by La Jill Hunt
Seymone looked over at the guy. “Oh, hey! How are you?”
Paisley was even more confused. “You know him?”
“Yeah, he’s the guy who helped us that day at the hospital when we went to see Warren. He got us out of the craziness that Kollette started,” Paisley replied. “You’re one of Warren’s security guys.”
Paisley instantly recalled who the guy was and felt embarrassed. “That’s right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all good,” the guy said, unsmiling.
“Well, we’ll double check the outside premises, just to make sure. Landon, nice seeing you again.” The officer extended his hand and the guy shook it.
“I’ll catch you guys sometime next week, hopefully,” he told them.
“Will do,” the cop said.
“Uh, people are kinda staring. I think we should take this inside.” Fallon pointed out the ladies who were now gathered in the lobby.
They all went inside and assured everyone that everything was fine. Paisley, Fallon, and the guy, whose name Paisley assumed was Mr. Landon, went into her office.
“Have a seat, Mr. Landon,” Paisley offered.
“Landon,” he corrected her.
“That’s what I said,” she reacted. She sensed that he had an attitude, and gave him a once over.
“Landon is my first name. My last name is Malone,” he informed her.
Fallon sat down and he sat beside her. “Well, Mr. Malone . . .”
“Landon,” he repeated.
“Landon,” Fallon said, “how can we help you? Why are you here? And why were you creeping around outside?”
“I was checking things out, basically,” he replied.
“Checking them out for what?” Paisley leaned on the edge of her desk and waited for his answer.
“To familiarize myself with the outside of this location, the parking lot, the doors, et cetera.” He stared at Paisley. His eyes were piercing, as if he was trying to intimidate her, but she was never one to back down easily.
“What? You were casing my place? Because that’s what it sounds like you were doing.” She paused. “Are you working for the tabloids? I know that’s how you security cats are.”
“Is that really what you think I was doing?” She could hear the anger in his voice, but she didn’t care.
“No, Landon, I think she’s just trying to figure out why you’re here, that’s all. You of all people should know that with everything that’s happened, it does seem a little weird for you to show up out of nowhere,” Fallon explained.
“Okay, no one called and told you I was coming?” he asked Fallon.
“No, why would they?” Fallon was now confused.
“I was hired as Ms. Lawrence’s personal security. I’m to be with her twenty-four, seven. She’s my new assignment,” he announced as he sat back in the chair and folded his arms.
“You’re kidding, right?” Paisley asked. “This is some kind of joke.”
“No, it’s not,” he told her.
“Who the hell hired you?” Paisley demanded.
“I don’t ask any questions, OK? The agency I work for called and told me my assignment changed. They pay me and I just go where I’m assigned,” he said.
“And how long did they pay you for?” Fallon asked. Paisley frowned at her and she commented, “I’m just wondering.”
“Right now, six months,” Landon answered.
“What?”
“That’s deep.”
Paisley and Fallon both spoke at the same time.
The bell rang, startling them all. Paisley looked up at the monitor and saw Scooter standing at the door.
“I forgot he was coming,” she said as she buzzed him in.
“Where the hell are the police? Did they catch that fool and take him away?” Scooter walked in, dressed in a shirt and tie, his suit jacket casually tossed over his shoulder.
“No, we have the suspect in custody.” Fallon giggled.
“That’s not funny,” Paisley replied.
“Nice shades,” Fallon commented to Scooter. “Let me see them real quick.”
“Hell no, these are Dior, special order. You ain’t touching ’em,” he quickly told her. Looking over and seeing Landon, he asked, “Who are you?”
“Landon Malone,” Landon answered.
“He’s Paisley’s new personal security,” Fallon informed him.
“Personal security?” Scooter looked at Paisley. “You hired him?”
“I didn’t hire anybody,” Paisley said.
“Someone hired him for her,” Fallon said. “Landon, I can give you a tour of the premises, as you said. I can also fill you in on the other stuff that’s been going on.”
