by La Jill Hunt
“What’s up, Paisley?” He nodded.
“Chilling,” Paisley said, her voice flat. His quick glance to her breasts didn’t go unnoticed by her and she folded her arms in disgust.
“I see you’re changing genres, huh? Going for the gospel cats now?” He smiled, and Paisley had to restrain herself from jumping out of bed and slapping him.
“Bobby, that’s not funny!” Seymone gasped.
“Well, Seymone tried slumming it and look what she ended up with.” Paisley faked a smile.
“Funny,” Bobby remarked, then turned to Seymone. “I got us a suite at the Radisson.”
Seymone frowned at him. “I can’t leave Paisley here alone. You can just stay here.”
Both Paisley and Bobby looked at her like she was crazy.
“Whoa.” Paisley did a double-take.
“Aw, hell naw,” Bobby commented.
“Y’all both are tripping.” Seymone grabbed Bobby’s hand and pulled him out of the room. Paisley didn’t know what Seymone was trying to pull, but there was no way Bobby Taylor would be staying overnight at her house. She knew an argument was going to take place and she wanted to hear exactly how Seymone was gonna handle it.
“I don’t know,” she heard Seymone tell him.
“Damn, Seymone, it’s been two weeks. Her ass don’t look all that hurt to me. She still got a smart-ass mouth,” Bobby commented.
“And so do you.”
“What? You better chill the hell out. Look, you know we got a lotta shit to take care of. You said you wanted to find a house, how the hell are we supposed to do that if you’re here?”
“I know.”
“And what about the wedding? You putting that on hold, too?”
“We haven’t even set a date.”
“I was gonna do that after we got the house situation settled.”
Yeah, right, Paisley thought. He is such a liar and I don’t see why Seymone even deals with him. Everyone and their mama knows that he’s been partying it up for the past two weeks while Seymone was here. Hell, he was partying while Seymone was there with him.
“She’s my best friend, Bobby. What do you want me to do? I’m not just gonna leave her.”
“You said yourself that someone tried to break in the other night. You don’t think I’m worried about you? What if you get hurt?” Bobby’s voice became seductive. “Seymone, I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I love you too, Bobby,” Seymone said. It got quiet, and then Paisley heard a soft moan.
Gross. Well, I guess Seymone will be packing up and leaving tonight. I’d better call Chester and tell him to come over. This is stupid. Maybe I should’ve just let my mother stay.
“You want me to wait downstairs while you get your stuff?” she heard Bobby say a few seconds later.
“Baby, I’m not leaving her. I can’t.”
“What?” Bobby’s voice got louder.
What? Paisley was just as surprised as he was.
“Paisley needs me,” Seymone said.
“I need you,” Bobby snapped.
“She needs me more. Don’t trip, baby. I don’t know why you can’t just stay here. I thought you were working on compromising. I cut back on work; I go to all your games during the season, I help out with your charity events. When are you gonna give a little, Bobby? What are you compromising on?”
“I flew my ass all the way here to see you. That was a compromise. I’m gone to the hotel. Call me later after you’re done playing nursemaid for Paisley. My flight leaves tomorrow night.”
“Bobby!” Seymone yelled.
Paisley listened to the chirping of the alarm system as the front door opened, then closed. Suddenly, it was eerily quiet.
Did she leave? Paisley eased the door open a little wider. She went after him. She stepped farther out into the hallway and peeked down the steps. She turned to go back, and screamed, seeing someone standing in front of her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Seymone squealed, dropping the basket of clothes she was carrying.
“I thought you left . . . I mean . . . I heard the door close,” Paisley said.
“Where the hell am I gonna go? And why would I leave without telling you?” Seymone bent over and picked up the scattered items. “No, your ass was eavesdropping probably.”
“I was not,” Paisley lied. “I heard the alarm when the door opened and I thought maybe you went with Bobby.”
“No, I didn’t,” Seymone sighed. “He threw his little temper tantrum and went back to the hotel.”
“Why?” Paisley pretended like she didn’t already know.
