by La Jill Hunt
Chapter 21
Scorpio
“Girl, you know we were scared as hell, right?” Marcelo said.
“Hell, I was scared too,” Scorpio told him, enjoying the feel of the brush he was putting through her hair. Although she still felt like crap, she was determined not to look like it. She’d finally been moved from ICU, and one of the nurses relented and allowed her to see herself in a small hand mirror. She was appalled. There was a slight bruise on the side of her face and dark circles under her eyes, and her hair looked like an unkempt, raggedy mess. Reaching Marcelo, one of her best friends who also happened to be her makeup artist and hair stylist, was her priority. Unfortunately, she didn’t have her cell phone with her at the hospital. But Dina, her agent, came to check in on her and make sure her security detail was taken care of. She made the call to Marcelo, and once she was able to reach him, it didn’t even take him an hour to get to the hospital to hook her up.
“We kept trying to come up here and see you. But they said you couldn’t have any visitors, per your family’s request. I’m gonna cuss King’s ass out when I see him,” Marcelo said with an attitude. “His ass knows that we are your family. Hell, we’ve been more family than he’s been to you over the past year.”
Scorpio was grateful for Marcelo’s loyalty, but she knew she had to explain that he was angry at the wrong person. “It wasn’t King who did that.”
“Huh? Who was it then?”
“Yolanda,” Scorpio told him.
“Yolanda who? Your Yolanda? As in your mother, Yolanda?” Marcelo cocked his head to the side and moved so he could face her. She couldn’t help admiring the crisp, bright green button-down shirt he wore with a pair of jeans and Gucci loafers. He was heavyset, but that didn’t stop him from being one of the best-dressed men she knew, and he was quite handsome. His locs were pulled up into a messy bun on top of his head. And at first glance, one wouldn’t even know he was gay. But once he opened his mouth and his spunky attitude came out, there was no questioning it.
Scorpio nodded. “Yep, that Yolanda.”
“Shit, let me hurry up and get the hell outta here. I don’t need them kinda problems in my life,” he said as he started gathering up the hair and makeup products that he had laid out on the bed tray.
“Marcelo, stop it. You’re tripping.” Scorpio laughed.
“No, you’re tripping. I love you, Scorp. God knows it, and so do you. But I do not have the energy or mental space to deal with your mother. She is . . . well, you know how she is.” Marcelo told her. He then yelled out of the room, “Cheddar, your ass ain’t say nothing either. See how you do?”
Cheddar, who’d been posted up outside of Scorpio’s room since she’d been moved from ICU the day before, poked his head in the door. “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“Calm down, Marcelo. She’s out and won’t be back for a while.” Scorpio laughed.
“What the hell ever.” Marcelo rolled his eyes as he picked up the brush and returned it to her head. His touch was a little more forceful than he realized and she flinched. “Oh, Scorp, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Scorpio grimaced. It seemed as if the pain was now shooting down her neck and through the entire left side of her body, which was the side where she sustained most of her injuries. “Did you bring the flat iron?”
“It’s not okay. And I’m not putting heat anywhere near you, heffa. Ain’t you tired of fire? I’m ’bout to slick this stuff back, and you’ll be fine.”
“Ugh, well, what are we going to do about covering these bruises?” she asked him.
“We’re going to let them heal, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Marcelo replied. “You look fine. Why are you tripping?”
“I don’t look fine, and you know it. And I’m tripping because I need for people to see that I’m okay. Dina is gonna get me a new phone, but until then I need for you to take a pic of me and post it on your page and tag me so that people can see that I’m okay.”
“What’s the big rush?” Marcelo asked.
“Look, Dina told me they’re postponing the swimsuit shoot, since I’m gonna be in here for a couple of days, then make a decision about the upcoming schedule. But I already know what the deal is. I’m sure I’m going to be replaced, and I don’t want that to happen.”
Marcelo gave her an empathetic look and sighed. “Girl, don’t even worry about any of that. You need to focus on getting well.”
