You Don't Know Me Like That (7 page)

T
onight was the night. J. Love's party. He'd been out of town all week, but he was supposed to get back this afternoon. I was a little shocked that I hadn't heard from him today. But I did know that he had back-to-back tours, so I gave him a pass.

“Girl, I cannot wait.” Kennedi interrupted my thoughts as she swirled around in her dress. We'd spent all evening in the mall, trying to get ready for the party tonight.

“I can't believe we are actually going to party with J. Love,” Kennedi said.

“Shhhh,” I said. “Keep your voice down. I don't want my mom trippin' about us going to an industry party.”

Kennedi stopped and modeled in front of my full-length mirror.

“Doesn't she know that you're a celebrity?”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” I pushed my diamond hoop earrings through my ears. “But she's still on that ‘you're still underage, and as long as you're under my roof, you'll do as I say' routine.”

“Man, that sucks,” Kennedi said.

I handed her backpack to her. “So take that dress off and just put your stuff in here. We're going to get dressed at Sheridan's house.”

She took the backpack and began stuffing her six-inch heels and makeup bag into it.

She slipped her dress off and put it in the bag, too. “I still don't understand why Sheridan has to go,” she said, slipping on some jeans and a T-shirt.

I took a deep breath. “We have been through this a thousand times. You two are just going to have to learn to get along, because neither one of you is going anywhere.”

“Yeah, but she stabbed you in your back by trying to get with Bryce. You act like you've forgotten that, but I haven't.”

“
And?
You stole Kevin's iPod and blamed it on me.”

“That was in the sixth grade!” Kennedi protested.

“Whatever, the point is, I forgave you. So chill with all the negativity.” I went back to packing, taking care as I folded my coral sequined minidress and placed it in my bag. I had to make sure I was on point tonight. I had asked J. Love how many of his women would be there tonight, and he had assured me that I would be the only one who mattered.

“Fine, fine,” Kennedi said. “I'm going to have a good time regardless. It's about to be on and poppin',” she said, doing a little dance.

I sent my mom a text to let her know that we were leaving, then we quietly made our way out the back door. Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up to Sheridan's massive seven-bedroom house.

“Hey, Kennedi,” Sheridan said dryly when she answered the door.

Kennedi just raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak.

“Look, you two,” I said, “I'm gonna leave both of your stank behinds here and go to the party by myself if you can't learn to get along.”

“Okay, fine,” Sheridan said, then she did a big, fake, cheesy grin. “Helll-llloo, Kennedi. It's such a pleasure to see you!” she said in a fake excited voice.

“And you, too, dah-ling,” Kennedi replied as they air-kissed.

“Okay, now you guys are going overboard.” I brushed both of them aside as I walked inside Sheridan's house. “Let's go get dressed. I want to be fashionably late, but not too late.”

We went into Sheridan's room and got dressed. We listened to music as we laughed, joked, and teased each other. It felt really good to have my two best friends getting along for a change. I guess the party had us all psyched, so no one was interested in causing any drama tonight.

We took Sheridan's Benz and, an hour later, were sitting in front of the club where J. Love was holding his party.

“Wow, look at that line,” Kennedi said as we pulled up to the valet.

“Ugh, I hope we're not waiting in that, because Sheridan Matthews does not do lines.” Sheridan shook her head like she'd rather turn around and go home before standing in line.

“Girl, please,” I replied. “You know I'm not waiting in nobody's line.” I sashayed to the front of the line.

“Where they think they're going?” some girl yelled.

“Get to the back of the line,” someone else shouted.

It was Kennedi who turned around and said to the second girl in her Chris Brown voice, “Why you hatin' from outside the club? You can't even get in.”

We all busted out laughing.

“We were here first. We've been waiting forever,” the girl next to her shouted. She had on a super-short miniskirt and a tank top. Both her friend and her had on cheap patent leather heels, so I know their feet had to be killing them.

“And you're
still
going to be waiting,” Sheridan told her.

“Yep, wait out here with the other riffraff.” Kennedi laughed.

“I got your riffraff,” the girl in the miniskirt said.

“You just tagging along anyway,” her friend chimed in.

“Whatever, loser,” Kennedi said. “Gimme your number. I'll text you and tell you how the party is inside.”

Sheridan and she high-fived each other. I shook my head and turned my attention to the bouncer.

“Hi, I'm Maya Morgan. I should be on the VIP list,” I said, pointing to his clipboard.

