ROMANCING THE BULLDOG (22 page)

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Authors: Mallory Monroe

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“Because it’ll have a bearing on my answers,” DeeDee said and Hamp smiled. He liked

her spunk.

“I didn’t press charges because, if I don’t press charges, I keep the advantage.”

“It allows you to play the victim you mean.”

“It allows me to stay on the high road I mean.”

“So it wasn’t because it would hurt your daughter?”

Hamp glanced at Mal. Apparently Jason had not told his assistant that Liz was no kin to

them. Both father and son wondered why. Jason had to know it would be political

kryptonite for Hamp, and he could take some of Hamp’s thunder by going public with the

news himself. But Rascone was like that. Always unpredictable.

Hamp leaned back in his executive chair. “What do you boys think?” Hamp asked Mal

and Clay. “Think I didn’t press charges because it would offend Liz?”

Mal let out a one-syllable, meant to be sarcastic laugh. “Not hardly,” he said.

Hamp looked at Clay. He was becoming a very good ally, with very good connections.

“What about you, Clayton? What do you think was my motivation? To help my quote,

unquote, ‘daughter’?”

“Your decision probably helped Liz, yes, and that’s a good thing,” Clay said, “but I don’t

think that as your motivation. That was more like a byproduct of your motivation.”

Hamp looked at DeeDee. “Now you understand?”

“Perfectly,” DeeDee said. “Now you understand this. I just received word that my boss,

Mayor Rascone, has asked your daughter to marry him.”

Although Hamp, Mal, and Clay remained calm, all three were stunned witless.

“And she has said yes,” DeeDee said. “How’s that for motivation?”

“He’s going public with the news?” Mal asked her.

“Yes. On Wednesday at his weekly press conference he’ll make the announcement.”

Hamp nodded. “Okay.” Then he looked at DeeDee. “And why did you feel a need to

come all the way to Big D’s to tell me this?”

“Because I think he’s making the biggest mistake of his life.”

“His political life?”

“That too. But I don’t care about that anymore. That’s why I came here. Jason lose this

election and that Liz person will hit the road, I guarantee it. It’s power she’s after. Jason will

be making the biggest mistake of his life if he goes through with this nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” Mal asked, surprised. “Why is it nonsense? Because Liz is black?”

“Because Liz is the absolute wrong female for a man like Jason Rascone.”

“And I suppose you’re just right for him,” Mal continued. Then he smiled. “Or is it just

white
for him?”

DeeDee rolled her eyes at Mal and looked back at Hamp. “I’ve given you the

information,” she said, collecting her purse that she had sat on his desk. “Use it as you will.

Do everything in your power to stop it, and not just for your daughter’s sake, but for your

election’s sake. Because remember, it’s one thing for Mayor Rascone to parade a girlfriend

around. It’s another thing altogether for him to parade his fiancée around. She becomes

legitimate then. More black votes may come his way then.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Clay said. “African-Americans aren’t that shallow to vote for a right-

wing Republican like Mayor Rascone just because he has a black woman on his arms.”

DeeDee looked at Clay as if he had no clue about local politics. “I doubt seriously,”

DeeDee said, “if Hamp shares your opinion.” Then she left.

“But it’s true,” Clay said after she left. “Blacks voters aren’t going to vote for a

Republican just because he has a black girlfriend.”

“No, I agree with you, Clayton,” Hamp said. “But he’s talking about marrying her, if that

chick is to be believed. And I think she is, because she’s in love with Rascone herself. That’s

why she came here. She don’t give a damn if he wins or loses. Just so long he win or lose

with her on his arm, which ain’t gonna happen. Not as long as Liz hangs around.”

Clay smiled. “You make it sound as if he’s in love with Liz.”

Hamp looked at Clay. “Of course he’s in love with her, what’s wrong with you? That

man is head-over-heels.”

“But . . .,” Clay started, by now puzzled. “You said he was using her.”

Hamp looked at Mal, both smiling. “This guy,” he said, shaking his head. “Yes, I said

that, Clayton.” Then he added: “It’s politics, okay?”