“Oh, I’m doing that. But just tell me what you’ve heard. Who are they considering? Probably that bitch Farah, huh?” Scorpio asked, referring to another model who’d been on the rise, mainly because she was sleeping her way through the industry with both males and females. “Who is she screwing to get my spot?”
“It’s not her. But I’m telling you, you don’t need to be thinking about that right now. Besides, it’s one shoot, not the end of your career.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know how this game goes. And since when are you so passive? Hell, you’re normally the one telling me let’s get this money and show my face to the world. What’s changed?” Scorpio frowned.
Marcelo paused and stared at her. “Scorp, because I almost lost my best fucking friend in the world, that’s what changed. Do you know how scared I was, and then to have them refuse to let me see you or give us any updates about your condition? I didn’t give a shit about any shoots, or covers, or anything else. I cared about you. That’s all that mattered. Do you know how blessed you are to even be here?”
As the tears fell from Marcelo’s eyes, Scorpio wiped her own now streaming down her face. She was blessed. The doctors had told her that repeatedly. And she was grateful to be alive, but she wasn’t about to risk losing everything she’d worked so hard to have. She’d sacrificed to much. As much as her mother got on her nerves, one thing she taught her was how to be resilient and a fighter. And she was ready to do whatever she needed to do to hurry and get out of the hospital so she could get back to work.
“I know, Marcelo, and I’m sorry about the hell you’ve been through the past couple of days. Trust me, it hasn’t been a picnic for me either.” Scorpio reached for his hand, and he squeezed it. “But you and I both know this happening to me is giving folks the opportunity to come for my spot, and I’m not giving it to them. So fine, slick my hair back, but I’m telling you, you betta beat my face like it’s never been beaten before,” she said, using the term “beat” that industry professionals used when referring to makeup.
“Look, I ain’t worried about nobody coming for your spot. There is only one Scorpio, and they know that,” Marcelo said matter-of-factly. “You don’t have nothing to prove. You need to be resting.”
“I am resting, Marcelo. I’ve been stuck in this bed for days. I can’t do nothing but rest. But I want to feel pretty. I need to feel pretty. It will make me feel so much better. You know you feel good when you look good.” Scorpio winced again as she sat up a little farther in the bed. He went to help her, but she pushed him away. “I’m okay. I’m just a little sore, that’s all. Come on, let’s do this.”
“Fine.” Marcelo glared at her. “A simple, light beat.”
“As if you could ever do anything simple and light,” Scorpio teased. “And turn on some music.”
Marcelo loosened up a bit as he grabbed his phone and turned on some music. Once he finished taming Scorpio’s hair, he went to work on her face. Although his touch was light and she knew he was being extremely careful, it didn’t stop the sharp pains from surging every few minutes. He paused each time Scorpio flinched, but she refused to let him stop.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he kept asking.
“I would probably be a little better if I had a damn drink.” She laughed with her eyes closed as he put mascara on her lashes to thicken them. When he didn’t respond right away, she popped her eyelids open and squinted at him. “Gimme!”
“Give you what?” he asked innocently.
“Whatever alcoholic beverage you got in
that damn bag!” Scorpio told him.
“I will not. You’re on IV narcotics. You betta push that damn button and grab a dose of whatever it is their giving you,” Marcelo told her.
“It makes me sleepy. Come on, one little sip,” she begged.
Marcelo reached into the bag and took out a silver flask and handed it to her. “Fine, one sip. That’s it, heffa.”
Scorpio took it from him and unscrewed the top, taking a sniff. Her nose wrinkled. “What is it? Jack?”
“Don’t be picky. You don’t want it, give it back.” He reached for the flask, but she turned it up and took a big swig. The liquid burned just as hot going down her throat as the burns on her body, but it felt good.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Scorpio damn near dropped the flask she was still holding to her lips.