“Because he wanted me to go with him. He can be so selfish,” Seymone said, “just like someone else I know. But I refuse to call names.”
“I know what you mean. I keep telling Chester he needs to be more considerate of others.” Paisley smiled.
“Yeah, that’s definitely not who I was talking about. But, Bobby’ll get over it. He’s probably mad because he thought he was gonna get some.” Seymone laughed.
Paisley looked at her best friend and thought about the sacrifice Seymone had just made. “Why don’t you go over and be with him tonight. I’ll get Fallon or Chester to come and stay a couple of days.”
“Are you serious?” Seymone grinned.
“Yeah, it’s cool. You’ve been cooped up with me in this house long enough. Besides, go so at least one of us will be getting their back blown out,” Paisley remarked. It had been so long since she had even been out on a date, let alone had sex. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be in a relationship, but she didn’t have the time, energy, or patience to deal with meeting someone, getting past all the bullshit, and trying to figure out if he was even worth it. The guys she had dealt with in the past had all proven to simply be disappointing in one way or the other. Most of them had put up a pretty good front as if they were the real deal, but when it came down to it, they were intimidated by her success, more interested in dating the Sensual Seductress rather than Paisley Lawrence, or were just straight up liars about who they were or what they were about. Dating had become sickening, and at this point in her life, she wondered if there was even anyone out there for her. And to this day, she had only fallen in love once, with Warren, and look at how that had turned out.
“Girl, you are the best.” Seymone gave her a quick hug and she moaned in pain. “Oh, my bad.”
“Whatever. You better enjoy yourself, because when you reopen The Playground next week, you ain’t gonna get no rest. I’ma work you to death.”
“Deal.” Seymone nodded.
Chapter 9
“Marcus, you are not the father!” “I knew she was lying!” Paisley said, watching the man dance on the TV screen while Maury Povich tried to comfort a screaming girl who had just been publicly humiliated in front of millions on national television. “That baby don’t look nothing like him. Run girl, that’s what you get. Your lying tail.”
“I can’t believe you’re actually watching this crap, Paisley.” Seymone sat on the opposite end of the sofa in Paisley’s den and shook her head. “There has to be something better on TV.”
“What can be better than trying to figure out which one of these seventeen guys is this chick’s baby daddy? I haven’t slept with that many men in my life.” Paisley laughed.
“That ain’t what I heard, Sensual Seductress.” Seymone ducked as Paisley tossed a throw pillow at her.
“Don’t go there,” Paisley warned her. “It ain’t about what I heard about you, it’s what I know that you need to be worried about.”
“I’m not worried, because I know just as many of your secrets as you know mine, Paisley Pooh!”
Paisley cringed at the nickname her mom used to call her. It had been a long time since she had heard that name, and it brought back a ton of childhood memories. It was hard to believe that they had grown as far apart as they had, and barely spoke to one another. When she ran away from home when she was seventeen, sh
e decided she would never look back. Now, ten years later, it seemed harder than ever not to.
“Stop, please,” Paisley begged, covering her ears.
“Have you talked to your mom since you’ve been home?” Seymone’s voice became serious.
“No, I’ve talked to my father. You know I wasn’t one of my mother’s favorite people before the accident; now, after all this, I don’t think we’ll be arguing anytime soon,” Paisley told her.
“Don’t be like that, Paisley. You know your mom loves you. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have been right there by your side at the hospital,” Seymone said.
“Believe me, she was there out of maternal obligation, that’s it.” Paisley rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, maternal obligation, what’s that other word it’s called? Oh yeah, love!”
“No, she probably didn’t want my father to make that nine-hour drive all the way out here by himself. She was afraid he would get here and I would corrupt him, maybe introduce him to some pretty, young thing that would make him laugh and he would leave her evil, controlling ass,” Paisley teased.
“Paisley, that’s just plain wrong, and you know it.” Seymone shook her head. “Your parents love each other a lot and they both love you. You need to stop and be grateful. Hell, sometimes I wish I could take my mother on Maury and find out who my father is.”
