Say It Ain't So

by La Jill Hunt

  “I wouldn’t have to look at them. If I’m still in love with my ex, she’s in my mind and I know what she looks like. I think about her all the time. Her image is etched in my mind. The pictures are just a bonus for every now and then.”

  “Damn, now that makes sense,” Chester agreed.

  Landon, who had been quiet the entire time, suddenly stood up. “I got a run to make. Can you guys stick around until I get back?”

  “What’s wrong?” Seymone looked disappointed.

  “I just gotta go handle something right quick.” Landon looked over at her and touched her hand. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Paisley.

  “Go ahead, man. We ain’t going nowhere and we’ll make sure Paisley doesn’t, either,” Scooter assured him.

  “Thanks.” Landon nodded.

  “Landon, you think I can get a ride to the hotel?” Seymone asked.

  “Sure, you ready?” Landon turned around.

  “Let me just grab my bag,” Seymone said.

  “OK.” Paisley gave her a hug. I wonder if Seymone is just trying to get some alone time with Landon? She started to ask her if there was some sort of ulterior motive to asking him for a ride, but she didn’t.

  “Paisley, I need to leave, too. I’ll call you later and check on you.” Evan said.

  “I’d like that.” Paisley walked him to the door and kissed him good-bye. When she returned into the kitchen, Scooter was sitting alone.

  “So,” Scooter asked when they were alone, “what’s up with you and the doctor, Paisley?”

  “What? There you go.” Paisley rolled her eyes at him. “Nothing.”

  “Okay, nothing,” Scooter said sarcastically.

  “We’re just friends,” Paisley said.

  “For now.” Scooter shook his head. “I knew I shoulda gone to medical school.”

  The doorbell rang and Chester’s voice sang, “I’ll get it. Feel free to clear the table and do the dishes.”

  Paisley picked up some of the plates and walked into the kitchen. Her thoughts turned to Evan as she began running a sink of warm dishwater.

  “Paisley, someone’s here to see you,” Chester said as he walked into the kitchen.

  “Mama,” she said slowly, seeing her mother standing beside Chester, impeccably dressed in a dark gray pantsuit and black heels. I wonder if that’s how I’ll look in twenty-five years?

  “Hey, Paisley,” her mother said.

  “What are you doing here? Where’s Daddy?” Paisley asked.

  “I came alone. He’s at home,” her mother told her. Paisley glanced over at Chester, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent.

  “Oh.” Paisley became nervous. “I guess you’re here . . . because . . .”

  “I’m here because you need me,” her mother sighed. “I’m here because I’m your mother and despite everything that’s gone on between us, I’m here because I love you, Paisley.”

  “Huh?” Paisley looked at her strangely. This wasn’t like Emma Jean at all, and she had to wonder if it was some sort of practical joke.

  “She’s here to support her daughter,” Chester said matterof-factly.

  Paisley looked at her mother, who gave her a smile.

  What the hell, Paisley thought. OK, I know I’m tripping because Emma Jean Lawrence hasn’t smiled at me since I was fifteen and won an award at the Rotary Club luncheon. She looked into her mother’s eyes and saw something that she hadn’t seen in years . . . love.

  Neil

  A’ight. I’ll be the first to admit that I fucked up. I mean, I fucked up big time. I don’t know what I was thinking agreeing to even be a part of this shit. At first, when Kollette called me and told me about Warren being in an accident and in a coma and shit, I was afraid he was gonna die, just like everyone else. I mean, Warren is my nigga. He’s a cool dude and I like him. I was just as surprised as everyone else that he was driving a car with fine-ass Paisley Lawrence inside.

  Believe it or not, that brought me a little bit of relief due to the fact that I’d been fucking Kollette for the past eight years. Well, to be honest, we started fucking back in high school and we’ve never stopped. The whole reason she married Warren all those years ago was to make me jealous, but it didn’t work. How could I be jealous when, number one, I knew he didn’t love her and he married her out of need, and number two, she was still sleeping with me whenever I wanted it.

