Say It Ain't So

by La Jill Hunt

  “Good morning, ladies. Am I interrupting?” Jimmy asked.

  Paisley walked around her desk and gave Jimmy a big hug. “Jimmy, I’m glad to see you!”

  Fallon also didn’t hesitate in getting up and hugging him. “Me too!”

  “Now that’s the kind of welcome I like to get from my favorite clients.” Jimmy smiled.

  “That’s the kind of welcome you probably get from all your clients.” Fallon playfully hit his shoulder.

  “OK, well, you’re the sexiest.” He winked.

  “That I definitely agree with.” Paisley nodded.

  “And who is this lovely young lady?” Jimmy gestured toward Ebonie.

  Paisley shook her head at Ebonie, who was now blushing. “Guess what, Jimmy? This is Warren Cobb’s publicist, Ebonie Monroe.”

  The smile that Jimmy wore quickly faded into a look of concern. “Warren Cobb’s publicist.”

  “Ex-publicist,” Ebonie corrected him as she stood up. “I was graciously fired Saturday night. Nice to meet you.”

  Jimmy shook Ebonie’s extended hand. “Likewise. In my client’s best interest, I do need to know your reason for being here.”

  “I don’t really know.” Ebonie shrugged as she sat back down. “I guess I’m here to help her.”

  “Help in what capacity?” Jimmy asked. “And don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to be facetious in any way. But you have to realize my skepticism. You’re sitting here in Paisley’s office offering to help when, up until forty-eight hours ago, you worked for the man who is publicly attacking her with malicious allegations.”

  “I understand, and that’s why I am here. The reason I was fired was due to the fact that I refused to assist Warren’s crazy wife, Kollette, with her plans to publicly humiliate Paisley,” Ebonie said matter-of-factly.

  Paisley looked at Fallon, who was looking at Jimmy. She cleared her throat and shook her head at her friend, and wondered if she had heard anything Ebonie had just said. “Ebonie, can you please excuse us for a minute?”

  “Sure,” Ebonie said.

  Just as she was about to walk out of Paisley’s office, Landon walked in.

  “Ebonie, what are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I could ask you the same question,” Paisley quickly answered. “I thought you quit.”

  “I didn’t say I quit, did I?” he replied, and then asked, “Where’s Seymone?”

  “You left,” Paisley snapped, “and so did she!”

  “And when I came back, you were gone. As a matter of fact, you didn’t come home at all. And when I tried to call you, you didn’t answer.” Landon walked closer to Paisley. “I shouldn’t be surprised, though. I think we all are pretty used to your not answering your phone when you’re too busy. We all learned that Saturday night.”

  Although Landon was right and she had ignored all of his calls and text messages, it didn’t make her any less angry that he had left her house with no explanation. She really did think that he had quit, and not only was she afraid because that meant that she would be alone at home, but she was hurt because she thought he had honestly cared about her well-being. But, obviously not, because she and Killa had spent the night with Chester.

  “What is that supposed to mean? I don’t care . . .” Paisley began yelling. How dare this fool come in here and try to clown me like this. I will go off up in here! I’m already one palm away from slapping someone and he just stepped up to volunteer!

  “Okay, why don’t we all calm down,” Fallon suggested.

  “That’s a good idea,” Jimmy agreed. “Ebonie, go ahead and wait outside. Landon come on in.”

  Landon closed the door, and and Fallon introduced him to Jimmy as he took the seat Ebonie left vacant.

  “All right, so what’s going on with you? We got too many other issues to deal with right now than dealing with you and Paisley going back and forth,” Fallon spoke.

  “I’m not going back and forth.” Paisley sat on the edge of her desk. “Landon left by choice and he’s free to do so now. According to him, I don’t even need security because Warren and I were just using him as part of some kind of game we were playing. Isn’t that what you said, Landon? I don’t even know why he’s here now.”

  “Obviously he’s here because he cares,” Jimmy said, “and it doesn’t matter why. The press is gonna be hounding you in the next few hours and his being here is probably a good thing.”