Scooter stepped aside as Fallon and Landon exited the office. When they were gone, he said, “Who hired this guy? Do we even know he’s legitimate?”
“He’s legitimate. He’s worked for Warren. I saw him when I was in the hospital,” she told him.
“So, I guess Warren hired him for you.” Scooter stared at Paisley, waiting for her answer.
Something about the way he asked made her uncomfortable. “I don’t know . . . I doubt it. I really don’t know who hired him.”
“Then fire him,” Scooter said. “This guy coulda been hired by the tabloids or working in cahoots with the crazy dude who’s stalking you. Tell him his services aren’t needed and he needs to leave.”
The thoughts in Paisley’s head were going a mile a minute. She had wondered herself if Warren had hired Landon. Landon has been working for Warren, and Warren did tell me he was going to take care of it and make sure I was safe. He would have only had to make one phone call to have Landon’s assignment changed. That would make sense. It has to be Warren. Then again, what if Landon is working for a tabloid or, even worse, with this crazy-ass stalker? I don’t know.
“Wow, Paisley, someone hired your ass a bodyguard.” Seymone’s head popped into the office. “What’s up, Scooter?”
“Hey, Seymone, what’s good?” Scooter looked her up and down. “Nice outfit.”
“Shut up,” she told him.
“Look, you want me to fire him for you?” Scooter turned and asked Paisley.
“Fire who?” Seymone asked.
“That Landon cat,” Scooter replied.
“Why? I think having him around is a good thing. Makes sense to me,” Seymone said.
“We don’t know anything about him. We don’t even know who hired him. Do we even know he’s really hired? Did you see a contract confirming that?” Scooter demanded.
“He just got here moments before you did, Scooter. I’m still trying to figure all this out.” Paisley’s wrist began itching in her cast, making her even more irritated.
“Okay, we have a pretty good idea who hired him, especially since he was working for Warren. And it’ll only take a phone call to check him out. Let’s be real, if someone meant to harm Paisley, would they go outta their way and hire someone to protect her? That’s crazy. Paisley’s not the only person dealing with this stalker issue. I live with her, and the thought of having a trained security guy around makes me feel a little better about this entire situation.”
“That’s true,” Paisley commented.
“Oh, I guess I was just there for decoration, huh?” Scooter glared at Seymone.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Scooter. Don’t start tripping.” Seymone gave him an apologetic look.
“I ain’t tripping. It’s all good, baby girl.” He shrugged.
“I gota class to teach.” Seymone walked out.
“You know she didn’t mean anything by that, Scooter,” Paisley said softly. “I’m gonna check Landon out and make sure this whole thing is legit. If it is, having him nearby makes sense. You know I appreciate your being here for me, but you got your own stuff you gotta take care of. The club opens in three weeks and I don’t feel like hearing Diesel and Leo popping off at the mouth because you’ve been hanging around me instead of handling your business.”
“I knew you were gonna take it there.”
“No, this is where I wanna take it.” He leaned in and kissed her gently, taking her by surprise. It had been so long since she had felt a man’s lips on hers, and it felt so good, that she forgot about who it was kissing her. Before she realized it, she was kissing Scooter back.
“Paisley, what . . . Oh, sorry.” Fallon’s voice interrupted them.
Paisley quickly stepped back, feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the candy jar. “What’s up?”
“I . . . uh . . . oh, I just wanted to know what the rest of your schedule looked like,” Fallon said quickly.
“Right now, I don’t even know,” Paisley said. “I got some calls I gotta make. After that, it’s hard to say.”
Scooter looked down at his watch and said, “I got a meeting to get to. I’ll call you later and check on you, okay?”
“Yeah.” Paisley nodded.
He leaned over to kiss her again, but this time Paisley moved her head and instead of getting her mouth, his lips landed on her cheek. She glanced over at Landon, who was staring, and she quickly looked away.
