Say It Ain't So Page 6

  Diesel had been developing plans for his nightclub for a couple of years now. His promotions company had grown and he had been waiting for the right time to make his move. A few months ago, the owner of State Streets approached him about possibly buying the club, and he knew it was just the opportunity he had been waiting for. He talked with his best friends, Scooter, who was a regional director for the YMCA, and Leo, who was a pharmacist, and they all decided to put up the money. As a silent partner, Paisley’s funds provided cushion money in case they needed backup funding.

  “How’s my baby doing?” Scooter asked. He was sitting at the bar of TGIF’s where they were meeting Leo for lunch.

  “She’s good. She says she’ll be good to go for the opening.” Diesel sat on the barstool next to him.

  “So, is it true? Is she really sleeping with Warren Cobb?”

  Diesel looked over at Scooter and replied, “In my opinion, hell no. But you know Paisley. If she was, she’ll never tell and we’ll never know.”

  “She is the seductress, with her fine ass,” Scooter told him. “I just don’t understand.”

  “Understand what?” Diesel said after getting the bartender’s attention and ordering a beer.

  “Why she would never give a brother like me a second look. Hell, I look better than Warren Cobb.”

  “Maybe, but unlike you, Paisley doesn’t think Warren Cobb is an asshole.” Diesel laughed so hard he nearly choked on his beer. He was so busy trying to breathe that he didn’t notice the strange look on Scooter’s face.

  “He who laughs last, laughs best,” Scooter told him. “We’ll see who the last man smiling is.”

  Warren Cobb will probably be smiling long after you will, friend, Diesel thought.

  Chapter 6

  “Come on, Paisley, I’m ready to go.” Warren held out his hand and Paisley tried to reach for it, but her legs ached and buckled under her. She tried to stand as he helped her up, but the pain was unbearable. She couldn’t get up.

  “Warren, I can’t move,” she cried out.

  “I can’t wait, I have to go,” Warren told her.

  Paisley reached out to him, pleading for him to take her with him, but he walked away, leaving her sprawled in the middle of her bedroom floor. She was crumbled, devastated that he was gone. Suddenly, she felt another presence in the room. She could hear someone breathing and she smelled the strong scent of cologne. It was the same scent she smelled that night at the hospital.

  “Warren, Warren, Warren!”

  Paisley’s eyes opened and she glanced around the dark room. She had been dreaming, but she knew someone had been there in her room.

  “Paisley, are you all right?” Seymone came rushing in.

  “Seymone, someone was in here. They were here, in my room!” Paisley told her, sitting up and reaching for the lamp on her nightstand.

  “What?” Seymone asked, rubbing her eyes.

  “Here, in my room,” Paisley repeated. “I could feel them. I could hear them breathing in the dark. And I could smell them. Don’t you smell that?”

  Seymone inhaled and nodded, “Smells like cheap cologne. Maybe . . .”

  “Maybe nothing. You know the only men who have been in here today are Chester and Diesel. And they don’t wear cheap cologne.” Paisley’s heart began pounding. “It was him, I know it was.”

  Seymone spotted something in the corner and frowned. She walked over, reached down, and picked up a rubber band–wrapped stack of fan mail that Paisley was sorting earlier.

  “See,” Paisley said, “that mail was on my desk and you know it. Someone was in here and they were going through my shit!”

  “I’m calling the police.”

  Paisley began shaking from a combination of pain and fear. Her body ached and mental exhaustion sank in. It was too much for her to bear. “How the hell did someone get in my house?”

  “I don’t know,” Seymone answered, hurrying over to the nightstand and grabbing the phone. “But we’ll find out.”

  “This is crazy.” Paisley shook her head in disbelief. She twisted her body in an effort to get out of bed, but was stopped by the pain. “Dammit!”

  Seymone gave the address of the house and then said, “I’m going to make sure the doors are locked!”

  “It’s a little too damned late for that!”

  “I don’t want him to come back in.”

  “He was already in! He may still be in! Don’t leave me in here by myself!”

  The two women went back and forth, both of them in a panic, trying to figure out the best thing to do.

  “I’m calling Chester.” Paisley took the phone from her. “I’ma tell him to come over here. We need a man in the house.”

  “Chester? Paisley, for real.” Seymone looked at her like she was crazy. “You know Chester can’t protect us from nothing but . . . bad fashion ideas!”

  Paisley couldn’t help laughing. She knew Seymone was right. Chester would’ve been just as scared as they were. She hung the phone up before he answered.

  “Shh. You hear that?” Paisley listened more closely.

  “I think it’s the doorbell,” Seymone replied.

  Bam, bam, bam!

  The knocking coming from downstairs caused both of them to jump.

  “That’s probably the police.” Seymone turned to head out the door.

  “Wait!” Paisley hissed. “What if it’s not? He may have come back. Don’t leave me!”

  “It’s not him!”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because his ass wasn’t polite enough to knock the last time he came in. Why would he knock now?” Seymone said matter-of-factly.

  Bam, Bam, Bam!