“Shit,” Marcelo murmured, his eyes wide as they went from Yolanda, who’d just waltzed into the room, to Scorpio.
“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in here?” her mother walked over and demanded.
Scorpio handed him the flask. In record speed, he twisted the cap back on and stuck it back into the bag, then began gathering up his things.
“This is Marcelo. You’ve met him before. He came to fix me up a little and visit. I invited him,” Scorpio told her.
“Turn that damn music down,” Yolanda snapped. “You’re in here blasting that mess and drinking like it’s a nightclub and not a hospital room. What if someone else had walked in and not me? You keep worrying about the press and blogs and what they have to say. You’re in here giving them plenty to talk about.”
Marcelo scrambled for his phone and turned the music off. “My apologies.”
Scorpio shook her head and exhaled loudly. “No one else would walk in here. Cheddar is posted right outside the door. You’re overreacting.”
“I’m acting concerned. Someone needs to be thinking about your well-being. You should be in here resting and healing from trauma, and instead, he’s in here playing dress-up. Ridiculous,” Yolanda snapped.
Marcelo packed up the last of his things, and Scorpio saw the vein popping out of the side of his neck: something that happened whenever he was angry. She knew he was trying not to snap. Her bestie was trying to be respectful, but it was killing him.
“It’s not ridiculous, and you owe him an apology. Marcelo, wait. We didn’t take the picture,” Scorpio said.
“Picture? What picture?” Yolanda frowned. “No one is taking a picture of you, especially in this condition and looking like that.”
Again Scorpio winced, this time not from the pain in her body, but from the pain of her mother’s words and the hurt she saw on Marcelo’s face. His only response as he eased past her mother and out the door was, “Bye, Scorp.”
“Did you have to do that?” Scorpio snapped at her mother.
“Do what?” Yolanda had the audacity to act as if she had no clue what Scorpio was referring to.
“Be rude and condescending,” Scorpio told her. Not only had her disrespect caused Marcelo to leave, but she didn’t even get the chance to see what she now looked like. Based on her mother’s reaction though, his attempt at making her look presentable hadn’t worked.
“I wasn’t being rude or condescending. I was being sensible and looking out for your best interest.”
“I was the one who told Marcelo to come to the hospital. My friends have been worried sick about me and couldn’t even come and check on me.” Scorpio wished she’d taken another swig of the liquor before her mother had walked in, because she needed it. Hell, she needed a whole fifth to deal with her.
“Sarena, I think you’re confused about where the line between friends and family is drawn. You give people too much access to you, and then you complain about the press being all in your business,” Yolanda told her. “And we need to think about getting rid of some of these flowers. They’re cluttering up the room.”
Scorpio looked at the multiple vases of flowers spread throughout the room. They’d been sent with well wishes from everyone from King to her accountant. Her favorite had to be the ones given to her from Knight, her stepson, which he’d given to her with a hand-drawn card and letter. She had missed him, and losing him was one of the down sides to her breakup with her husband. She and Knight had a special relationship.
“I like the flowers. They’re fine,” Scorpio told her. “Leave them alone.”
“Sarena, I know you’ve been through a lot the past couple of days, but I wish you would stop acting like I’m here to harm you. I’m not. As a matter of fact, I’ve been out all day getting some things handled for you.”
“What kind of things have you handled?” Scorpio became concerned.
“Like finding you somewhere to live once you’re released from here,” her mother said. “Your house isn’t liveable, and you can’t go back there. You probably haven’t even thought about that, have you? Well, I have. I found a new home just as adequate as the one you were living in. By the time you’re released in a few days, I’ll have it ready.”
“You didn’t have to do all of that. King was working on it. He was meeting with someone this morning as a matter of fact,” Scorpio told her, recalling the conversation she and King had earlier. He was going over to talk to Darby, the real estate agent, about renting the house across the street from theirs.
