth one, which was unusual because Seymone normally wasn’t a drinker.

  “I don’t believe it. Come over here and let me see if you really got those moves,” another guy yelled. Pretty soon, the crowd was chanting Seymone’s name and calling for her to dance. Someone helped Seymone on top of the small bar in the VIP area, and she began moving her body seductively to the music.

  “Well, she’s drunk,” Paisley commented.

  “She’s worked hard, she deserves to unwind. Let her enjoy her moment,” Dr. Singleton laughed. She turned and saw that Landon was staring in amazement at her best friend as she danced.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Everyone turned around to see Bobby Taylor frowning.

  “Oh, damn,” Paisley said, and started easing back a bit. Seymone was so into the song that she didn’t even realize her fiancé was there.

  “Seymone! Get your ass down!” Bobby yelled. Seymone saw Bobby and stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Bobby,” she whispered.

  Bobby
stormed over to the table and just as he reached up to pull Seymone down, Landon was beside him, grabbing his arm. Bobby snatched away and swung his fist toward Landon’s face. Landon moved back and collared Bobby, tossing him across the room. Bobby’s boys went after Landon but were stopped by both Scooter and Evan. Within seconds, the fight broke out. Paisley continued easing out of the mayhem until she was near the door. People were so caught up in the fight that no one noticed her slip out.

  “Paisley, Paisley!”

  Paisley turned and saw Nick, the waiter from Java’s, waving at her. She beckoned for him to come to her. “Do you have a car?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded, looking at her strangely. “You need a ride?”

  “Please.” She smiled. “Can you take me to the Seashore Marriott?”

  He shrugged. “No problem.”

  Warren

  Jack Daniels . . . that’s my new best friend. It seems to be the only thing that brings me any sort of happiness these days . . . The taste of it brings me back to the days when I would go to the bar and sit and talk to Paisley . . . It was the last thing I remember tasting the night of the accident, when we were together, at Charley’s . . . Every time I take a swallow, I’m back with her. I love Paisley Janelle Lawrence more than anything in my life. She is the one person who I can honestly say brings me true happiness.

  The biggest mistake I made in my life was walking out that door the night before I got married, and leaving her. What the hell was I thinking? I was thinking that I would marry Kollette, and secure my contract with her uncle’s music label, make it big, leave her ugly ass, and eventually be with Paisley, my one true love. But things got complicated.

  For starters, I didn’t realize that Kollette’s uncle was only dealing with gospel acts, which meant the R & B career I hoped I would have was gonna have to change. So, all the songs I had written about my love for Paisley I basically changed to be written about my love for God, had a couple of crossover gospel hits, and voila, my career was born. Don’t get me wrong, I love God, but this whole gospel thing is getting kind of tired. I have to be this person I’m not, so much so that it’s exhausting. No one knows me for real except Paisley. It pisses me off when I think about the night of the accident. I know it wasn’t my fault, even though I had a couple of drinks. But somehow, I still feel responsible. If only I hadn’t pressured her into coming with me. I got her involved in all this drama, and she doesn’t deserve any of it.