ROMANCING THE BULLDOG (16 page)

Hamp didn’t go after him for sleeping with her, but, instead, went after her, calling her a tramp

and a slut and everything but the innocent she actually was. Jason wanted to knock him out

when he called Liz those names, and would have if that a-hole son of his wouldn’t have

intervened. Later, when they both had calmed down, Jason told Hamp that Liz had actually

been a virgin. He was astounded when Hamp refused to believe him. “What black magic that

daughter of mine has worked on you?” he wanted to know. Then laughed as if Jason was

trying to take him for a fool. For a man to have such a low opinion of his own daughter, Jason

could only imagine what he would do to her once he found out that she was sleeping with the

man he wanted to unseat.

When he realized that the back of the apartment that had been bustling with activity was

now quiet, he got up and went to see what Liz was up to. When he saw her, lying across her

bed in her bathrobe, her hands on the side of her face like an angel, his breath caught. And he

knew it. Knew it like he knew his name. He loved her. He realized it just that quickly. He

loved this woman. And he was going to do everything in his power, everything, to make her

love him back. Hamp and his dirty tricks be damned, he thought. Nobody, and no political

office in this land, would keep him from loving his precious Elizabeth.

TEN

Liz was in the rec room playing a quick game of ping pong with Georgie when Shameika

hurried in and changed the television station from ESPN to the local twelve o’clock news. If it

had been later in the day, when most of the kids were out of school and the Center was near-

capacity, Shameika would have been booed out of the room. “
Nobody wants to watch no

news
!” they would have decried. But no-one was present except Liz, Georgie, and a few

more of the older kids or those who had already dropped out, and her move, therefore, was

roundly ignored.

Even though the reporter announced that they were awaiting the mayor’s press

conference, Liz continued to play ping pong. Although her relationship with Jason was moving

right along, it wasn’t to a point where they were running around bragging about it. In fact, Liz

liked the fact that they were taking their time.

Especially after last night. She had fallen asleep while Jason was on the telephone, and

didn’t know that he removed her robe and put her under covers, and had showered and gotten

in bed with her, until nearly four this morning when she woke up to find herself wrapped in his

arms. She felt so protected, so loved at that moment that tears stained her eyes. He was

turning out to be such a good guy, such a caring man, that it stunned her. His actions

continually went against type. Not that she was a judgmental person, but the fact that he had

been her father’s attorney, the fact that he had been nicknamed bulldog as if he humped every

one he saw and had no self control, the fact that he was a republican, all flied in the face of the

man he actually was. Around her he was kind and considerate and made her the focal point of

his existence. Sure, he was a handful around her, too, with his bombastic attitude, but she

could live with bombast if it meant she would be treated right.

And that was the rub for Liz. Would he, in the long run, treat her right? Her ex-husband

was kind and caring, too, until time moved on. Then he became a control freak who had to

know her every move, who lied to her constantly about his various affairs, who treated her as

if she was his property rather than his wife. The scary part about Jason, for Liz, was the fact

that she could see that kind of behavior in him already. He was so possessive, so determined

to make her his, that she wondered if he would ever respect her as her own person, which was

an absolute requirement for her going forward. No-more bending to anybody else’s will. He

either respected her for who she was, or left her alone.

That was why, when she woke to find him in her bed, staring at her, she came clean with

him. Told him all about her past life, including her ex-husband.

“Drugs?” he asked, lying beside her, still holding her.

“Crack,” Liz said. “He had apparently been selling it for years. Of course, he went off to

work every day, in real estate, I thought. But his real estate office, his entire business, was just

a front for his real enterprise.”

“Drug dealing?”

“Right,” Liz said. “It broke my heart. I left him as soon as I found out about it.” Then

she looked at him. “But that didn’t stop the cops from arresting me, anyway.”

Jason’s heart dropped. “You were arrested?”

“Yup. They wanted to see if they could get me to turn state’s evidence, to snitch on

Scotty, but I didn’t know anything about it, I mean nothing. I was devastated when I found

out what he was up to. And he had the nerve to be angry when I left his butt. He said I was

being disloyal. Me, disloyal. Not him. Me. When I didn’t snitch to the cops about anything,

he said I got my loyalty card back.” She shook her head. “It was crazy. But eventually those

cops realized I wasn’t lying and let me go. What’s amazing,” she added, “was that I was the

one who had called the cops on Scotty’s butt to begin with. But since I called anonymously at

some phone booth, those cops acted like it never happened. But they knew it was me.”

Jason held her tighter. “Sorry you had to go through all of that.” His only regret was that

he wasn’t there to protect her. After a while, he looked at her. “Why are you telling me this

now, Liz?” he asked her.

Liz hesitated. “I believe everybody should have the full range of flavors whenever they

taste the Kool-aid.”

Jason thought about this, and then laughed. Liz was at peace when he laughed.

Now, she was in the rec room at the Meyers Center still remembering how he laughed,

when she heard him say her name.

Liz, Georgie, and everybody in the room looked up at the television. The scene was the

press room at City Hall, and Jason was facing the cameras and a room full of reporters, when

one asked: “Is it true about Elizabeth Morgan?”

Jason, who looked calm as a cucumber, Liz thought, didn’t hesitate. “What about Miss

Morgan?”

“There are rumors that you had dinner with her last night.”

Jason smiled, although Liz could tell he would have rather not deal with the question. “We

had dinner, yes, at Mama’s Finger Lickin’ Restaurant.”

