“I’ve got an idea,” Brenetta said, perking up.
Shawn eyed her suspiciously. “What is it? I’m really not in the mood for nonsense. This is serious.”
He listened intently as Brenetta outlined her plan of action. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he was running out of ideas.
“That’s something I’ll have to mull over for a while. It’s too risky to bring up right now. Let’s go to dinner. I’m starved.”
In Florida, Sharmaine stretched leisurely as she lay on the beach. She watched the clouds float by, feeling peaceful and content. The home she and Leon purchased there was in a secluded area with a private beach. Seagulls flew over her as she marveled at God’s majesty in the sound of the waves.
Her cell phone suddenly began ringing in her backpack, disturbing the calm atmosphere. Reluctantly, she pulled it out and answered. “Hello.”
“Have you lost your ever loving mind, Sharmaine?” she heard a familiar male voice ask.
“Chase?”
“Yeah, it’s me, Chase. Now answer my question.”
Sharmaine sat up on her multi-colored beach towel. “I don’t know what you are talking about. What’s wrong?
“Don’t play the innocent act with me, Sharmaine. I only signed on to do that stupid movie in the first place because of Marshall Vitowski. How dare you pull a stunt like this?”
“Like what? Chase, slow down and just tell me what you are talking about.”
“The studio is postponing the release of the movie. Don’t sit there and pretend you didn’t know.”
“What? No, I’m on vacation with my family. I had no idea.”
“Right, you are on vacation while my career is plummeting to the ground because of you,” he yelled.
“Why are they postponing? I always release during Christmas weekend. It’s a tradition. Besides, I always win the numbers.”
“Are you dense or what? The studio execs have seen that sex tape you made. You know, that’s why I don’t believe in religion. You fake Christians really get under my skin.”
Sharmaine cringed at the mention of the tape, but she was more annoyed by Chase calling her a fake Christian.
“That’s not me on that tape, Chase. You have to bel—”
Chase cut her off before she could get out the word believe.“Sharmaine, please, I spent months with you and I’ve seen the video. It’s definitely you. How could you be so careless and stupid?”
Sharmaine’s heart began to beat faster and she felt nauseated. If her own co-star believed she was in the video, how could she convince anyone else otherwise? She took a deep breath and tried to reason with Chase. “Listen, I know what it looks like, but my reputation should speak for itself.”
“I don’t care about your reputation. My Dad was a Baptist minister with six kids spread out all over the city that he didn’t have with my mother. But that never tarnished his reputation. At least he was smart enough to keep his skeletons in the closet until after he died. All of you religious types are the same. You live one way in the public eye, but behind closed doors you are worst of all.”
His words cut deep, and Sharmaine felt tears stinging her face. “Chase, I’m sorry that you got caught up in this. I promise you this will all blow over soon, and I’m sure by next year the studio will change their minds.”
“Blow over? No, you need to get on the phone and convince them to move ahead with this now. You are not gonna kill my career because of your stupidity.”
“Why won’t you calm down and just listen to me?”
“Tell them it was a mistake. Tell them you were drunk. Or tell them aliens inhabited your body. I don’t care. Just fix this, Sharmaine!” Chase screamed then violently hung up the phone.
Sharmaine sat stunned for several minutes, trying to calm down. She wiped at her tears, but they continued to flow. Suddenly, she grabbed her backpack and towel from the beach and rushed back to the house.
As she approached the house, Leon sat playing Scrabble with the kids by the pool.
“What is I-D-K? That’s not a word,” Rodney said to Camille.
“It’s an abbreviation for I don’t know,” she answered.
Leon laughed at them both. “Sorry, but you have to use real words, honey,” he said. His attention shifted from the game as he noticed Sharmaine rushing by. “I’ll be right back,” he said to the kids.
He followed the sound of Sharmaine’s sandals clicking across the hardwood floors, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He found her lying across the bed in her red swimsuit. He watched her body convulse back and forth as she silently cried.
Slowly, he sat down on the bed and gently reached out to her. “What’s wrong? he asked quietly.
Sharmaine sat up to face him. In between sobs she managed to relay the information of the phone call with Chase. “This is not all blowing over, Leon. First Keisha says Shawn wants to cancel the CD release; now the studio has postponed the movie. What am I going to do?”
“It’s a long time before next Christmas, honey. Chase is overreacting.”
“Maybe you’re right. He did seem a bit overly theatrical when I worked with him. I just thought it was the mark of a good actor.”
“This is his first leading man role, honey. He’s a bit anxious, that’s all. You’ll see once you start the tour; your fans will remind you why you are so successful.”
“My fans hate me. Have you forgotten about the incident at the mall?” She sniffed loudly and wiped at her tears.
“Don’t let the actions of a few ignorant people sway you. Shawn agreed to go ahead with the CD release. He has faith in you. I know that once you get onstage and those songs of praise start floating up to heaven, none of this will be important anymore. I’m sure of it.”
Sharmaine rested her head on Leon’s strong shoulder. “Thank you for believing in me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never get a chance to find out either.”