He scanned the list. “Umm, I don't see your name.”

“Well, then you need to look again. I'm sure it's there,” I said confidently.

He glanced down, then back up. “I'm sure it's not.”

“I was personally invited by J. Love.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and looked at me like I was lying. “Your name isn't on the list. Get to the back of the line.”

Oh, he was trippin' for real. Sheridan and Kennedi were no longer laughing and had moved in closer to me to see what was going on.

“Umm, I'm sorry, do you know who I am?” I said.

“Umm, I'm sorry, do you know I don't care who you are? You're not on the list, so get to the back of the line.”

The girls who Kennedi and Sheridan had gotten into it with were eating this up. One of them had actually pulled out her phone and started recording us.

Kennedi leaned over to me. “What's going on, Maya?” she whispered.

“Just chill,” I said. “I'm sorry.” I flashed a smile at the bouncer. He was about seven-feet tall, so my getting an attitude would get us nowhere. I needed to pull out the charm. “I'm Maya Morgan, the host of
Rumor Central
.”

“Well, I'm Tank, the bouncer, and your name
still
isn't on the list,” he said in a gruff voice.

“You don't understand,” I said, slowly losing confidence, “J. Love and I are . . . special friends.”

“Oh, I understand. You're just like every other chicken head out here claiming to know J. Love so you can skip to the front of the line.”

Did this fool just call me a chicken head??? Oh, I was so going to have his job.

“This is ridiculous,” I said, pulling out my phone. I called J. Love, and it went straight to his voice mail. I hung up and scrolled through until I found his assistant's number.

“Hey, Kimmie, this is Maya Morgan,” I said when she answered. I could hear lots of noise and music, which meant she was inside the club. “I'm at the front door. Can you come tell them to let me in? The bouncer is saying my name isn't on the VIP list, and I can't get in.”

Kimmie was quiet for a minute. “Hello, Kimmie?”

“Yeah, Maya,” she finally said. “Ummm, your name
isn't
on the list.”

“Excuse me?”

She paused, then continued. “It's not on the list. I'm sorry.”

“Kimmie, what in the world is going on?”

Just then, the crowd screamed as J. Love rolled up in his limo.

“Un-unh, J. Love is here. I'm going to talk to him and find out what is going on.” I hung up before she could say anything else.

Kennedi and Sheridan followed me over to the limo.

I could tell Kennedi and Sheridan were embarrassed. Shoot, so was I. I'd never been more embarrassed in my life.

I pushed my way to the front. Darrell, J. Love's bodyguard, immediately stepped in front of me to stop me.

“Wha . . . ?” I asked, stunned as I flinched at his hand blocking me.

He didn't say anything as he stood staring at me.

“Seriously, Darrell?”

Darrell looked back at J. Love, who nodded, so the burly bodyguard stepped aside and let me pass.

I cut my eyes at him as I walked over to J. “Hey, what's up? You invite me to this party, and my name isn't even on the list to get in.”

J. Love actually turned his nose up at me. “Yo, shawty, if it ain't on the list, it ain't on the list.” He was so cold to me; it was crazy. This couldn't be the same guy who just a few days ago had been vowing to make me his girl.

“Excuse me?” I said in shock. “J, what's going on?”

“Look here, shawty,” he said stepping toward me. So now I was “shawty”???? “You cool and all, and I was looking forward to kickin' it with you, but I don't do backstabbers. And I especially can't stand chicks who try to run game.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked at me, and I couldn't be sure, but it almost looked like I saw hurt on his face.

“I'm talking about the story.”

“What story? I haven't done a story on you. I
wouldn't
do a story on you.”

“Yeah, but you'll sell me out. Just like every other gold-digging chick in my life. How much did they pay you? Did you do it so you could get some shine?”

“J, what are you talking about?”

“He's talking about this,” Darrell said as he handed me a folded-up magazine.

“What is this?” I said, taking it. I opened it to see it was the
National Enquirer
.

“Check out page twenty-three,” J. Love snapped.

He stood there as I read it. Sheridan and Kennedi looked over my shoulder.

“He's a hot R & B singer who's made a name for himself with his tributes to women, but it seems Miami singer J. Love is as fake as a three dollar bill. According to Maya Morgan, the host of the popular gossip show,
Rumor Central
, J. Love is trying desperately to cover up a sexual assault charge he's facing in Seattle, Washington.” I stopped reading. “What? No! I didn't do this!”