  Kollette ain’t the best looking broad on the block, but believe me, she gives the greatest head a man could ever want. Her nickname in high school was “Slurpee” because those huge lips can slurp around a man’s Johnson like no one else. She’s also dumb as a damn brick, which is why I convinced her to talk my beloved father into backing Warren’s singing career. He’s always had a soft spot for her ugly ass, and I often wondered if she was sucking him off, too. Sure enough, the bishop obliged, Warren blew up, we all got paid, and life was pretty damn sweet until the damn accident.

  When Kollette found out about it, she was pissed. Her dumb ass actually thought about leaving Warren until I reminded her that he was the bread and butter we were living off of. Instead, I told her to think before doing something irrational. Kollette was the typical woman scorned and she wasn’t even concerned with whether Warren was having an affair.

  All her dumb ass was worried about was retaliation against Paisley Lawrence. So, one night, she convinced me to sneak into Paisley’s hospital room and check her out. Fine with me, I wanted to see Paisley’s fine ass anyway. So I headed down to her floor, grabbed a face mask off a nearby cart, and went into her room. Damn, she was so beautiful. I stared at her for what seemed like hours; until she woke up.

  She started panicking and I hauled ass outta there. I told Kollette how scared Paisley was when she woke up and saw me standing at the end of her bed, and she thought it was hilarious. So much so that she wanted to scare her even more. Imagine my surprise when she reached into her purse and pulled out a BlackBerry and a set of keys and told me that the police recovered them from the accident scene and gave them to her thinking that they were Warren’s. They were, in fact, Paisley’s.

  At that moment, it became Kollette’s goal in life to make Paisley Lawrence go crazy. I don’t know why I agreed to go along with the plan, other than the fact that it was kind of a turn on to think that I had access to Paisley’s private life. I wanted to see more of her. I thought of her lying in bed, looking like a chocolate Sleeping Beauty and I wanted to see more. Kollette’s goal was to somehow drive Paisley crazy, my goal was to watch her, be near her. It became a fundamental desire for me. I can’t explain it. To me, it wasn’t stalking; it was fulfilling a request given by a friend in need. In a way, I was saving Warren’s marriage. I was making his wife happy.

  The first time I slipped into Paisley’s house, no one was home. She hadn’t even been released from the hospital. I used her key and let myself in. Her immaculate home was so huge that it took me nearly three hours to explore it. Each time I went, I took a memento: a Juicy Couture bracelet—which would come in handy when I dropped off the dog exactly like the one in a picture with Paisley when she was little, that I came across in her desk drawer, a rhinestone studded tank top with the logo from her studio, a silver business card holder, and of course, a pair of lacy underwear from her drawer; little things that wouldn’t be obvious.

  Finding out that Warren hired Landon Malone to act as Paisley’s personal security was a surprise of sorts. When I asked him about his decision, he brushed me off, telling me I was getting a little too personal. He was so cavalier and condescending when he said it that I didn’t know whether to be pissed or hurt. Granted, I was fucking his wife, but I still felt like we were friends. How could he treat me like I was a member of his random entourage?

  Warren Malone had gotten above himself and he needed to be taken down a notch or two. I convinced Kollette that we could take Warren’s apparent relationship with Paisley to a whole other level, exposing it as an affair, presenting her as the betrayed
wife, and putting him in a position where he couldn’t leave her. It was brilliant, so much so that Warren had basically vanished after his and Kollette’s appearance on Gospel Today. No one has seen or heard from him. Kollette has the nerve to be worried about her missing husband, but I know she’ll be back soon to handle her business as usual—slurp, slurp!

  “You bastard!”

  Neil turned to see Landon, Warren and Bishop Arnold standing in the doorway of his office.

  “Landon, what the hell has gotten into you, man?” Neil looked at him like he was crazy.

  “Where the hell are the pictures?” Landon demanded.

  “What are you talking about?” Neil feigned a look of confusion.

  “Warren’s safety deposit box, the key. You stole the pictures and used them, you shiesty little—”

  “Landon, you’re tripping.” Neil took a step back. The way Warren was looking at him made him uneasy.

