by La Jill Hunt
“I’m not tripping. I’m just telling you up front that I know how your man is and I don’t need to feel like I’m distracting you from your relationship.” Paisley shrugged.
“You’re not distracting me from anything. If I didn’t wanna be here, then I wouldn’t be here,” Seymone snapped. “Dammit, Paisley, you would think you would be a little more humble considering. . .”
“Considering what?” Paisley’s voice got louder.
“Divas, divas,” Chester hissed as he walked into the room, “let’s get ourselves under control here! We got enough people talking about us without giving them something else to add to the stories.”
Paisley glared at Seymone. “I was just telling Seymone she didn’t have to feel obligated to be here, that’s all, and she got defensive.”
“Oh, Paisley, shut up. You know she’s not here because she feels she has to be. She’s here because she loves you.” Chester rolled his eyes at her.
I should’ve known he would be on her side, Paisley thought. Everyone always sides with her. She watched him place two large travel bags beside her bed.
“I don’t know why she’s tripping,” Seymone sighed.
“She’s tripping because you left her high and dry when it was time to make a move and open the studio, and then you acted like it was no big deal. She’s still hurt and feels that you chose your man over your friendship,” Chester said nonchalantly as he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a beautiful peach lounge set. “I knew you would love this the moment I saw it.”
“It’s gorgeous!” Paisley smiled. “A heck of a lot better than this ugly hospital gown I’m wearing.”
“Too bad there’s not a tub in here. I know you would kill for a hot bath,” he told her. “I got this new sea salt soak from After Effex that’s to die for! Don’t worry. I’ma hook you up when we get you outta here.”
“I know you are.” Paisley nodded.
“Hold up, hold up, wait, wait, wait.” Seymone’s eyes darted back and forth between Paisley and Chester. “What do you mean I chose my man over our friendship? When did all this come about?”
“Let it go, Seymone,” Paisley replied. “I’m over it, seriously.”
“No, you’re not,” Chester sighed. “That’s why she’s surprised you’re here. She thought you didn’t care about her anymore. I’ve been telling her for months that you two need to hash this out. But she didn’t wanna bring it up.”
“I can’t believe you.” Paisley shook her head. “No, I’m lying. I can believe you. You always pick the most inopportune times to tell my business.”
“You really think I chose Bobby over you, Paisley?”
Paisley looked at her friend. She wanted to be honest, but she didn’t want Seymone to get it twisted and think it was jealousy, which it definitely wasn’t. Although she thought Bobby was a disgusting, arrogant prick and Seymone could do way better, she knew her friend was in love and she was happy for her. She took a deep breath and said, “I think you chose Bobby over our business and the plans we made for the future. But, it’s all good.”
“That’s ridiculous. Bobby proposed and then he got signed to the Falcons! How was I supposed to know any of that was going to happen?” Seymone dabbed at the tears that were forming in her eyes.
“Seymone, don’t cry. I understand. I said it’s all good,” Paisley told her. “See, Chester, this is all your damn fault.”
“Look, I just opened the door, you both chose to walk in.” Chester shrugged. “Besides, this is a conversation y’all shoulda had a long time ago.”
The phone rang next to her bed. Paisley reached over and answered, “Hello.”
After a few moments with no response, she repeated herself. Still nothing. She placed the phone back on the receiver.
“So, that’s why you been so busy you ain’t had time to talk to me, Paisley?” Seymone asked.
“No, you know everything I got going on. The studio has been slammed, not to mention I’m helping Diesel and the guys with remodeling and revamping the club. If I didn’t want to talk to you, Seymone, I would just tell you. If nothing else, you know I’ma grown-ass woman.”
“I ain’t say you weren’t. I guess I just thought that we were better than that and if you had a problem with me, you could just tell me. Maybe you’re right, I don’t need to be here.” Seymone grabbed her purse and put on her sunglasses.
For some reason, Paisley started laughing uncontrollably. Chester and Seymone looked at her like she was crazy, and then they began laughing with her.
“Okay, what the hell are we laughing at?” Seymone finally asked.