  There was a knock on the door and Seymone’s head came peeking in. “Paisley?”

  “Well, well, well, look who else—” Paisley started, but was interrupted.

  “Don’t,” Fallon warned, giving Paisley an ugly look. She beckoned for Seymone to come in. “Hey, Seymone.”

  “Good morning,” Seymone greeted them. “What’s up, Jimmy?”

  Jimmy didn’t hesitate giving Seymone a big hug. “Man, you look good!”

  “Whatever, Jimmy. I know I’m fat,” Seymone laughed.

  “Yeah, p-h-a-t!” Jimmy told her.

  Paisley glanced over at Landon and saw a strange look on his face as he watched Seymone and Jimmy. He looked as if he wanted to stand up and come between them. I know he’s not jealous, Paisley thought. Why would he be jealous of Jimmy? Oh my God, he’s feeling Seymone! He didn’t come back here for me; he came back here for her!

  “Did you all know the photogs are out front already?” Seymone asked. “There were a couple snapping away when I was coming in.”

  “I didn’t think you’d show, either,” Paisley said.

  “Anyway, I got a class to get ready for.” Seymone glared. “Nice to see you again, Jimmy.”

  “I’ll go make sure everything’s secure,” Landon hopped up and said, following Seymone out the door.

  I’ll bet, Paisley thought.

  “So, what’s the deal with Ms. Monroe?” Jimmy asked.

  “I don’t know.” Fallon shrugged. “She seems sincere, I guess.”

  “Exactly what does she know? She mentioned Warren’s wife planning something. What did she mean by that?” Jimmy sat down.

  “Jimmy, you’re asking us questions we really don’t know the answer to.” Paisley was becoming frustrated. “You should be asking Ebonie Monroe that.”

  “You’re right, and I’ll do just that. Let me ask you something that I’m sure you know the answer to. The picture of you and Warren, is it real?”

  “Yeah,” Paisley admitted, “but it’s so old. It’s from like ninety-seven.”

  “Where did this picture come from?” Fallon asked her.

  “I don’t know.” Paisley shrugged. “I swear.”

  “Did Warren have a copy?” Jimmy asked.

  Paisley tried to remember if he did. “I don’t know. But even if he does, why would he do this? It’s more harmful to him than it is me.”

  Fallon’s and Jimmy’s phones began ringing at the same time. They both looked down at them.

  “It’s a text,” Fallon said, looking at Paisley, “from you.”

  “What?” Paisley grabbed the phone from her. She opened the text message and, to her horror, there was another picture of her and Warren, taken the same night as the one that was shown on television the night before. This one was even more revealing than the first. Oh my God, this can’t be happening, Paisley thought. The memory of that night came flooding back to her. It was his birthday. Before she was the Sensual Seductress and he was the Prince of Praise. A night when she was Paisley, a dancer at the club trying to figure out how to pay for college, and he was Warren, a struggling singer trying to catch a break in the music industry . . .

  Warren was the one and only man she had met at the club she had ever let into the tiny apartment she called home. She had cooked dinner for him and even bought a small cake. After dinner, they sat in the middle of her bed, as she was helping him write lyrics for a new song.

  “How about I can’t do anything without thinking about you-I yearn for you, yes I do,” Paisley suggested.

  “You know that’s kinda corny,
Pais. But I like it.” He shrugged. “What about My every thought is filled with you-my love for you is strong and true.”

  Warren’s melodic voice caused chill bumps on her arms. She stared at him and smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

  “I meant that too.” Warren put his guitar down beside him and pulled her to him. “I think about you all the time, and I love you.”

  His sudden confession made Paisley’s heart beat fast. Although it wasn’t the first time a man had said those words to her, it was the first time she knew that he meant it. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice; she could feel it in his touch and taste it in his kiss. She had no doubt in her mind that Warren loved her. She put her forehead against his and kissed him tenderly.

  “Tell me your fantasy,” she whispered.

  He brushed the hair out of her face and smiled. “You’re my fantasy.”