  “No I’m not. I was there that night Warren came to for that brief moment and told you to ‘give P the key’ in his top drawer. I thought he was delusional, but I get it now. Where the hell are the pictures?” Landon ran over to Neil and started choking him. Neil began clawing at Landon’s hands, but they tightened around his neck. He gasped as he tried to breathe, his eyes watering. Landon shook him slightly and repeated, “Where are they? Tell me!”

  “Landon, let him go,” Warren’s voice screamed.

  For a slight second, Neil felt a bit of relief, thinking that Landon would obey the instructions, but his grip remained tight.

  “You low-down conniving snake, how could you do this?” Warren growled.

  Sinking under Landon’s grip, Neil tried unsuccessfully to get away. Warren walked behind Landon and grabbed him by the shoulders. Landon jerked away, continuing to choke Neil.

  “Landon, you’re gonna hurt him!” Warren warned.

  “No, I’m gonna kill him!” Landon replied.

  “No, you’re not. Let him go!” the bishop yelled. Landon loosened his grip and Neil began coughing as he rubbed his neck. The bishop glared at him and commanded, “Start talking!”

  “I don’t have the pictures,” Neil lied.

  Landon lunged at him and he moved quickly. Neil looked over at the bishop. “He’s crazy!”

  To Neil’s surprise, the bishop shook his head. “He’s not crazy. I know all about you and Kollette’s little schemes. I can’t believe the two of you! After all I’ve done to support you both, you turn around and do something like this to me? Do you realize the damage that the two of you have caused my ministry?”

  “Bishop, you know I would never—”

  SLAP! The sound of the bishop’s palm against Neil’s face echoed in the office. The sting on his cheek was nothing compared to the anger Neil felt. The natural reaction to hit the bishop back was immediately interrupted by the bishop’s fist into his gut, causing him to fall backward. As he tried to sit up, the bishop’s foot pushed him back down.

  “Bishop!” The tables were now turned, and Landon was trying to subdue the bishop.

  “Landon, get out. I will handle this!” the bishop told him.

  “Naw, Bishop.” Landon glared. “This fool . . .”

  Neil watched as the two men looked each other in the eye. Finally, the bishop said, “I got this! I know everything this fool has done and I’m telling you I got this! The pictures, the break-ins into Paisley’s home, everything! It will be dealt with, trust me. Now, I need you to just leave and let me handle this.”

  Landon hesitated. “Fine, Bishop. I trust you.” He walked out.

  As the door slammed, Neil began to panic, knowing that there would be no witnesses to whatever wrath the bishop was about to bestow upon him.

  Epilogue

  Listen, Mama, Seymone and I have to do this party at the studio tonight. Do you want to go over to Chester’s and spend the night because it’s probably gonna be kind of late when I get back?” Paisley asked, feeling guilty. Her mother’s visits the past few weeks had been pleasant and, to her surprise, she really didn’t want to leave her.

  “Girl, don’t be trying to dump me off on Chester. I can stay right at your house.” Her mother laughed.

  The paparazzi had finally moved on to the next big story and Paisley had returned to her own home. With the exception of the typical photographer every now and then when they went out to eat, or the frequent fans they ran into every now and then with a cell phone camera, Paisley’s life was back to normal.

  “You don’t need to be here by yourself. I’ll ask Landon if he can stay with you instead of coming to the studio,” Paisley suggested.

  “Or, she can come to the studio with us.” Seymone shrugged.

  Paisley stared at her best friend and stopped herself before asking if she was on crack.

  “I don’t mind tagging along,” Emma Jean replied.

  “She was just joking, Mama,” Paisley quickly said.

  “What kind of party is it? Do I need to dress up?” Emma Jean asked. “I don’t think I brought anything really dressy.”

  Seymone started giggling. “No, it’s not a party like that.”

  “Mama, really, I don’t think you want to come. Seymone and I will be working.” Paisley tried to think of something to deter her mother from coming with them.

  “Well, I think I would like to see you girls working. Maybe I can get a better understanding of what you do,” Emma Jean told them. “Now, tell me what I need to wear because I’m going.”

