14. Nourah Marcell
When I woke up, I was on the couch. I wasn’t even sure how I’d fallen asleep out there, especially since my couch wasn’t the softest thing in the world.
I immediately sat up and had to stretch and crack my back a couple of times before I could even think straight.
I yawned, swung my feet over the edge until they touched the floor, and just sat there for a minute, letting my eyes adjust.
Everything from the night before came rushing back to my head at once.
I went to stand up and heard my phone ringing somewhere close by, vibrating against something. I started fishing around the couch cushions, finally found it wedged down between two of them, and by the time I pulled it out, I saw it was my sister calling. Just as I went to answer, she hung up.
That’s when I noticed the missed calls. Three of them, all from her, all in the last ten minutes.
My eyebrows went straight up, and my stomach dropped a little, ’cause I knew she and Ozy were supposed to be headed to my mama’s house last night to pick up Oaklynn.
I didn’t know if something had happened over there or what.
I called her right back, clearing my throat and already pacing my living room floor, nerves shooting through me, eyes wide open now, fully awake.
She picked up before the first ring even finished. She didn’t even give me a chance to say hello.
“Check your phone,” was all she said.
I pulled it from my ear and put her on speaker, then swiped over to my messages. She’d sent me a link to some kind of article. I clicked it open, and my mouth dropped as soon as the headline loaded.
There was Ginger’s face, all bruised up, which she deserved, but apparently, getting her face rearranged wasn’t enough to keep her mouth shut, ’cause she was still out here talking shit.
The blog said Ozy had a baby because he cheated on her, said Noree was the woman he’d been creeping with, and said Noree attacked her for no reason. Just lie after lie stacked on top of each other.
“Bitch, I know you lying,” I said, still scrolling, still not believing what I was reading.
“No, I wish. Nou Nou… I don’t even know what to do or think right now.”
“Where you at?”
“Home now. We stayed the night at Mama’s and then ate breakfast over there before heading back.
The whole ride here, Ozy was on the phone with his manager trying to do some kind of damage control.
” She paused. “I just don’t understand what her vendetta with me is.
Like… that bitch is weird. And that wasn’t her business to tell for the second damn time. ”
I stopped my pacing for a second and let a little snicker slip out. “Well, I ain’t gon’ lie. You definitely fucked her up. And she mad ’cause she could never be you, period, point-blank.” Then I got curious. “What did his manager say, though?”
“I only heard a little bit of it, but he said it’d be best if we went ahead and dropped our song and started doing promo for it, trying to flip this whole thing into a positive. But sis… how can this be flipped, though?” she added.
I couldn’t say I knew for sure, but I’d seen enough celebrity mess play out online to know how this game worked. “Honestly, the people on his team get paid top dollar just to fix scandals exactly like this. Trust me, if his manager already got it in motion, it’s gon’ be handled.”
There was another pause on her end. Then I said, “Anddd, are you telling me my big sis is about to be on the radio? Possibly billboards? Tours? Performances? Sis, this is what we’ve been waiting for.”
I could hear the smile creeping into her voice even though she was trying to play it cool.
“Yes, but not like this. It’s exciting and nerve-racking at the same time, ’cause what if people think I’m a homewrecker, like I stole him right from under her nose or something?
That’s not even the type of person I am.
I was already on the fence about dealing with him back then ’cause him and her were under that stupid contract, but I didn’t do anything wrong.
They weren’t even in a real relationship, but that’s not something they can just come out and say. The world thinks they were.”
“Yeah, you right. But people gon’ think what the fuck they wanna think regardless of what actually happened. You’re a bomb-ass singer and a bomb-ass mom, and we’re coming for that bomb-ass Grammy too. Fuck Ginger and her black-and-blue-ass face.”
She laughed a little, and I smiled hearing it, glad I could pull that out of her even with everything going on.
“Don’t get too much in your feelings,” I told her.
I headed for the kitchen, thirsty as hell. I grabbed a bottle of water and damn near downed it.
“I’ll try.”
“Oh! And before I forget… Bitch, why the fuck was PB over here last night? His baby mama showed up and tried to shoot him in my fucking apartment.”
“What? His baby mama tried to shoot him?” Her voice jumped about three octaves. “Sissy, are you okay? That’s more important than what the fuck I got going on. All of that can wait.”
“I’m good,” I told her, and I meant it. “I was a little shaken up then, but as of now, I’m good. But that’s not the only thing that happened.”