  The knocking got louder.

  “Let me go let them in,” Seymone said.

  “At least help me down the steps. I don’t wanna stay up here alone.”

  Seymone gave an exasperated sigh and walked over to the bed. “Fine.”

  Paisley moaned as she rolled her legs over the side of the bed and wobbled to stand up. She leaned onto her friend, and they made their way out of the room. They barely made it into the hallway when the phone began ringing.

  “This isn’t gonna work,” Seymone said. They made their way back and Paisley got back into bed.

  “I gotta get downstairs before they break the door down,” Seymone said, and rushed out.

  Paisley snatched the ringing cordless phone and answered it.

  “Hello.”

  “Who the hell called me and hung up?” Chester demanded. “I am entertaining and I don’t have time to be playing on the phone.”

  “It was me. Someone broke in,” Paisley told him.

  “What? I’m on my way,” he said, and hung up.

  Paisley looked around her room. It was what she considered her sanctuary, large and open with a connected sitting room, complete with a fireplace. Her king-sized, brass bed sat in the center of the room, held up by four tall bedposts. The walls held a plasma television, surround sound speakers, and large framed black-and-white, poster-sized photos of Paisley on the covers of various magazines, and still shots. She had decorated the room in blues and greens, which were calming and soothing. The last thing she felt at the moment was calm. She felt violated. She strained as she rose out of bed and peaked out of her window into the street below. An unfamiliar black Jaguar was easing past her house. She tried to see the license plate number, but it was too dark.

  After what seemed like hours, Seymone finally called up the steps, “Paisley, the officers wanna talk to you. Can I bring them up?”

  “Yeah,” Paisley told her. She adjusted the shirt of the gray lounging outfit she wore, making sure she was decent.

  Seymone walked in, followed by two uniformed officers; a man and a woman.

  “How ya doing, Ms. Lawrence,” the brown-skinned man asked. “I’m officer Mike Jenson. This is my partner, Dorian Bell.”

  The pretty, light-skinned woman smiled and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you. We underst
and that the intruder actually came into your bedroom?”

  “Yeah, he was in here.” Paisley nodded.

  “You said it was a he, can you describe him?” Officer Jenson asked, taking a small notepad from his pocket and writing in it.

  “Not really, it was dark. I didn’t see him this time,” Paisley replied.

  “This time? He’s been here before?” Officer Bell frowned.

  Paisley explained the incident in the hospital room and the hang-up calls she had received. “I don’t even understand how he got in here.”

  “From what we can tell, it looks as if someone came through the utility room door. We’ll process downstairs for prints and we’ll do the same thing in here,” Officer Jenson told her.

  “There was a black Jaguar driving past right after we called you. That may have been him,” Paisley told them.

  “Did you get a good look at the driver or a tag number?”

  “No, I tried, but I couldn’t.”

  “Black Jaguars aren’t that unusual in this neighborhood, but we’ll check it out.”

  Paisley nodded. Chester had arrived and was in her room on the phone with Fallon when the officers finished up.

  “I’m here, she’s fine. I don’t know,” he said into the phone, sitting on her bed. “Fallon says she and Gotti are on their way.”

  “Tell her she doesn’t have to come all the way over here.” Paisley sighed. It was after two in the morning and she was exhausted. She didn’t see the need for Fallon to drag herself out of bed along with her fiancé, Gotti, just to stand watch over her.

  “Uh, we’ll call you back,” Chester said, glancing up at the officers as they walked into the bedroom.

  “Ms. Lawrence, do you have anywhere you can stay tonight?” Officer Bell asked as she came into the room.

  “I’m not leaving my home,” Paisley stated.

  “Look, under the circumstances, I suggest you not stay here until either we find this person, or you get some type of security system,” Officer Jenson told her.

  “I’ve been telling her to get an alarm system for months now.” Chester shook his head.

  “Paisley rolled her eyes at him, then told the police, “Thanks. I’ll call the security company tomorrow and have them come out. But I’m not having this man drive me out of my home.”

  “I understand how you feel.” Officer Bell gave her an empathetic look. “But right now, it’s not safe.”

  “My cousin is here with me now. I think we’ll be all right with a male in the house,” Paisley told her. All eyes turned to Chester, sitting on the bed in his yellow plaid pajama bottoms, leather slippers, and “My boyfriend loves me and so does yours” T-shirt. His massive afro was tied in a black satin doo rag, tied at the back of his head.

  “Are you trying to be funny?” he asked Paisley.

  “No,” Paisley told him. “Can’t you spend the night?”

  “I guess so.” He shrugged.

  “Oh God, we’re dead.” Seymone shook her head.

  “We’ll make sure there are extra patrolmen in the area and keep an eye out,” Office Jenson assured her.

  “Here’s my card.” Officer Bell passed her the small card. “Call me if you need me.”

  Paisley thanked them and Seymone walked them out.

  “Guess we’ll be having a slumber party.” Chester smiled. “Good thing this bed is big enough for all three of us.”