The next morning, Sharmaine, Leon, and the kids boarded a plane and flew back to Atlanta. A mob of reporters greeted them at the airport, screaming questions and flashing cameras. Sharmaine and Leon shielded the kids from the paparazzi as best they could. Finally, Keisha arrived with a limo, allowing them to escape the frenzy as they returned to their Buck head estate. A media circus was set up outside the sprawling gates as the family arrived. The limousine carefully navigated the circular driveway, finally bringing them to a place of solitude in front of their home.
Later that evening, after they’d all shared dinner together, Sharmaine and Keisha retreated to her office for business.
“How are things looking for the tour?” Sharmaine asked as she sat down on her sofa.
“The good news is that the tour is still on. None of the promoters have cancelled your dates. Shawn’s influence had a lot to do with that.”
“Why did Shawn have to get involved at all? He said he wasn’t cancelling the release.”
Keisha hesitated before responding. “Ticket sales are way down, and some places have been forced to give refunds. None of your dates have sold out the way they have in the past.”
“What about the interviews? Did Tyra’s show change their minds?”
“No, honey, I’m sorry, but they didn’t. Don’t worry. I’m waiting to hear back from Billy Wayne’s gospel hour. I think they will agree to feature you.”
“I hate to sound elitist, but they are so small. They are not seen in any markets outside of Atlanta. Are you sure you couldn’t book me on a bigger name show?”
Keisha sighed. “There are plenty of shows that want to book you, but you know the stipulations.”
“I am not going to discuss that tape. Have you tried to reach 106 and Gospel or the Bobby Jones Gospel show? I would think the body of Christ would support me at this time.”
Keisha put her head in her hands for a brief moment to try to think. She’d placed phone calls to every major and minor show she could think of. It wasn’t as easy as Sharmaine thought.
She sat quietly for several moments before speaking again. “Listen, Sharmaine, the gospel shows are afraid to feature you. They are afraid of how their audience will react. You haven’t made any statements except a press release to deny, and that is not working. Please, won’t you at least consider discussing it?”
Sharmaine stood up from the sofa and began pacing around the room. “What do you want me to say, Keisha? It’s not me. What else is there to say?”
“It’s not what you say, Sharmaine, but how you say it. I think if you went on one of these shows and made a passionate plea of your innocence, it could help.”
“Keisha, I am innocent. Why do I have to make a plea?” She stopped pacing and stared at her friend, waiting for an answer.
“I just think if the fans could look into your eyes and your face when you say it’s not you ...” Keisha paused briefly. “I think that they would believe you.”
Sharmaine walked over and stared out of the window onto the grounds of her estate for several moments without answering. She wondered if proclaiming her innocence in front of cameras was the right thing to do. In her mind, she imagined the audience hanging on to her every word and giving her a standing ovation. Then she imagined the crowd turning ugly and attacking her. She imagined people spewing insults and accusations at her. She saw the screens flashing the images of the woman in the sex tape over and over again.
She suddenly turned around to face Keisha again. “No, I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. You have to think of something else.”
Keisha sighed heavily. “I’m trying. I promise you. I am trying.”
Sharmaine reached out and gave her friend a long hug. “I know you are, sweetie. Thank you.”
That evening, Sharmaine kissed each of her children good night before sending them upstairs to their beds.
“I’m going to check my phone messages before turning in,” she yelled over her shoulder to Leon. She turned to walk toward her office.
“Oh, no you are not,” he said. He grabbed her playfully around her waist.
“But, honey, I need to. I might have some important calls.”
Leon did not answer; instead, he began to shower her face and neck with sensuous and loving kisses.
“I have rehearsals really early—” Her words were cut off as his lips enveloped hers. Sharmaine gave up the fight and silently followed Leon upstairs to their bedroom. Leon was the only lover she’d ever had, but as they melded together in passion, she instinctively knew there could be none better.
The next morning when she awakened, Sharmaine was surprised to find that she was alone in bed. She looked around the room for Leon, and assumed he’d gotten up already and gone downstairs. She grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and put it on; then she strolled out into the hallway. Outside her bedroom she stopped, suddenly frozen with fear. She saw large splatters of something red on her beige carpet, trickling down the hallway leading to the stairs. Frightened, she followed the spots until she found their source. At the bottom of the stairs she saw Leon lying face down with his body covered in blood. She screamed and ran to him.
“Leon, are you all right? Leon!” She screamed louder.
The front door suddenly opened and Consuela walked in.
“Call 911 now!” Sharmaine screamed. She cradled Leon’s head in her arms as she cried frantically. Praying, she waited for help to arrive and wondered what had happened.
Several hours later, as she sat in the police interrogation room, Sharmaine still could not make sense of the morning’s events.
“Why did you shoot your husband, Mrs. Cleveland?” the police detective asked.
“I didn’t shoot him. I’ve told you that over and over. I woke up this morning and found him at the bottom of the stairs like that.” Sharmaine sat in the cold steel chair feeling frightened and confused.
“Mrs. Cleveland, we found the gun in the trash can outside your home. It has your fingerprints all over it. Why did you shoot him?” the detective asked again.
“Stop saying that! Did you find my children? Why aren’t you looking for my children?”
“I think you know where your children are Mrs. Cleveland.”