“Why the hell are you putting on your sunglasses and it’s nine o’clock at night and raining outside?” Paisley answered when she was able to talk.
“The same reason you wore a white fur coat over your bikini to DeeJay Terror’s All White Affair last Fourth of July, wench!” Seymone smiled.
“Because you’re both the true divas I raised you to be, that’s why,” Chester announced. They stared at him and then the room filled with laughter again. It felt good to laugh.
“I’m glad you’re here, Seymone. You know that.” Paisley reached out her hand.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Seymone grabbed Paisley’s hand and squeezed it.
“Thank God that’s over.” Chester collapsed into the chair as if exhausted. “Whew, first I had to deal with Emma Jean’s drama and now this.”
“Yeah, your mom had me kinda stressed, for real,” Seymone said, taking off the sunglasses and removing her jacket. Paisley’s eyes widened as she looked at her friend. To the average person, Seymone looked like the beautiful model she was. At five foot eight, she was slightly taller than Paisley, who was five seven-and-a-half. Her chestnut skin, hazel eyes, and curvaceous bottom hinted at both her Puerto Rican and black heritages. Dressed in a red Baby Phat sweat suit and all red Nikes, her naturally curly hair was pulled into a long ponytail that fell to the center of her back. Even though she was curvy, Seymone had always been petite, a size eight at the most. As she stared, Paisley noticed that her friend was now easily a ten, maybe bigger. She couldn’t resist asking.
“Seymone Taylor, are you pregnant?”
“What? Are you crazy?” Seymone’s voice squealed. “Why the hell would you ask me that?”
Paisley shrugged. “Because you’ve gained weight. Wow, girl.”
Chester laughed. “Paisley, you need to stop. You’re acting like the girl is plus-sized or something. She’s just put on a few pounds, and I think it looks good on her.”
“Bobby kept telling me I was anorexic and he wanted me to put on five pounds.” Seymone admired herself. “I guess I got a little carried away, but he is loving it. He can’t keep his hands off me and keeps saying how good I look.”
“I didn’t say you looked bad,” Paisley told her. “I’m just not used to you being that thick.”
I shoulda known Bobby’s controlling ass had something to do with Seymone’s weight gain. I guess I should be grateful, because he coulda asked her to lose weight and she would be walking around here looking like Nicole Richie’s twin.
“Yeah, you were always the thick one, and I was the one with the eyes.” Seymone laughed. “Now I guess I can finally raid your closet, especially since you’re all laid up.”
“You better stay your ass outta my closet,” Paisley warned her.
“We can raid it together.” Chester nudged Seymone’s arm and they laughed together like they were two school girls.
“I don’t see anything funny,” Paisley said.
Her doctor, whom she met earlier, Evan Singleton, walked in and examined her. Had she not been in excruciating pain, she probably would have been more inclined to comment on his tall, dark, athletic body and his handsome face.
“How are you this evening, Ms. Lawrence?” He smiled.
“I’m still in some pain, but I’m better, Dr. Singleton.” she told him.
“Call me Evan, please,” he said. “
Let’s try this again. How are you this evening, Ms. Lawrence?”
“I’m better, Evan,” she replied dryly. She knew he was trying to be light-hearted and put her at ease, but she wasn’t in the mood to laugh at all.
“That’s good to hear,” he replied as he shined a penlight into her eyes, causing her to squint. He pulled back the sheet and checked her legs, which were still swollen and covered with black-and-blue bruises. They had been crushed from the front-end impact and it was a miracle that they weren’t broken. Paisley could barely move because of the pain.
“Can I please get rid of this catheter?” she whispered.
“I think we should give it a few more days, until you gain more strength in your legs,” he said.
“I can make it to the restroom. It’s not that far. And my family is here to help me if I need it,” she pleaded.
Seymone nodded. “We’ll be right here.”
Dr. Singleton hesitated, then finally said, “I’ll remove it and see how you do.”
