Say It Ain't So Page 4

  “Seymone, help her back into bed,” Fallon directed. “I’m going to meet with the administrators and their whack-ass security. I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t leave her alone.”

  “I won’t,” Seymone assured her. She helped Paisley back into bed, and as she reached to spread the blanket across her legs, she leaned over and stuck her hand between the mattress and the foot of the bed. She pulled something out. “What is this?”

  “Let me see that.” Paisley took what looked like a folded note card with something shiny attached. “This is it! This is what he dropped last night. I knew I wasn’t crazy!”

  She gently unfolded the card and the scent of strange cologne filled her nostrils. The written message inside read:

  My heart and thoughts are with you and I am always nearby. You are and will always be mine.

  Attached to the card was a gold Mickey Mouse pin. Fallon reached over and took the card from her.

  “I’m taking this with me. And don’t worry, I’ma have that heifer from last night’s job.” Fallon leaned over and kissed Paisley’s forehead.

  “Thanks, Fallon,” Paisley told her. “I still wanna get the hell out of here.”

  “You will, as soon as you’re well enough. But you gotta get some rest and heal first,” Seymone told her.

  “She’s right.” Fallon nodded. “Let me go handle this. By the time I get finished with them, your medical bills are gonna be on the house and they’ll be naming a damn wing after you.”

  Paisley laughed and felt a bit more at ease. She knew that Fallon may have sounded like she was joking, but she wasn’t. When Fallon meant business, she meant business, and she didn’t care who got offended, whose feelings got hurt, or who didn’t like it. And for that reason alone, those who knew her had no other choice but to respect her. She was a good person.

  “You want me to cut the television on?” Seymone asked.

  “No, I’m tired of hearing them talking about me like I’m the whore of Babylon. Are the reporters still lurking?” she asked.

  “Not as many as before,” Seymone told her. “You know how that goes, they’ve moved on to the next big story.”

  “Any word on Warren?”

  “I haven’t heard anything.”

  “I wanna know if he’s really okay. The only thing they are telling me is that he’s in critical condition. That’s not good enough.” Paisley sighed. She looked over at Seymone and told her, “Seymone, go tell the nurse you need a wheelchair.”

  “I don’t need a wheelchair.” Seymone frowned.

  “Not for you, retarded girl, for me. I want you to take me to see Warren.” Paisley sat up once again.

  “Uh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Pais. Just get one of the nurses here to go check on him for you,” Seymone suggested.

  “You know these heifers around here ain’t trying to do that. You think I haven’t heard them talking about me?”

  “For the right amount of money, girl, you know they’ll get his chart for you.”

  “Seymone, come on,” Paisley pleaded. “Just get the wheelchair and take me to see for myself. I need to see if he’s all right.”

  “What’s the deal with you and him?” Seymone asked. After the words escaped her lips, she took a step back. She had finally gathered the nerve to ask the question everyone had been wondering but no one had asked.

  “What do you mean? Ain’t nothing up with us. We’re friends,” Paisley snapped. “What? You thinking what everybody else is thinking? That I seduced him and caused this huge tragedy to happen upon him?” Paisley could feel tears forming, and she tried to wipe them before they fell. She lifted her left arm and nearly knocked herself out with the pink cast. “Dammit.”

  “Paisley, come on, you know I don’t think nothing like that. I’m your best friend and if no one else knows you, I do. You don’t seduce anyone unless they want to be seduced and this accident was just that, an accident. And it’s just as much a tragedy for you as it is anyone,” Seymone told her. Paisley looked at her best friend and saw that she was being sincere. “I was just curious because you’ve never mentioned that you even knew Warren Cobb.”

  “I guess it never came up,” Paisley told her. In reality, her friendship with Warren was something so precious that she kept near and dear to her heart, and she felt like sharing it with anyone would somehow cheapen it or make it seem wrong. It was the one part of her that was hers and hers alone. Like a secret place she could go that only she knew about. “I mean, it’s not like his name ever came up in general conversation or something.”

  “True,” was Seymone’s only response.

  “But, I just wanna see for myself that he’s all right. Please just get the wheelchair and take me.”

  Seymone hesitated and finally said, “You know this is a bad idea right? And what happens when Fallon comes back and finds us gone?”

  “We’ll be back by the time she gets back.”

  “Fine.” Seymone stood up. Paisley ran her fingers through her nine-hundred-dollar weave and prayed that her face was decent, even though she had no makeup on. If ever I needed Qianna Westbrooke, it’s right now, she thought about her makeup artist.

  A few minutes later, Seymone came through the door pushing a wheelchair. After giving Paisley a baseball cap and some big shades, she helped her ease into the chair and they were off. Seymone double-checked the hallway for the press hounds, and, being as inconspicuous as possible, they whizzed past the nurses’ station and into the elevator. The doors closed just as a few reporters in the waiting room realized that it was her and jumped up.

  “That’s what happens when you sleep on Paisley Lawrence.” They laughed and gave each other five.