  “Don’t even try it. You’re not getting off that easy.” She slowly kissed all over his face. “Tell me.”

  “I’m thinking.”

  Paisley began licking his neck. “Tell me. I want to know. Close your eyes and tell me what you see.”

  Warren’s breathing became heavy, and he finally said, “Janet, the cover of Rolling Stone.”

  Paisley laughed, “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” He nodded. “But instead of Janet’s face, it’s yours.”

  “Interesting.” Paisley winked. “You know I have a camera and a tripod.”

  Warren looked at her seductively. “I can have my own private photo shoot for my birthday?”

  Paisley nodded. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  She set up the camera in her living room and changed into a worn pair of Guess jeans and a bra. She unloosed her curly hair and put a small mole on her face, a la Janet Jackson.

  “OK, Rene, you can come out now,” she called to him.

  Warren walked out of the bedroom, asking, “Rene?”

  “Rene Elizondo, Janet’s ex. Those are his hands covering her breasts in the photo,” Paisley informed him.

  “Well, I don’t wanna be your ex, but Lord knows I want my hands covering these in our photo.” Warren cupped Paisley’s breasts and sucked her neck.

  “Let’s get started then, Birthday Boy!”

  The Bishop

  I’m trying to not become frustrated and do anything that will possibly jeopardize my position, my ministry, and most of all, my place in heaven, but at this point, I’m on the brink. I’ve sat back and said nothing for too long and this entire situation has gotten out of hand. If I don’t step in and do something, everything I’ve worked hard for will be gone, and I refuse to let the fruits of my labor be destroyed. No way, no how. The years I’ve spent working, preaching, teaching, building, and establishing is just a foundation for the goals I have planned. This is just the beginning and I don’t care how much devotion Kollette has to her successful husband, the future of this ministry will not be jeopardized by his inability to sever his ties with some random video chick from his past. I don’t care how sexy she is. And Lord knows, that woman is sexy. The tabloids certainly weren’t lying when they called her breathtaking because I had to catch my breath when I came face to face with her. Nonetheless, she ain’t worth my losing everything over. This situation has gotten out of hand and this was not how things were supposed to turn out, not by a long shot.

  “Well, Sister Ebonie, how are you today?” The bishop’s voice boomed across the parking lot of the building where he knew she lived. From the way she jumped, he knew he had startled the attractive woman with whom he had worked closely over the past few years.

  “Bishop Arnold.” She smiled nervously. “I . . . How . . . I’m fine.”

  “That’s good to hear,” the bishop smiled as he stepped closer to her. “Can I speak with you a few minutes?”

  Ebonie hesitated for a few moments, and then said, “Yes, sir. What can I help you with?”

  “I just have a few concerns. It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve decided to resign.” The bishop casually leaned on the sleek, silver Infinity M35 that Ebonie drove. A classy car for a classy woman.

  “And who told you that, Bishop? Let me guess, Kollette, right?”

  Bishop Arnold shook his head. “No, it wasn’t Kollette at all. Neil was the one who delivered the disappointing news to me.”

  “Neil,” Ebonie sighed. “And he said that I resigned? OK.”

  “Was Neil wrong in telling me that?”

  “Yes, he was wrong. I didn’t resign, I was fired,” Ebonie told him.

  “Fired? By whom?” The bishop frowned as he loosened the knot of his tie.

  “Bishop, let me ask you a question. Who hired me to work for the ministry?” Ebonie asked.

  “I did,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “And who gave me the assignment to personally handle Warren Cobb when they realized the potential that his future held?” Ebonie continued.

  “That was me.” The bishop nodded.

  “Whenever there was an issue or concern regarding a situation or project that would directly affect the Ministry, who did I address those concerns with?”

  “Again, me.”

  “Now, Bishop, considering the fact that I’ve been a member of your staff for the past seven-and-a-half years, and we’ve never uttered a cross word to each other, do you think that I would resign and not have enough respect for you to give proper notice?”