Paisley was relieved. Having the catheter removed was one small step to getting out of there and heading home. This entire situation was becoming overwhelming. She had a studio to run, and the club that she had invested in was scheduled to open in less than six weeks. Being laid up was not part of her plan. Chester and Seymone excused themselves while Dr. Singleton called the nurse to remove the uncomfortable device.
“How much longer do you think I’ll be here?” she asked.
“Three days or so, another week at the longest,” he answered. “I know you’re anxious to get out of here. You’re quite the popular patient.”
“I bet,” she sighed. From what Seymone and Chester told her, the press had been adamant in their search for information regarding her and Warren. Cameramen and reporters had been lurking in the hospital and security had been heightened. For Paisley, just hearing about it made her bad situation worse.
“This is gonna be a little uncomfortable,” the nurse told her.
She flinched and closed her eyes. Once it was over, she thanked both of them.
“I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.” He smiled. “Get some rest.”
“Easier said than done,” Paisley sighed. “Dr. Singleton, how is Mr. Cobb?”
“As far as I know, he’s still unconscious,” he told her. “If I hear any news, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Thank you,” she told him. She prayed that Warren was okay. She wanted to see him, talk to him, and let him know that she was fine. The nurse gave her another dose of pain meds and she drifted to sleep with thoughts of Warren on her mind.
I gotta pee, Paisley thought as she struggled to open her eyes and see. The room was completely dark. She had convinced Chester and Seymone to go home around midnight. She reached for the remote and clicked on the television; the glow from the screen provided enough light for her to check her watch and see that it was after three in the morning. It had been hard to get to sleep, even with the narcotics they were giving her for pain, because someone continually called the room, but didn’t say anything. Finally, having the phone taken from the room had given her some rest. The urge to use the restroom became stronger, and knowing that it would probably take the nurse a while to get to her room, Paisley decided to struggle to the bathroom alone. She eased her body up, clenching her throbbing thighs, while maneuvering her legs over the side of the bed. As she prepared to stand up, she braced herself for the pain she knew she was about to experience. Her legs wobbled as the combination of pain and pressure shot down her body when she stood. Paisley grabbed the bed for support. She didn’t know whether to call the nurse to help her struggle back into bed, but the pressure on her bladder encouraged her to grab a nearby chair, use it as a makeshift walker, and will herself into the small restroom. I made it. She smiled to herself. She sat on the toilet for a while after she finished, fighting off overwhelming dizziness. It was as if she were in a thick fog. Finally, after what felt like hours, she gathered the strength to stand up and stumble back toward her bed.
“Just a little farther to go,” she whispered, pushing the chair closer to the bed. The sound of the legs scraping against the floor amplified and caused her teeth to clench. She had just made it to the side of the bed when she caught a glimpse of a man’s shadowy figure standing near the doorway. She squinted and tried to make him out. “Who are you?”
“Uh . . . I . . . I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He was dressed in green hospital scrubs and hat, and his face was covered with a surgical mask. There was something recognizable about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.
Paisley’s heart began pounding and she grabbed the sheet, pulling it close to her body. “Get out!”
“I needed to see for myself. They wouldn’t tell me.” He took a step closer to her.
Paisley scrambled to find the call button for the nurse. “Get the hell out! I swear, I’m about to scream!”
He took another step, and before she could react, he dropped something on her bed and ran out. Paisley screamed as her fingers found the red help button and pressed it nonstop.
“Ms. Lawrence, what’s wrong?” The nurse came running in.
“That man! He was just in my room. He ran out, you had to see him!” Paisley panted, struggling to catch her breath.
“What man?” The nurse seemed to be confused. “I didn’t see anyone.”
“You had to see him. He ran right out right before you came in. Please call security so they can get him. He put something on my bed!”
The nurse glanced at the foot of the bed to where Paisley was pointing. She pulled the blanket back, checking for whatever it was the man had dropped.
“There’s nothing here, Ms. Lawrence.” She shrugged.
“He was just here.” Paisley frowned, her breathing becoming even more shallow.