  “What floor are we going to?” Seymone asked.

  “The nurse I had earlier told me he’s in ICU on the ninth floor,” Paisley answered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought it would jump out of her chest. Seymone pushed the button; the elevator jerked and Paisley’s stomach dropped. She didn’t know if it was from them suddenly going up, or from her nerves. They stopped and the doors opened. Without thinking, Seymone pushed her out.

  She didn’t check for the press, Paisley thought. She looked around and instantly saw the mass of people grouped in the hallway and waiting room of the surgical ICU area. Dressed in suits and dresses, she knew they had to be church members. A few people stared as they passed by.

  “Well, this is the right floor,” Seymone whispered.

  “You think?” Paisley hissed.

  “You know they’re not gonna let you see him in ICU. Only family is allowed.”

  “I just want to try. That’s the least I can do.”

  “I’m telling you, this is crazy. What room?”

  “Nine thirty-six, I think that’s what the nurse said.”

  “What do you mean, you think? What the hell?” Seymone started pushing faster.

  As they got closer, the crowd thinned and Paisley thought they were home free. Just as they were approaching the nurses’ area, Paisley reached down and grabbed the wheel, stopping the chair.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Before Paisley could answer, one of the women spoke.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Everyone turned and stared at Paisley and Seymone. Paisley’s eyes met Kollette’s and they stared at one another.

  “Sister Cobb, what’s the matter?” one of the ladies asked.

  “That’s her,” was Kollette’s answer.

  “It can’t be,” the lady said. “No one in their right mind would be disrespectful enough to come here to his room, knowin’ how sick Brother Cobb is.”

  “Well, I told y’all she was crazy, because here she is right now. Look,” Kollette told them. Paisley looked at the overweight, unattractive woman and started to say something. Instead, she just smiled.

  “She’s not crazy. This woman got out of her own hospital bed to come and pay her regards to Mr. Cobb,” Seymon
e responded.

  “Her regards aren’t welcome here.” The lady took a step toward them and Paisley tensed. She could feel the crowd closing in on them, and she knew the scene was about to get worse. Her eyes shifted toward the direction of Warren’s room.

  “I need you to leave right now! Security!”

  In a flash, two stout guys looking like bounty hunters were by Kollette’s side. They were dressed in all black, and neither looked too friendly. Paisley rolled her eyes at them, determined not to let them think she was intimidated by their presence.

  “Ladies, I think you two need to leave,” the first guy told them.

  “Look, we don’t want no trouble,” Seymone said.

  “No one said you did.” The second guy’s voice was so deep that a chill went down Paisley’s spine, and goose bumps formed on her arm. Even through her dark shades she could see the handsomeness of his expressionless face.

  “Come on, Ms. Lawrence, don’t cause a scene. You know things look bad enough as it is,” the first guy spoke softly.

  Paisley continued to stare as she said, “It seems funny how security flocks to her side when she calls, but when I needed you last night there was no one to be found.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the second security guard said. Again, the richness of his voice caught her off guard. “We’re personal security for Brother and Sister Cobb.”

  “I want her removed now!” Kollette snapped.

  Seymone grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and started backing out. The first security guard took a step toward them and offered to help.

  “I got it,” Seymone told him. He continued toward them and she jerked the chair as she pulled it. Just as she turned it around, a flash nearly blinded Paisley. She covered her face, using her bulky cast as a shield against the camera. They seemed to be coming from everywhere and swarmed upon them like buzzards. The two security men sprung into action, pushing back the paparazzi and demanding that they leave. Seymone tried to maneuver the wheelchair through the frenzy, but it was as if they were stuck. Paisley tried not to panic. There didn’t seem to be any way out.

  “See what you’ve caused!” Kollette yelled. She began crying hysterically. “All this is your fault; this madness, not to mention that my husband is laid up in a coma, is all because of you!”

  Uniformed security guards pushed their way through what was now a crowd, and tried to gain control of the situation. Seymone shook her head in disbelief. Kollette was escorted farther down the hallway by the two security men.

  “There’s no way outta here,” Seymone groaned.

  This is not good. God, please help us get up outta here, Paisley prayed, and tried to think. She glanced up and saw the door to Warren’s room open. The deep-voiced security guard stepped out and beckoned for them. Oh, hell no, she thought, and shook her head.

  “He wants us to come that way,” Seymone said, leaning over.

  “The elevator’s the other way. We’ll be trapped if we go that way,” Paisley told her.

  Seeing that they weren’t following his instructions, the guard came toward them. He grabbed the chair from Seymone and told her, “Come on.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Paisley growled.

  “Helping you find a way out of here,” he said, then turned to Seymone. “Follow me.”

  His strides were so long that Seymone could barely keep up with him down the hallway. He made a left turn down another corridor and kept moving. Paisley was quiet, hoping that he wasn’t some crazed man planning to kill them.

  “There’s a patient elevator this way,” he finally said, slowing down. Paisley spotted it and relaxed a bit. After checking that the coast was clear, he made sure they got on safely.