Paisley looked over at her best friend and saw the longing in her eyes. Seymone rarely talked about her family, especially her absentee father. They had grown up in two different environments: Paisley in a comfortable, two-parent home, and Seymone in the hardcore Ninth Ward of New Orleans, by her here-today, gone-tomorrow mother. Paisley ran away from home and began stripping because she wanted to live life in the fast lane. Seymone had no choice; she did it to survive.
“I’m sorry, Seymone,” Paisley said, feeling guilty.
Seymone shook her head and smiled. “No, you’re not. You’re Paisley.”
“You wanna watch something else?” Paisley asked. “Divorce Court is on I think.”
“No. Can’t we go somewhere? Let’s get out of this house.” Seymone stood up and stretched. “I’m starting to get cabin fever.”
“I can’t go anywhere. Don’t you know I was in a car accident, Seymone? I almost died,” Paisley reminded her, “unlike the driver of the other car who walked away with a freaking bump on his head!”
“You didn’t die, Paisley. You’ve been cooped up in here long enough. You can’t stay in here forever. Get up and get dressed.” Seymone pulled her by the arm.
Paisley hesitated. “I can’t. You know people are still talking.”
“Great. We want to keep them talking. As a matter of fact, let’s give them something to talk about. Or did you lose some of your fabulousness in the accident? Hell, I’m fat now, and I don’t care. Let’s go to the mall and then let’s hit a party. I’m calling Chester, he’ll know where the hot spot is tonight! Come on, Paisley, let’s get to it!”
Paisley reluctantly agreed, and they were getting into the car when a black Lexus pulled into the driveway. Evan stepped out, dressed in a pair of khakis and a pale orange soft-collar shirt, and walked over to them.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted them.
“Hey, Evan, I guess we forgot you were scheduled to come by this afternoon,” Seymone said.
“Yeah, we did.” Paisley couldn’t help again noticing how handsome he was. I wonder if he’s a good kisser? This time, she was drawn to the fullness of his lips. They seemed soft and inviting, definitely kissable. She loved kissing, and actually had a personal theory that a man’s kissing ability was indicative of his sexual prowess. The better he kissed, the better he was in bed. If his kiss was soft, gentle, and sensual, that was the type of lover he was. If he couldn’t kiss at all, then nine times out of ten he was whack in bed. Many men didn’t get another date with Paisley after that initial kiss; to her, there was no point. I wonder if he’s a good kisser, she thought again.
“Isn’t that right, Pais?” Seymone asked.
“Huh?” Paisley realized that not only had she been staring at the doctor, but she had missed everything they were saying. She immediately began blushing. What the hell is wrong with you, she scolded herself. He’s your doctor and you’re his patient. He’s too goody-goody for you anyway, definitely not your type.
“I was telling Evan that we were headed out for a little therapy at the mall.” Seymone looked at her strangely, and then added, “I left my phone in the house. I’ll be right back.”
“Therapy at the mall?” Evan asked.
“The best kind,” Paisley said.
“Well, I guess retail therapy counts as physical therapy.” Evan smiled. “I’m sure there will be plenty of walking involved.”
“Definitely.” Paisley nodded.
“Well, would you like for me to reschedule your appointment for tomorrow or another day this week?” he asked.
“Look, Dr. Singleton . . .”
“Evan,” he corrected her.
“Evan,” she repeated. “I’m fine, really. With the exception of this itchy cast and a little soreness in my legs, there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“And that’s a good thing,” he said, “but I still want to check you out.”
Paisley couldn’t help smiling at the way he said it. “Really?”
“I meant make sure you’re healing properly.” It was his turn to blush, realizing how his comment sounded.
“I know what you meant,” she laughed. “But I feel like I’m putting you out of your way.”