“So, they're lying on you?” J. Love asked. “Funny, they got you quoted.” He jabbed at the paper. “They know all about me getting arrested and everything.”

“I didn't do this.” The magazine was literally shaking in my hands. “I swear, J. I didn't do this.”

“Whatever. Usually, I don't play around with tricks who try to play me. You're lucky I'm not the old J. Love”—he leaned in and whispered in my ear—“or that pretty face wouldn't be so pretty anymore.” He straightened up, brushed his jacket down. “But I got an image to uphold, so I'm gonna let you slide. This time. But if you know what's good for you, you will make sure you don't come anywhere near me.”

“Are you serious, J?” I wanted to cry. I couldn't believe this.

“Do I look serious, Maya?”

“But I didn't do anything.”

He gave me a look that showed he obviously didn't believe me as he walked off.

“Maya, what's going on?” Sheridan asked.

“Yeah, what is that?” Kennedi pointed to the balled-up magazine in my hand.

“I don't know. It's an article in the
National Enquirer,
and it quotes me, saying J is trying to cover up a sexual assault charge. And that he got arrested.”

“I didn't know he got arrested,” Sheridan said.

I looked uneasily at Kennedi. Sheridan would have a stroke if she knew I had told Kennedi about this and not her, and right now, I couldn't deal with that. Kennedi told me with her eyes though that she hadn't said a word to anyone.

“Nobody knew but him and me. And whoever he told,” I said. “His attorney kept it out of the news.” I ran my hands through my hair. I needed to figure out what in the world was going on.

“Well, it's obviously in the news now,” Sheridan said.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” this girl standing off to the side said.

“Would you get out of our conversation?” Kennedi snapped at her.

The girl rolled her eyes. “I don't blame him. I wouldn't invite you in either.”

Suddenly, someone called out, “Maya!” All three of us turned toward the front door of the club to see the two girls Kennedi and Sheridan had gotten into it with earlier. “Yeah, we're about to go in! Why don't you guys give us your phone number so we can text you and let you know how the party is.” They cracked up laughing as the bouncer let them inside.

I
had tossed and turned all night long. Kennedi, who had been sleeping next to me, finally sat up.

“What is wrong with you?” she said. She glanced over at the clock. “It's four in the morning!”

I threw back the covers and got up and began pacing. “It's this party. I can't get over what happened.”

“Really? Yes, it was embarrassing as all get-out. But it's over. Go to bed.” Kennedi turned on her side and pulled the covers over her.

“No,” I said, flipping on the light next to my bed. “It's not just the not being able to get into the party. I don't want J. Love thinking I told his business.”

“That's what you do,” Kennedi said from beneath the covers. “You tell people's business. Why are you trippin' about it now?”

“But that's just it, I didn't tell the
Enquirer
anything. That doesn't make sense. If anything, I would have run the story myself, but I was really feeling J. Love. I would've never done anything like this! Are you sure you didn't say anything to anyone?”

She turned over and looked at me. “Again, I swear on my mama, my daddy, and everything I love, I didn't tell a soul. You know me. I wouldn't do that to you.”

I sighed heavily. I knew she wouldn't. Kennedi was ride-or-die. “I know. I just need to figure out how I got caught up in this mess.” I know Kennedi was tired of hearing that. I'd said it all the way home and until she fell asleep on me last night. But this had me devastated.

Kennedi let out a long sigh, then sat up. It was obvious I wasn't going to let her sleep, so I guess she decided to humor me.

“Well, the
Enquirer
said they got it from you,” she said.

“Well, they didn't.”

“Then I guess you need to find out why they're saying that.”

“That's exactly what I'm going to do.”

She patted my hand. “Maya, I believe you didn't do it, but you definitely need to find out who did.” She yawned, then stretched. “But guess what? You can't do it at four in the morning, so why don't you go to bed? Figure it out tomorrow.” She fell back, pulling the covers back over her head.

 

It was barely 8 a.m., but I was on my way to the station. I knew Tamara would be there because she had a 9 a.m. meeting that she'd been complaining about all week. I'd left Kennedi asleep. I'd tried to wake her up and ask her if she wanted to come with me, and she'd all but cursed me out.

I swung into the station's parking lot. I needed to catch Tamara before she headed to her meeting. I got her just as she was gathering up her stuff on her desk.

“Hey, Tamara, can I talk to you real quick?”