Liz smiled. Mama, whomever she was, would probably love the plug, she thought.

Shameika, however, was astounded. “You took him to Finger Lickin’?” she asked.

Liz looked at her. “I didn’t take him anywhere,” she replied, but Shameika shushed her, so

that she could hear the mayor’s answer.

“So what’s the situation, Mayor? Is Elizabeth Morgan, daughter of famed nightclub owner

Hamp Morgan, your new girlfriend?”

Liz didn’t like the sound of that. As if he she was one in a series, like his new coat, his

latest suit, to be exchanged for an even newer one at the next press conference.

Jason, however, was clear. “Yes,” he said and the press room erupted with even more

questions. The questions from the reporters would not let up. “Does Hamp Morgan know? I

thought you and Hamp Morgan were no longer on speaking terms? Will dating a black woman

hurt you with your conservative base? Will dating a black woman hurt you with the black

community?”

Liz didn’t know what to do. Jason had let the genie out of the bottle and now it felt as

though all hell had permission to break loose. She remembered the other night, when her

father spoke about Jason as if he hated the man. What in the world, she thought, this bit of

news was going to do to his already bad temper?

***

problem for his son Malcolm. His father was nearly catatonic, sitting behind his desk, staring

at the television as if Jason Rascone had just announced with all sincerity that the Martians had

landed downtown. Then he looked at his son. “Did he just say what I thought he just said?”

Malcolm nodded, confounded too.

“Did that fool just say that Elizabeth, that my daughter,
my
daughter, was his girlfriend?”

“That’s what the man said.”

Hamp sat back in his chair. “I don’t fucking believe this!” Then he looked once again at

his son, who, in truth, was the only consistent ally he had. “What is he trying to pull? What

kind of dumb-ass publicity stunt is this? It’s as if he knows.”

Malcolm looked at his father. “Knows? You mean about your run?”

“Of course that’s what I mean! What the hell else was I gonna mean, Malcolm, work with

me, son! Bulldog Rascone ain’t never been nobody’s fool. If he’s willing to publicly claim

something that’s mine, he’s claiming it for a reason.”

“But what reason?” Malcolm asked, still confused.

“To make it appear to the public that I can’t be worth a damn if my own daughter’s voting

for the other guy, that’s what reason!”

“But Jace wouldn’t use Liz like that.”

Hamp looked at his son with a look of grave disappointment. “Don’t you ever be that

naïve. Bulldog Rascone would sell his mama to the Taliban if it’ll get him what he wants. And

you think he just loves your sister so much that he means nothing political by this stunt of his?

Get real, boy. He’s playing her like Jimi Hendrix played his guitar, and you’d better know it.

That boy is out for blood. Mine. And he’s out for it in whatever container he can get it in!”

***

anger. DeeDee Ramstead burst into Stephen Armitage’s office just as he was getting off of the

phone with Grady Hayward, the president of the Conservative Heritage Society, a man whose

own eruption could rival Hamp’s.

“I know already, Dee,” Stephen said as she slammed his door and hurried to his desk.

“‘Oh, yes, he says. She’s my girlfriend.’ Like it’s nothing at all. Hamilton Morgan’s

daughter, Stephen!”

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that? You should have heard Grady Hayward!”

“He called already?”

“Did he. He is beside himself with anger.”

“What is he so upset about? He doesn’t even know Hamp Morgan plans to run against

Jason yet.”

“Oh, come off it, Dee. He couldn’t care less about which Democrat is running against

Jace. What he cares about is the ethnic origin of the woman sleeping in Jace’s bed.”

“He’s not pulling support. Please don’t tell me he’s pulling support?”

“Not yet. But he’s serving notice to Jace that he will unless he, in his words, get his house

in order.”

DeeDee sat down in the chair in front of Stephen’s desk. She was devastated, and

Stephen knew it. On a normal day he would relish in it, he really couldn’t stand her. But this

was no normal day. Jason’s little antics with that African queen could cause them the election,

not to mention any shot they did have of one day sitting in the governor’s mansion. And that,

for Stephen, for DeeDee, who also felt betrayed, was reckless to a point of suicidal.

***

That night, when Jason came over, Liz let him in the front door without saying a word, and

then went back to the kitchen to continue preparing dinner. Jason lumbered along, until he

made his way into the entranceway of the kitchen. He leaned against the wall of the arch,

folded his arms, and observed her perfect, lithe body in a very sheer, sleeveless dress.

“Mad at me?” he asked her.

Liz hesitated but continued to season her steaks. “Why would I be angry with you?”

“Because I announced to the world our relationship.”

Liz looked at him. “You mean the fact that I’m your girlfriend? A fact you somehow

neglected to mention to me? Why in the world would you think that would upset me?”

Jason smiled at her deadpan humor. “It wasn’t planned, Liz. It just came out. They

asked and I responded truthfully.”

“But you didn’t have to say I was your girlfriend. You could have said I was your friend,

that would have been the truth, too.”

“What difference does it make? Friend, girlfriend, what’s the big deal?”

“That’s the big deal. The fact that you don’t know the difference. Or don’t want to

know.”

Liz put the steaks, two of them, into her preheated oven, sat the timer, and removed her

gloves. She brushed Jason as she moved past him, but he caught her by the arm and pulled

her back.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to let the world know how I felt about you.”

“Oh, yeah? And how’s that, Jason? I mean, you haven’t told me how you feel about