“Not at all,” he assured her, staring at her so hard that she had to fight the urge not to become lost in his eyes. “I tell you what, I’ll let you off the hook today since you already have a physical therapy appointment. But I’ll be back same time next week, unless of course you need me before then. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Paisley said, wondering why the thought of his returning next week was actually making her giddy inside. Don’t do it, girl, her inner voice warned, don’t even bother. You’ll only be setting yourself up for the big letdown again.
A little while later, she and Seymone were strolling out of the mall. Walking was becoming easier for Paisley, although she still hurt a bit. The heat of the sun felt good on her face, and the fresh air was a welcome change from the lingering scent of the candles she kept lit throughout her house.
“So, what’s up with you and the doc?” Seymone asked.
“What are you talking about?” Paisley looked at her as if she was crazy.
“I saw you checking him out, Paisley. Giving him the ‘hmm, I wonder if he can kiss’ look.”
“I was not,” Paisley lied, amazed at how well her best friend knew her.
“Well, if you weren’t checking him out, then maybe you need to. That man is fine and he’s got it going on, not to mention he grins every time he looks at you.”
“What man doesn’t grin when he looks at me? They’re all perverts.” Paisley shook her head. “I have no interest in him at all. I don’t have any interest in any man, as a matter of fact.”
“Whoa, hold up there, friend. I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying. You’re not interested in women, are you? Please don’t tell me that, Pais, because I’m not ready to deal with that right now.”
“Don’t play with me, Seymone, you of all people should know that I’m strictly dickly!” Paisley began laughing so hard that her body began to ache. Of all the things she had been accused of being in her life, no one had ever insinuated that she was a lesbian. “Ouch!”
“You wanna sit for a minute?” Seymone asked her, pointing to a nearby bench in front of a PetSmart.
“Sure,” Paisley said. As soon as she took a seat, a small dog came running up to her.
“Biggie! Biggie, come back.” A little blonde girl came running behind it. The dog jumped into Paisley’s lap and she squealed.
“Oh my goodness,” Seymone laughed, reaching for the small dog and passing it t
o the girl.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the little girl said.
“Meagan!” a woman called. “You’d better get that dog back on the leash right now!”
“I am, Mom.” The little girl took the dog and slipped the leash on it.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said as she walked up. “Paisley, is that you?”
Paisley saw that it was one of her clients from The Playground. “Hey there, Christie! How are you?”
“I’m doing great now that I see you’re OK. Lord knows we’ve been missing you. When is The Playground opening back up?”
“Soon,” Paisley assured her. “This is my friend, Seymone. She’s gonna take over the classes for a while.”
“Nice to meet you, Seymone. I’m glad to hear that because you know my husband has been in Iraq for seven months and he’ll be home soon. I gotta have some moves for him, ladies!”
“We got you covered,” Seymone laughed.
The dog started barking and Paisley reached down and patted its head. “Aww. It’s so cute. I want one!”
“Stop lying,” Seymone laughed. “You don’t even like dogs.”
“What kind is it?”
“A Yorkie and a pain,” Christie said. “We’ve gotta go. I will be seeing you next week then, right?”
Paisley nodded. “Classes start next week.” They hugged and waved good-bye.
“She’s nice,” Seymone commented. “She doesn’t look like the type that would be taking classes at The Playground.”
“Honey, please. I have all the undercover freaks from Wisteria Lane,” Paisley laughed, referring to the clients that she called “Desperate Housewives.”
Suddenly, she felt as if someone was staring at them. She turned around, hoping to catch whoever it was, but didn’t see anyone. Her eyes scanned the parking lot, and she saw the black Jaguar with dark tint that she swore she had seen driving by her house the night someone was in her room.
“Well, well, well. I thought I was dreaming when I passed by and saw that ugly-ass truck parked outside.”
Paisley looked up from the chair she was sitting in and stuck her middle finger up at Scooter, who had walked into the main dance room where she was guiding Seymone through one of the aerobic floor routines to the tune of “Don’t Cha” by the Pussycat Dolls. Seymone walked over to the stereo and turned down the music. After their little field trip to the mall, instead of hitting a party, they had gone to the studio to start preparing to reopen.