“What are you doing here on a Saturday?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Well, can't it wait? I'm running late for my meeting. Can't believe they are actually meeting on a freaking Saturday,” she mumbled as she picked up her organizer and moved from behind her desk.

“Please, Tamara. This is important.”

The look on my face must've told her how serious this was for me, because she stopped and said, “Hey, what's going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?” She put her stuff down and sat in the chair in front of her desk.

I sat down in the chair next to her and quickly recapped what had happened at the party last night.

“So all of this is because you didn't get into J. Love's party?”

“No, it's not that at all. It's because the
Enquirer
said I gave them this story, and I didn't have anything to do with it.”

“Well, why does J. Love think you do?”

I pulled out the magazine and handed it to Tamara. It was already opened to page twenty-three. Tamara read the story, then looked up at me. “If you had this kind of information, why would you give it to them? Why wouldn't you air it on
Rumor Central
?”

“Exactly,” I said. “That's what I was trying to tell him. If I were going to release this information, it wouldn't be through the
National Enquirer.
I wouldn't give this type of story to someone else.”

“So why does he think you're behind it?”

I jabbed the paper. “You see my name? They're directly quoting me.”

“And you didn't talk to anyone from the
Enquirer
?”

“No,” I protested. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. “I was hoping you could call and see where they really got this information from.”

She nodded. “Well, I do have a contact over there. Hold on.” She picked up the phone and punched some numbers in. After a brief hesitation, she said, “Hey, Michelle. It's Tamara Collins over at WSVV. How are you? . . . Yeah, me too. Well look, I won't hold you long. Just trying to get some info on a story you guys ran on that singer, J. Love. It's actually being attributed to one of my employees.” Tamara paused, looked in my direction. “Yeah, her.”

“Put her on speakerphone,” I whispered. I needed to know what was going on before I went crazy.

Tamara looked unsure for a minute, then put the handset down and pressed the button to put it on speakerphone.

Michelle was midsentence. “. . . So, we actually all kinda wondered why she was giving the story to us instead of airing it there. But we figured it was personal, since rumor had it she was dating him. Why, what's up?”

“Maya was directly quoted, but she denies ever talking with anyone there.”

“Of course she'd say that.” Michelle laughed. “She doesn't want you mad that she gave the story to us.”

I jumped up. “I didn't—”

Tamara quickly shushed me, and I sat back down, fuming.

“No, Michelle. I know Maya. She is adamant that she never talked with anyone over there. That she never told anyone this story, period,” Tamara said.

I heard a bunch of shuffling, like Michelle was looking through some papers. “Hold on. I'm looking at the notes here.... Yep. It says all communication was done via email.”

“I didn't email anyone,” I whispered.

“Shhh,” Tamara said, putting her finger to her lips.

“Well, what email address is it showing that the information came from?”

“Hey, this is all off the record, right?” Michelle asked.

“Yeah, girl. You know I'm not going to get you in any trouble.”

“GossipGirl2013.” Michelle said. “That's where everything came from.”

I fell back in my seat, stunned. That was my email address.

“Hey, look, Tamara, I hope she's not trying to get a retraction or anything, because everything on our end looks legit.”

“Nah, we were just wondering,” Tamara said.

“Do you want me to have the reporter who did the story call her?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, can you have him call her? Because this is a little scary to her,” Tamara said, then rambled off my cell phone number.

“All right, will do.”

Tamara ended the call and looked at me.

“That's my email address, but I didn't send it,” I mumbled.

“So if you didn't send it, who did?”

“That's what I would like to know.”

“Does anyone have access to your email?”

I thought about Jayla, but I hadn't given her my email address, let alone the password to that. She only had my social media information. Besides, why would she try to set me up? Maybe Bryce was behind all of this. It didn't seem like something he would do, but since he'd found out about J. Love and me, maybe he was trying to get revenge. Even still, how would he have known about the arrest?

“I don't know who did it.” I stood. I was getting angry all over again. “But I tell you what, I'm not resting until I get to the bottom of this.”

Tamara stood, too, and gathered her stuff up again.“Okay. Let me know what you find out. I need to get to the studio.”

I followed Tamara out, almost in a daze. No way would J. Love ever trust me again, even if I proved it hadn't been me, which I had no idea how I could do. That relationship was as good as over, I told myself. But this was bigger than J. Love. Someone was playing with my life now, and I wouldn't rest until I found out who it was.