I went ahead and told her everything, the whole fight between PB and Carl, all of it. I couldn’t see her face since we weren’t on FaceTime, but I was almost certain her mouth was hanging open wide enough to let flies in by the time I finished.
“Shit. You had a complicated-ass day yesterday. I never took Carl to be the type to throw the first punch.”
“Me either. But he can kiss my ass after yesterday, for real. I was thinking about having another conversation with him until he showed up disrespecting me and PB both.”
“Damn,” Noree said. “I guess it was revenge of the exes yesterday.”
“Well, Paisley ain’t exactly PB’s ex, but I know what you mean.”
“Look at you being territorial over your man,” she teased.
I laughed. “That man is not my man. I was just saying because she was never anything more than just sex and just so happened to get a baby out of him.”
“Mhm,” she said, and I could hear the smirk in it. I was about to argue back when she stopped short. “Hold on, girl.”
I heard her shuffling around on her end, something moving in the background.
“Girl, I think this is Ozy. He was still sitting in the car when the driver dropped us off, finishing up a phone call. I thought he left… Yeah… it’s him. Let me call you back and get Oaklynn situated and make sure she’s good. It’s lunchtime, and you know how my baby gets about her food.”
“Wait, how was their first meetup?”
“Girl… it was everything I ever could’ve imagined. Their bond was so cute. I took pictures and everything… You need me to come over there later, though?”
“No, trust me, I’m good.”
“Alright. I love you. I’ll tell you all about it later…”
“I love you too.”
We hung up, and I headed straight to the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and turned the shower on to get it heating up. I removed my robe and hung it on the back of the bathroom door. I was just about to undress when my phone buzzed on the counter.
PB: Can I see you?
I picked it up, read his message, and decided not to reply. Then I heard what sounded like a knock. I wasn’t even sure I’d heard it right over the running water, so I reached in, cut the shower off, poked my head out of the bathroom door, and heard it again.
I threw my robe back on and headed for the door. I looked through the peephole. It was PB.
I opened it, and he wasn’t alone. Some man stood behind him, dressed sharply in a suit and holding what looked like a garment bag over one arm. PB himself was dressed up too, way more than his usual laid-back fit.
“I wanna take you out,” he said.
I put my hand on my hip. “Well, I have a lot I need to get done today.”
“All I’m asking for is a little bit of your time.”
I glanced past him again at the man standing there quietly, holding that bag. “Okay. But who’s he?” I pointed.
“This is for you.” PB nodded toward the man, who stepped forward and handed me the garment bag without a word, his face straight the whole time, real professional about it.
“What’s this?” I carried it over to the couch, PB following me in while the man stayed posted right outside my door, not moving an inch.
I unzipped it, and inside was the prettiest dress I’d ever seen up close. It was a floral peach dress with all these soft layers to it, off the shoulders, and the top looked kind of like a corset. It looked expensive just hanging there on the hanger.
“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” he added.
That’s when my mouth actually dropped, ’cause a whole line of men started walking into my apartment one behind the other, each one carrying a different bouquet of roses and setting them down around my living room before turning right back around and heading out.
I stood there in complete shock, ’cause nobody had done anything like this for me before.
One more man came in after the rest, holding a box. When he took the lid off, there was a pair of heels sitting inside. Gold Giuseppes, the kind I’d been eyeing online for months but had never allowed myself to buy.
“Oh my God…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll have lunch with me.”
I paused for a moment, taking it all in, then sighed. “I-I can’t, PB.”
His expression softened as I continued.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. This…” I pointed at everything surrounding me. “This is beautiful, but your baby mama shot at you in my living room. That’s not something I can just forget right away.”
He nodded slowly. “I understand, but… I don’t wanna leave things between us like this. Can we just…”
I put my hand up. “Honestly…I’m not in the mood for a conversation, Princeton. Not today.”
He stared at me for a few seconds before glancing around at everything he had brought.
“I was hoping you would at least hear me out.”
“And maybe I will, but not right now. I need time to think.”
He looked disappointed, but he nodded. “Aight. My bad for interrupting your day.”
“Mhm.”
PB started toward the door, then stopped and looked back at me.
“I meant what I said, though. I wanna figure this shit out with you. Whenever you’re ready to talk, call me.”
I kept my arms crossed and watched him leave with all the muscle-headed, buff niggas he had arrived with.
Once the door closed, I looked around at the flowers, dress, and shoes surrounding me before shaking my head. Part of me wanted to call him back, but every time I looked toward my living room, I could still hear those gunshots.
It was a nice gesture, but this was definitely not the right fucking time.