  A couple of days later, Paisley was hooked up with the latest and greatest alarm system, and moving around more easily. Fallon had just arrived with lunch for everyone from Paisley’s favorite deli, and they were about to eat when Seymone’s cell phone rang.

  “I’ll take this in the other room.” Seymone looked at it and hopped up from the table.

  “She’s really been there for you, huh?” Fallon smiled. “I knew Seymone wasn’t gonna desert you in your time of need.”

  “It’s only been a week.” Paisley opened the top on her chicken Caesar salad and covered it with dressing. “You act like she’s been here for months.”

  “Damn, Paisley, give the girl some credit. She left her fiancé in ATL, in the middle of planning their wedding and building their house, and has been here.”

  “I didn’t know she was doing all that. Seymone hasn’t mentioned anything about her wedding or a house since she’s been here.” Paisley stopped mid-bite and frowned.

  “She probably hasn’t had the time to think about it with everything that’s going on.” Fallon shrugged. “She hasn’t really said anything to me about it either. She just mentioned it the other day when I was telling her about the bachelorette parties people have at The Playground. Speaking of which, have you started looking for a substitute until you get back on your feet?”

  Paisley shook her head. She knew she had been neglecting her business and she needed to get it together. But between dealing with the intruder in her home and worrying about Warren, The Playground wasn’t at the top of her priority list. “I can’t even think about that right now. I tried calling the hospital and speaking to Warren, but they wouldn’t put me through to his room. I know he’s not in ICU anymore. He’s in a regular room.”

  “Yeah, they moved him yesterday. He’s much better.”

  “How do you know? Where the hell are you getting your information from?” Paisley asked.

  “Ebonie told me. She called to see how you were doing and compare some press information that she had.” Fallon reached toward the middle of the table and grabbed a napkin.

  “Did she say if Warren admitted to knowing me?”

  “No, he still says he doesn’t know who you are or why you were together. He doesn’t remember anything about the accident, going to a bar, nothing. As a matter of fact, Ebonie says Warren doesn’t even drink,” Fallon told her.

  “He’s lying.” Paisley sat back and stared at her in amazement.

  “I get the feeling that Ebonie knows he’s lying too,” Fallon said, sounding more like a black girl from the hood than the white girl she was.

  “Really?” Paisley’s eyes widened. “How so?”

  “Something about the way she talks about him and you. It’s like she knows that there’s something up with his story. Then again, Paisley, this convenient bout of amnesia may be her idea. It’s her job to protect his career at all costs. Saying he doesn’t know you is the perfect explanation.”

  “For him, not for me. Nothing happened between us, Fallon. You know if it did, after all this, I woulda told you. If nothing else, we always agreed to be honest with each other.”

  “I know, Paisley. And I hear what you’re saying.”

  “Why does it sound like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere? What?”

  “I went by Charley’s and the waitress told me that you two clearly were together. She also told me that unlike Warren, you didn’t have anything to drink. Why didn’t you tell me that Warren had been drinking?”

  “He wasn’t drunk.” Paisley began fumbling with her salad.

  “Even still, it was something you should’ve let me know. We need all the pertinent information we can get regarding this, Paisley. We don’t know how Ebonie and Warren’s record label are going to try to carry this.” Fallon gave her a smug look. “And you know me, I have no problem leaking info that Ebonie damn sure don’t want to let get out.”

  “No,” Paisley said emphatically. “I don’t want you to leak anything.”

  “We don’t know how they’re gonna try and play this out. We gotta be ready to fight fire with fire,” Fallon replied.

  “There’s not going to be a fight. Warren won’t let it get that far,” Paisley said assuringly.

  “You don’t know that. And I’m just gonna let you know that not only am I your friend, but I’m your manager. I’ve always made the best decisions where your career is concerned and I’m not gonna stop now because you’re more worried about what Warren Cobb is going to say.”

  Paisley looked Fallon in the eye and the two stared, neither one saying a word for a mo
ment. Only time would tell which one would be the victor in this argument.

  “Don’t make me fire you.” Paisley knew she had to say something to make Fallon see how serious she was.

  She was stunned when Fallon responded by saying, “Don’t make me quit.”

  Chapter 7

  “Paisley, telephone,” Seymone said as she walked into the room. Paisley was so into The Young and the Restless that she didn’t feel like talking on the phone.

  “Take a message,” Paisley said.

  “I think you wanna take this one,” Seymone said, walking in and passing her the phone. “It’s important.”

  “Hello.”

  “Ms. Lawrence, this is Becca. I’m calling from Dr. Singleton’s office. You missed your appointment this morning, so I was calling to reschedule.” The woman was so perky that it was irritating. “Can you come in tomorrow?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m really not up to it,” Paisley told her. “I have some personal issues I’m dealing with and I have to call you later next week sometime.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. I understand. I hope things get better for you and I’ll talk to you next week,” Becca told her.

  “Why don’t you wanna go to the doctor?” Seymone asked.

  “I don’t feel like it,” she told her. “I just wanna stay in bed.”