Ebonie
All right, I’ll be the first to admit that I took the job working for Warren Cobb because I thought he was the sexiest thing to ever grace the gospel stage, and I wanted to get with him. Yeah, it paid very well, and it was the opportunity of a lifetime, especially for someone who had literally just graduated from Tuskegee with a business degree. But I had an agenda, and an ulterior motive: I wanted Warren Cobb. That voice, those songs, that man, I wanted him. Then, I found out, Warren was married. Not only was he married, but he was married to, for lack of a better term, a bitch. A fat, ugly bitch at that (forgive me, Lord). How the hell Kollette managed to rope him in and get him to put a ring on her finger, I will never know. But, unfortunately, she was Mrs. Warren Cobb and he was my boss. I learned two things early on: one, she made sure everyone knew that she was his wife, and two, Warren really didn’t like her. I mean, anyone close to him couldn’t help but notice that he couldn’t stand her. But it was as if she had a root on him and there was nothing he could do about it. He tolerated her for whatever reason.
Warren was resilient when it came to work. He toured nonstop and when he wasn’t, he was locked away in a studio somewhere working on a project. It got to the point where he told me instead of “asking” if he wanted to do a gig, “tell” him the gigs he was working. He didn’t care whether it was big or small, I was to book it. His dedication to his ministry was remarkable. I had never seen anything like it before in my life, and it made him even more appealing not only to his fans, but to me as well. The man was relentless. After a while, I realized the reason he worked so hard and so much was so that he wouldn’t have to be at home. I didn’t blame him though. I had more than my fair share of being laid out by Kollette for working Warren so hard. She blamed his constant travelling on me.
I knew that in addition to handling damage control after the accident with Warren and Paisley, I was gonna have to deal with Kollette in some capacity. After all, as she pointed out to me for the umpteenth time, she was Mrs. Warren Cobb. But she was getting on my last damn nerve and I was tempted to curse her out and quit.
“Ebonie!” Kollette screamed as she and Neil, who was the bishop’s son, walked into Ebonie’s office. The sound of her voice made Ebonie’s blood boil.
“Yes, Kollette,” Ebonie said as calmly as she could.
“Did you set up the interview with the 700 Club for me and Warren?”
“I scheduled the interview for next Thursday, Kollette. But it’s only for Warren. They didn’t mention anything about having you there,” Ebonie replied.
“What do you mean? Warren is recovering from a horrific accident. Not only did he almost die, but he had a video ho in the car with him. I think I need to be there to show the solidarity of my marriage,” Kollette snapped.
“That’s smart,” Neil said as he gave Ebonie a snide look. It took everything within her not to turn her nose up. She didn’t like him any more than she liked Kollette. Neil was the adopted son of Bishop Arnold, Kollette’s uncle. Besides the fact that he and Kollette were always together, there was something about them that made Ebonie think that they were more than the “cousins” they claimed to be. They were a little too touchy-feely for her taste.
“Warren wants to do it alone. He feels that would be best,” Ebonie informed her.
“Well, I’m telling you that I’m gonna be there with him. Set it up. And set up one with BET. People need to recognize that Warren Cobb does have a wife and whether they like it or not, he’s happily married. Maybe if I had been with him at more of these appearances you’ve been scheduling over the years, that skank Paisley wouldn’t have felt so comfortable jumping in the car with him.”
“That may be true,” Neil said, touching Kollette’s back.
Ebonie’s only response was to stare at them.
“Speaking of that skank, did you tell her agent she’d better stay away from Warren or I’ma blow up her spot?”
“I have that situation taken care of,” Ebonie responded.
“Good, now take care of the interview. Call and let them know Mr. and Mrs. Cobb are looking forward to it.” Kollette walked out the door. Neil looked back and gave Ebonie a wink before following right behind her.
Ebonie reached for the phone and called Warren, telling him about his wife’s request.