“Ms. Lawrence, you’re hyperventilating. I need for you to breathe deeply,” she said, helping Paisley adjust herself in the bed. “You’re pretty heavily medicated, and sometimes that can cause you to see or hear things that aren’t really there.”
Paisley was confused. She knew what she had seen.
There had been a man in her room, and he did drop something on the bed. I’m not crazy, she thought, still confused by what had just happened. Heavily medicated my ass.
A few moments later, Paisley was breathing normally. “Are you going to report this to security? I need someone to take a report or something.”
The nurse seemed to be frustrated with Paisley’s request. “Ms. Lawrence, I didn’t see anyone and I was right across the hall when you screamed. If there had been a man running out of here, like you said there was, I would’ve at least seen him in the hallway.”
Paisley felt her anger rising, and stared at the woman. “Listen, I don’t give a damn if you saw him or not. Get security in here!”
“I’ll be right back,” the nurse said, glaring icily at Paisley. She headed out of the room, leaving the door open. “Who does she think she is? Pulpit whore.”
Chapter 4
“What’s going on? They said you could leave?” Paisley was dressed and sitting on the side of the bed when her agent, Fallon, walked in with Seymone. “Can you grab my other bag? I don’t know why Chester brought all this stuff anyway.”
“I know they didn’t tell her she could leave. She can barely walk. Heck, they took her catheter out yesterday.” Seymone looked at her like she was crazy.
“I can’t stay here. I gotta go.” She groaned in pain as she tried to stand up.
“Paisley.” Fallon ran over to help her. “Girl, what is wrong with you? You’re in no condition to leave this hospital.”
“What’s going on?” Seymone asked.
“Last night, this guy . . . he was dressed in a hospital mask . . . He . . . he was in here,” Paisley told them.
“What?”
“Girl, no!”
The two women spoke at the same time.
/> “I went to the bathroom and when I came out, he was in my room,” she continued.
“Are you all right?” Fallon asked.
“What did he want?” Seymone frowned.
“What kinda question is that?” Fallon turned and shook her head in disbelief at Seymone.
“I mean . . .” Seymone started.
“Believe it or not, he said he wanted to make sure I was okay,” Paisley told them.
“He said that? Wow, did you call the police? Did they catch him?” Seymone’s eyes were wide with excitement. Paisley had to wonder if she was enjoying hearing about the distressful situation. “What did you do?”
“I screamed. And the fat, ugly nurse came waltzing in like I was interrupting her snack break. I told her about the guy and she told me I was hallucinating. She didn’t even want to call security.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Fallon said, reaching into her purse and pulling out her cell phone. “This is ridiculous. Don’t worry, Paisley, I’ll take care of it and get you the hell out of here.”
Paisley watched as Fallon fell into management mode, demanding to speak to the hospital director and the head of security. She loved Fallon. She was the flyest white girl she had ever met, and hiring her as her manager had been the smartest move she had ever made. Fallon Baxter only had four clients, including Paisley and Seymone, all recommended by Chester, and she made sure that they were all so successful she didn’t need any more. Fallon’s father was one of the most successful entertainment lawyers in the nation, and she had connections all over: directors, producers, photographers, restaurateurs, bankers, doctors, lawyers, pilots. You needed it, Fallon could get it. Five foot five, dark hair, and curvy, she was a perfect combination of homegirl, high class, and hip. She was born and raised in Philadelphia and gave her family hell growing up. She had been thrown out of more private schools than her parents could count, until her mother finally said the hell with it and, when Fallon was in the eleventh grade, enrolled her in the roughest public school in the city. She had hoped Fallon would freak out and appreciate the quality, expensive education they were trying to provide. Instead, Fallon thrived. It was as if she had found her home. They had to wonder if maybe she had been a black girl in a former life because she fell right into place. By senior year, Fallon was an honor roll student, senior class treasurer, voted Most Outgoing and Best Dressed, and graduated with honors. Although it seemed odd to the rest of the family that all of Fallon’s friends were black and she only dated black guys, her parents were just happy that they finally stopped getting calls in the middle of the night asking them to come pick their daughter up from a local police station.