“No, I don’t. I told you they were not in the house. Someone broke in and shot my husband, then took my children. Why won’t you believe me?” Sharmaine pleaded.
“This is getting us nowhere, and frankly, I’m tired of it. You spoiled, rich celebrities seem to think you can do anything and get away with it. Well, not in my district. I just hope your husband survives so he can fill us in.”
Sharmaine put her head in her hands and wept with relief that Leon was still alive. “Is he going to be all right?” she asked through her tears.
“You better pray that he is; otherwise you’re facing murder one charges.” The tall black detective stood up and opened the door. “Jeff, go ahead and book her. She’s not willing to cooperate,” he said to the uniformed officer who was standing outside. He gave Sharmaine one last disgusted look, then walked out of the office.
Somberly, Sharmaine followed the officer out of the room to the booking area. Quietly, she handed the attendant her clothing, underwear, jewelry, and dignity. She felt humiliated after being asked to strip naked, and then every cavity of her body was searched. After being dressed in a prison jumpsuit, she was photographed, fingerprinted, and placed into a holding cell.
Sharmaine immediately noticed a payphone hanging on the wall. She ran to it and dialed Keisha’s number. The operator allowed it to ring over and over, but there was no answer. Dejected, she sat down on the floor and waited.
Sharmaine spent the next three days in the dirty, cold cell crying and praying. As desolate as she felt, she had to believe that God had not forsaken her, and somehow He would work it out. In her mind, she recited the words of the apostle Paul as he sang in prison, trying not to be consumed with the hopelessness of her situation. She tried repeatedly to reach Keisha with no success. Finally, late Sunday evening, Keisha picked up the line.
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all weekend,” Sharmaine screamed into the line.
“Sharmaine, I’m sorry. I just got back into town. Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not. Think about it, Keisha. I’m in jail, and they think I shot Leon. I don’t know where my kids are. Of course I am not okay.”
“I’m sorry. I just meant are you okay physically. I know that you can’t be okay in there. Oh, and the kids are in North Carolina with Leon’s parents,” Keisha answered.
“They are? How do you know that?”
“I took them myself. Leon asked me to after what happened at the airport. You were still asleep when I picked them up, but I assumed he told you.”
“What are you talking about, Keisha? When did you pick them up?”
“Early Thursday morning. Leon said you had to be in Atlanta for work, but he felt it wasn’t good for the children with everything that’s going on. I’m sorry. I thought you knew.
“I didn’t know, but thank God they are safe. The police didn’t believe me when I said they were missing. Thank you, Keisha. I’ve been so worried. Thank you so much. Hurry and get my attorney on the line. I don’t think I can take another night in this place.”
“I spoke to Victor as soon as I heard the news. He told me that you have a bond hearing tomorrow morning. There’s nothing we can do until then.” Keisha paused. “Sharmaine, what happened? Did you and Leon have a fight?”
“I don’t know what happened. I came downstairs and Leon had been shot. You have to believe me.” Sharmaine started to cry. “This whole situation is unbelievable.”
“Calm down, honey. I believe you,” Keisha said.
“How is he? They won’t tell me anything in here.”
“He was shot four times at close range. His condition has been upgraded from critical to serious. That’s all I could find out.” Keisha heard Sharmaine weeping loudly into the phone. “Listen, just try to relax and get some sleep. Victor and I will be there first
thing in the morning to get you out of there. Everything’s going to be okay.”
The next morning, Sharmaine felt as if she were in a nightmare as she stood before the judge and listened to the charge against her. She stood silently as the judge stated she’d been charged with the attempted murder of Leon Terrence Cleveland, and her heart skipped a beat. The judge then set bail at one hundred thousand dollars. Sharmaine stood quietly while Keisha paid the bond and Victor asked for special permission for her to be released into his custody, without going back to the jail for processing. After several moments, she was finally free to go.
“We have to take you out the back way,” Victor whispered when he noticed Sharmaine headed toward the exit.
She peeked through the tiny windows in the door and saw a mob of reporters outside the courtroom. Each one strained to get a glimpse of her. Feeling uneasy, Sharmaine turned and followed Victor and Keisha out of the courtroom door and down the back stairs.
The trio stepped out the back door into the bright Atlanta sunshine.
“Where’s the limo?” Keisha said. She looked around the parking lot, then immediately pulled out her cell phone to make a call. After a brief conversation, she hung up the phone. “He’s stuck out front,” she said. “He can’t get past the reporters.”
“Now what are we going to do?” Sharmaine whined.
“We can take my car. It’s over there. Victor pointed to the left of the parking lot. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
Several moments later, he pulled his late model BMW to the curb where the ladies were standing. Keisha opened the back door, and she and Sharmaine climbed into the car. As she settled into the back seat, Sharmaine breathed a sigh of relief; then she screamed in terror as she felt the car suddenly rocking. A throng of reporters had spotted her and surrounded the car, blocking their exit. Sharmaine ducked down as the flashbulbs went off.
“Do something, Victor, before they turn the car over,” Keisha shrieked.
Victor pressed the gas and revved the engine loudly, and then he rolled down the window. “Move or I’ll run you over,” he yelled.
Losing It Page 3