  “Thank you,” Seymone said.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said.

  Paisley removed her sunglasses and asked, “Can you tell me how Warren is? That’s all I was trying to do, get an update on him.”

  He stared at the floor and shrugged. “He’s stable.”

  “What does that mean? I need someone to give me more info than that. Hell, you’re in there with him when the doctors come in. What are they saying?”

  For the first time, he made eye contact with Paisley. “They’re saying pray.”

  The elevator doors closed, and again, Paisley’s stomach dropped. This time it was because, from the security guy’s tone, she knew there was a strong possibility that Warren might not make it.

  Fallon

  See, this is exactly why I don’t deal with a whole lot of people. The four clients I do have keep me running around enough. How hard is it to lay your ass in a hospital bed and stay there until I come back? Is that too much to ask? This situation that Paisley has gotten in is crazy enough without adding more issues for me to deal with. Here I am, handling business with the damn hospital suits, and security comes in telling me that Paisley’s ass is upstairs in ICU trying to see Warren Cobb and all hell is breaking loose. What the hell is she thinking?

  Fallon adjusted the blazer of her Donna Karan pantsuit and set off to find her most prized client and friend. For the past five years, she had been Paisley’s agent, and they had made more money than she could ever wish for. Paisley’s unforgettable looks, perfect statuesque body, sensuality, and natural ability to move in front of the camera combined with the business-savvy, industry-connected, no-nonsense Fallon resulted in a successful business partnership and win-win situation for them both. Together they had worked and built Paisley’s career and persona, known in the music industry as the “Sensual Seductress.” She had become a phenomenon in the music video industry and they both became very wealthy. They had never had a problem until now. It was as if the moment Chester had called and told her about the accident and who was involved, the floodgates opened and poured a PR nightmare into their lives.

  The nature of Paisley’s relationship with Warren Cobb seemed like something the world wanted to know; and something Fallon didn’t even know herself. She had held off giving a statement, waiting until she and Paisley had discussed the situation. The phone calls, e-mails, text messages, and voice mails were endless. For the most part, they were harmless. There were a couple that seemed a little over the top, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to get a message or two from an overzealous Paisley fan. It came with the territory. But there was something disturbing about one message in particular, especially after hearing about the man is Paisley’s room. She clicked on her BlackBerry and scrolled through the messages from Paisley’s fan site until she found the one she was looking for. The words seemed to leap from the small screen and she blinked as she read them:

  Paisley, your sleeping beauty will soon awaken in my arms and I will be by your side. I am right nearby and just a whisper of my name from your lips would make my day complete. In time.

  Chapter 5

  “Okay, diva, Seymone is waiting downstairs in the car. You ready to roll?” Paisley looked at Chester. “Do you really need to ask?”

  “Let me check you out.” He took a step back and gave Paisley the once over. Even after almost losing her life four days ago, she still looked fierce. He made sure she was picture perfect just in case a snapshot of her was taken during her exit. Paisley didn’t know what she would do without him. Qianna, her regular makeup artist, was booked, but he had beckoned for Camille, her protégée and one of the hottest new makeup artists at After Effex Salon, to come over and not only do her face, but give her a fresh manicure and pedicure as well.

  “Chester, I really think you’re going too far. I’m going straight home and I don’t think anyone is gonna notice my feet, especially since I’ll be wearing sneakers.” She looked down as Camille helped ease her feet into the fresh pair of white Nikes.

  “We’re not taking any chances,” Chester told her. “Besides, you know your nails and toes should always match, don’t trip.”

  “That is true.” Camille nodded.

  “Don’t encourage him, Camille. I didn’t
think there was much you could do with all these bruises and scratches on my face, but you worked it out, girl.” Paisley smiled at the pretty, young girl. The phone began ringing and Paisley stared at it.

  “I got it.” Camille reached over to answer it but Paisley emphatically stopped her.

  “No!”

  “Sorry, I forgot,” Camille apologized, and quickly snatched back her hand.

  “Let’s hurry up and get the hell outta here.” Paisley sighed. She was finally going home.

  Considering the lurking press, the crank phone calls, the stranger appearing in her hospital room in the middle of the night, and the chaos caused when she tried to visit Warren, the doctor agreed that Paisley would probably recover better away from the hospital. She remained in the hospital for two more days. Her friends made sure she was never alone, making her a bit more at ease. The nurse had just come and given Paisley her discharge paperwork when Fallon walked in, looking very much like Posh Spice in her cute dress, large sunglasses, and fly haircut, and made an unexpected announcement.

  “Warren Cobb regained consciousness.”

  Paisley was speechless. Her first instinct was to rush to see him, but that desire was instantly suppressed by the memory of Kollette calling security and having her escorted off the floor.

  “That’s great,” Chester remarked.

  “Wow,” Camille said. “That’s good news.”

  “I just got the call,” Fallon said, “and I wanted you to hear it from me rather than hearing it on the radio on the way home.”