“King? You really aren’t depending on him to handle your affairs, are you? You can’t be that naive. He can’t even handle his own matters. He has his hands full with that boy of his who’s suddenly appeared. You don’t have time to deal with a ready-made family, and you don’t have to.” Yolanda leaned over and adjusted Scorpio’s pillows. “Sit back.”
It did feel a little better, but Scorpio wouldn’t dare admit it. “He’s my husband. And I love Knight.”
“Estranged husband,” Yolanda corrected her.
“I don’t need you to take care of anything. King can handle it.” Scorpio sighed.
“Handle what?” King asked as he walked into the room. She was glad to see him and have someone to help take some of the pressure off from dealing with her mother by herself. “Hello, Yolanda.”
“King.” Yolanda’s voice was flat.
“Hey. Handle finding us some temporary housing,” Scorpio told him.
King walked over, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. “Damn, you look beautiful. Wow.”
“Thank you. Marcelo came to visit.” Scorpio smiled. “I was telling her you already handled it. Did you talk to Darby?”
“I did. But the house is under contract. Someone snatched it up this morning,” he told her.
“Aw, damn.” Scorpio sighed. “That would’ve been perfect.”
“I know,” he said. “But we’ll find something else. Knight starts school next week, so I gotta hurry and get him settled in a crib. I really wasn’t prepared even before all of this happened. But we’ll be okay. All of us.”
Scorpio saw the smirk on her mother’s face, as if she was thinking, I told you he couldn’t handle anything. She hated that she was sitting and enjoying that she might’ve been right. She thought for a second. She and King weren’t on the best of terms, and she had no clue where their relationship stood at this point. But he’d been supportive and by her side while she was in the hospital, and even though she knew she wasn’t in love with him, she did love him and considered him a friend. She also loved Knight as if he were her own son. Her mother couldn’t understand any of this because she didn’t want to understand it. But it wasn’t her life, it was Scorpio’s, and she knew if she didn’t do anything, Yolanda would take over. She was not going to let that happen.
“No worries though. It’s already taken care of,” Scorpio told him.
“What do you mean?” King asked.
“My mom found us a place already. She’s already working on getting it ready for us to move in. So Knight can pick out whatever he needs for his room, and you can help her with anything else.” Scorpio grinned. She
looked over at her mother and saw the look of sheer horror and confusion on her face. Scorpio was elated.
“Sarena, what are you talking about?” Yolanda’s eyes widened, and she slid to the edge of the chair she was sitting on.
“You said you already found a new house and it was comparable to the one we already have. And we appreciate it. Right, King?” Scorpio glanced over at him and winked.
King raised his eyebrow. “We really do.” He slowly grinned. “That was quite generous of you, Yolanda. But it’s good to know that during times like this, family can pull together. Thank you.”
Scorpio grabbed King’s hand and said, “Hey, let’s take a selfie and post it on your page and thank everyone for their prayers and support.”
“That’s a great idea,” King said.
“I only wish Knight were here to be in it,” Scorpio said as she posed for the cell phone camera that King was holding up. “Where is he?”
“He’s at a cookout at the neighbor’s house. The one who sent the basket of goodies,” King told her.
“That’s nice. Look at him making friends already.” She turned and said to Yolanda, “Hey, you should come and be in the pics too. After all, we are a ready-made family.”
Yolanda stood, placed her purse under her arm, and stormed out of the room.
Chapter 22
Lisa
“Everything looks amazing.”
“Thank you, and thanks so much for coming.” Lisa welcomed Micah and Adrienne into the backyard where the other guests had started to assemble. Riley Rodriguez, her sister Eden, and Peri Duboise and his friend April were already sipping sangria and nibbling on hors d’oeuvres. Marcus was serving as both grill master and deejay while her sons and their new friend Knight played around in the pool. It was a perfect day for a cookout, not too hot, and there was even a slight breeze.
“Can I do help with anything?” Adrienne offered.
“No, I have everything under control. You two can come on back and enjoy yourselves,” Lisa said as she led the way to the deck. “We have more guests.”