“Don’t change anything,” he advised her.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” she assured him. “I know better.”
“I know you do, and I appreciate it. Did you take care of the other thing?”
Warren had assured her that he and Paisley were merely passing acquaintances, but Ebonie knew better. Kollette had called her first thing Monday morning, going off about Paisley calling Warren’s phone. Ebonie immediately called Warren to let him know Kollette was snooping, and he said fine. He then told her to call the security company Landon Malone worked for and have him sent to Paisley, and prepay them for six months. Ebonie didn’t ask any questions, and he didn’t offer any answers. She did what she was told. That’s how it was between them. I got an agenda, and an ulterior motive.
Chapter 12
“So, how do we do this?” Paisley asked Landon. The last class had ended and they were ready to leave. Fallon called and let her know that she had checked with Full Armor Security, the company Landon worked for, and they verified that his services had been retained for her for the next six months. The only other thing they would tell her was that it was paid for.
“Where are we headed now?” Landon asked.
“Home,” Paisley answered, tugging at the cast that was again itching.
“Well, you can go ahead and I’ll follow you in my car.”
“Oh, I thought I had to ride with you.” She shrugged.
“I’m your security, not your chauffer.”
I really don’t like him, she thought. “I didn’t say that you were. Seymone, are you ready?”
“Yeah.” Seymone’s voice drifted down the hallway.
“Is this what time you leave every day?” Landon asked.
“Most days. We do have night classes two nights a week. But the studio is just reopening and we haven’t really gotten back into our regular schedule yet,” she answered, passing him one of the monthly calendars with the normal schedule on it.
“Strip-Hop, Floor Play, Pump & Grind, Pole Seduction,” Landon read the class titles aloud, “Ho Down, Hell on Heels?”
“Yep, we offer a broad variety of classes,” she said, nodding. He continued to stare at her and she asked, “What? This is a playground for women.”
“I didn’t say nothing.” Shaking his head, he folded the paper and put it into his back pocket. From the way he said it, Paisley could sense his disapproval. It was the same disapp
roving look her mother had when she saw Paisley on a magazine cover. The same look of disgust that the women at the physical therapy clinic gave her when she praised a male patient. The look that made her feel like even though she knew that she was doing what she wanted to do in life, and living out all of her dreams, she should feel unworthy.
“Seymone, hurry up,” Paisley yelled, twisting her arm back and forth, trying once again to ease the constant itching.
A few moments later, Seymone met them at the front door, her gym bag in one hand and Paisley’s keys in the other. “I’m ready.”
“It’s about time.” Paisley snatched the door open, glaring at Seymone. “What are you waiting for? You have the keys and I have to set the alarm and lock the door.”
Seymone aimed the keys at Paisley’s truck and hit the button. The truck chirped and the lights flashed. “Truck’s unlocked. Go ahead and I can lock up.”
“Hold up a sec,” Landon told her. “Let me go out first.”
Paisley followed him, watching as he looked around. He opened the door for her and helped her get in. She mumbled a brief, “Thanks.”
“Uh, nice truck. But, considering everything that’s going on right now, you may wanna think about getting a vehicle that’s a little less conspicuous,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and closed the door. She watched him get into his black Intrepid. Just as they were about to back out, a large, silver Hummer pulled behind them.
“Who the hell is that?” Seymone asked.
Paisley’s heart began pounding and she became nervous as she looked in the rearview mirror. The door to the huge truck opened and a tall figure jumped out. She relaxed as she recognized the guy and opened her own door. “Girl, it’s Python!”
Python headed toward her, his own security guard, Mack, right beside him. Before they made it to her truck, Landon was rushing after them, yelling. Mack turned around, his hand resting under his shirt. Paisley knew Mack carried a gun and had no problem using it when it came to protecting Python. She didn’t hesitate as she jumped out of the car and toward the three men.
“Mack, it’s cool!” she yelled out.