  The bishop considered what Ebonie was asking and slowly answered, “I would think not. But a lot has transpired in the past few days, and I don’t know what to think. I believe we are all being tested in some way, and some of us have been placed in some uncomfortable situations that we have to deal with. Jumping ship because it looks like it’s sinking may be your reaction. And I understand that.”

  “Be real, Bishop Arnold, if I was gonna run from this situation, I would’ve done so the night that Warren was in the accident,” Ebonie told him. “That makes no sense.”

  “Neither does your going to Paisley Lawrence’s studio either, but isn’t that where you’re coming from?” The bishop stood back and waited for Ebonie to answer.

  Ebonie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Were you following me, Bishop?”

  “Not at all, I happened to notice your car in the parking lot.” He shrugged.

  “I don’t believe you.” Ebonie shook her head. “Paisley’s studio is all the way on the other side of town, past the warehouse district.”

  “I know where her studio is located. What I don’t know is why you were there.”

  “I was there meeting with Paisley and her publicist,” Ebonie answered.

  “There was no need for you to meet with them, especially now. I hope you’re not trying to, how should I put this, switch teams, Ebonie. That wouldn’t be a wise move on your part at all,” he warned her. “You’re a smart girl, and I know you remember that when you were hired, you signed a confidentiality agreement. Anything regarding Warren Cobb or the Ministry that conveniently gets ‘leaked’ and traced back to you would be detrimental.”

  “For who?” Ebonie asked, staring the bishop down.

  “Anyone involved,” the bishop answered.

  “Bishop Arnold, you’re right, I am a smart girl. You know why? Because when you said you wanted to speak to me for a few minutes, I thought it was to apologize on behalf of the Ministry for the unwarranted dismissal I was given Saturday night, and to tell me it was all a misunderstanding. You know that I was fired, and you know who fired me.

  “My reason for going over to Paisley’s studio to meet with her and her publicist this morning was to see if I could possibly deter them from seeking legal action against Kollette for slander and defamation of character which, by the way, if they don’t, they’d be crazy. I’m well aware of the confidentiality statement I signed and don’t worry, I don’t plan on saying a word. Even though she suspects that you’re the one stalking her, and I’m inclined to believe the same thing, I won’t say a word ab
out the items that were charged to the Ministry that were sent to her house, I won’t dare say anything about the background check that was done on her by the Ministry and the ‘dirt’ you tried to find. And most of all, I won’t mention the sad fact that while you’re worried about Warren causing damage to the Ministry, the reality is that you don’t have the balls to be honest and stand up to Kollette, who’s causing all of this. She and Neil, screwing and scheming.”

  “What are you talking about?” The bishop raised his voice in distress, shocked by everything Ebonie said.

  “Kollete, your niece, is sleeping with your so-called ‘beloved son’ and has been for years. She’s evil and insecure, and because of her, the Ministry is gonna fester from the inside out. Lying on national television about having cancer, of all things, and you’re just gonna stand by and watch. She’s such a waste on so many levels, but that’s no longer my issue.”

  “Ebonie,” the Bishop said as he looked around the parking lot, “maybe we need to go in and discuss this further.”

  “We don’t need to discuss anything, Bishop. Your secrets are safe with me, it’s the others you need to worry about because they’re the ones who are gonna bring you down.”

  Bishop Arnold watched as Ebonie Monroe walked away. Anger and confusion engulfed him as he reached into his suit pocket and took out his cell phone. How could Kollette do a thing like this after all I’ve done for her? And Neil, who I opened my heart and my home to when he was just a boy living on the streets. Have I really been that naïve that this has been going on and I haven’t realized it?

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Meet me at my office,” the bishop said into the phone.

  “I have some things going on right now. Can it be later?” Neil asked. The bishop heard Kollette laughing in the background and it angered him even more.

  “Thirty minutes!” he yelled, and hung up.

  The confidence he’d had when he pulled into the parking lot behind Ebonie was now gone, replaced by disgust and doubt. He was all set to handle the situation, but now realized that it was so out of control, this one would definitely be left up to God.