  Paisley shook her head, knowing that her mother would be joining them along with the other twenty women at The Playground for the private Girls Night Out they had scheduled.

  “Just wear some workout clothes, Mama,” Paisley sighed.

  “I don’t even think I have any with me.” Her mother began digging in her suitcase.

  “Don’t worry, Ms. EJ, we have a salon full of gear at the studio that you can choose from. But do you have any stilettos?” Seymone asked.

  Emma Jean’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, I only have pumps.”

  “And you need to be thinking about your ‘play name’,” Seymone told her.

  “What is a ‘play name’?” Emma Jean looked at the girls suspiciously.

  “Whatever name you think personafies the sexy diva within.”

  Paisley could not believe Seymone was having this conversation with her mother of all people. A couple of months ago, she would never had thought her mother would be stepping foot into The Playground, and now she was trying to think of her “play name.”

  “Hmm,” Emma Jean said, “what about Siren? You know that’s what Gordon calls me sometimes when . . .”

  “Oh God,” Paisley groaned, not wanting to think about why her mother picked that name. “Mama, please.”

  “All right now, Siren,” Seymone laughed. “That’s hot!”

  The dog began barking uncontrollably, alerting Paisley that something was not right outside.

  “What in the world?” Seymone frowned.

  “Someone must be outside.” Paisley tried not to panic. Paisley’s heart began to pound as she got up and walked into the hallway. The dog continued to bark at the door and Paisley headed down the steps.

  “Paisley, where are you going?” Seymone frowned.

  “To see what Killa is barking at,” Paisley told her. She went into the living room and looked out the window. Standing on her porch was a UPS delivery man. Relieved, she yelled, “It’s just the UPS man. Killa shut up!”

  Paisley picked her small dog up into her arms as she opened the door.

  “How you doing, ma’am?” the delivery man smiled.

  “I’m good.” She tried to hold on to the wiggling animal.

  “I have a delivery for Paisley Lawrence,” he told her.

  “That’s me,” Paisley said and signed the electronic clipboard.

  “The box is fairly heavy. You want me to bring it in for you?” the man offered.

  “I can get it,” Seymone said as she wal
ked down the steps and joined her best friend in the doorway. She reached down and pulled the box into the foyer.

  “Oh.” The deliveryman sounded disappointed. He looked at the two women and said, “I’m not gonna front. I’m a big fan of both of you. Can a brother get a pic with you?”

  Paisley shook her head. “Sorry, friend, no pics, and if you’re a fan, you know why.”

  “I know. I just thought I would give it a shot.” The man grinned.

  “It’s all good,” she told him.

  “I gotta say it was nice to meet you in person, though.” He nodded, then walked away. Paisley watched until he got into his truck and pulled off. By the time Paisley closed the door, Seymone had carried the box into the kitchen and placed it on Paisley’s large marble table. “I don’t even know if I wanna open this.”

  “Maybe you should wait until Landon gets out of the shower,” Seymone suggested.

  Paisley put the dog down on the floor and grabbed a knife out of a nearby drawer. She placed the tip of the blade against the brown tape and slit the box open. Nervously, she closed her eyes and lifted the top. It was filled with white Styrofoam peanuts. She put her hand inside and began pulling them out, not caring that they fell to the floor. Killa began playing with them as she continued her search.

  “What’s that?” Landon asked, walking into the kitchen.

  “The UPS man just dropped it off,” Seymone told him. “I told her to wait for you before she opened it, but you know how hardheaded she is.”

  “What? Move, Paisley.” Landon slid the box from in front of her. “You don’t know what could be in here.”

  “That’s what I was trying to see,” she told him, waiting as he now pulled out handfuls of Styrofoam and dropped them. He frowned as he said, “Are you sure there’s anything even in here?”

  “That box has some weight to it,” Seymone replied. “It’s not empty at all. Something’s in there.”

  “Wait, I feel something,” he said, and pulled out a Styrofoam-wrapped item. He removed the coating to reveal a rhinestone studded BlackBerry.