Hamp, however, was already thinking ahead. “But now your boy Jason is talking about

elevating Liz from girlfriend to soon-to-be-wifey, and doing so on television. That changes

everything.”

Clay frowned. “How?”

“Because,” Mal said irritably, “that shoots our theory straight to hell. We say he’s just

using her and will dump her as soon as he’s reelected. He’s coming back to say if I’m using

her, then why have I asked her to be my wife? And knowing Rascone, he’ll make sure the

wedding day is
before
election day.”

“Well before it,” Hamp added.

“But that still won’t win him any more black votes than he would ordinarily get.”

“Oh, my friend,” Hamp said, “it most certainly will. He’ll be one of us now, you see.

With a black woman in the family, and soon-to-be black children. It’ll win him quite a few

more votes.”

Clay still shook his head. “I don’t believe the average African-American voter is that easily

bought.”

“Every voter is that easily bought, forget the race! You dangle the right incentive and

everybody’s up for grabs.”

“But what about the blacks who hate the fact that a good looking sister like Liz would fall

for some white guy? They aren’t going to vote for him.”

“But you’re missing the point, Clay,” Mal said. “Those voters wouldn’t have voted for

Rascone no matter what he did anyway. And, besides, he doesn’t need their votes. All he

need to do is to peel off just enough black voters and liberal white voters away from Hamp and

he’ll win the election. Point blank. And don’t you think Rascone doesn’t know that. That’s

what this is all about.”

Clay exhaled and looked at Hamp. Hamp stood up and walked to the window behind his

desk. Looked out as the crowd was slowly trickling into his club. “So what do we do?”

“We blow it up,” Mal said.

“Blow it up?” Clay asked. “With what?”

Hamp turned around. “With what we like to call, my friend, the trump card. The nuclear

option. The idea that we’re willing to go, not where no man has gone before, none of that
Star

Trek
shit, but we’re willing to go the last place Jason and Liz wants us to go.”

“Let me guess,” Clay said. “It has something to do with low blows, bottom of the decks,

and sewage?”

Mal laughed. “Oh, you’re learning boy,” he said. Then added: “I’m gonna love this.”

“Yeah,” Hamp said with a smile of his own. “So am I.”

SEVENTEEN

Although it was nearly three hours before the press conference was scheduled, Liz was already

dressed and looking at herself in the bedroom mirror one last time. She was still living in

Jason’s penthouse apartment at the Birmingham and was so nervous she could hardly see

straight. Shameika, who was by her side, smiled.

“Just relax, child, okay,” she said. “It’ll be fine.”

“But I don’t see why I have to be there,” Liz said, who was hoping to stay behind the

scenes. “I didn’t have to be there when he announced I was his girlfriend.”

“If you don’t know the difference between girlfriend and fiancée then yeah, you need to

stay put. Girl, you about to be the mayor’s wife. He’s even set the date. He’s serious and he

aims to let this city know he’s serious. Besides, when he announced you as his girlfriend he

didn’t have an opponent then.”

Liz looked at Shameika. “What is that supposed to mean, Meek? You make it sound like

this is some kind of publicity stunt.”

“How can it not be with a politician involved, girl? Of course it’s a publicity stunt! But

it’s the truth. Jason loves you and wants to marry you and it’s a publicity stunt to gin up him

some black votes too. You’re what they call an all-in-one proposition.”

If Shameika thought she was alleviating Liz’s fears, she was mistaken. Liz was sure that

Jason loved her. She, in fact, had never been more sure in her life. But there was also the

baggage of her past, when she was equally convinced with her ex, and he screwed her every

way but good. Now she had thrown down the gauntlet with Jason, and just the idea of it, of

giving her love completely to someone else again, was terrifying to her.

Knocks on the front door caused her to jump. Shameika laughed. “You have got to get a

grip, girl, or you’re gonna be out there embarrassing the man.”

Liz had to smile herself. “I know,” she said as she and Shameika headed for the front of

the apartment. “Jason said the same thing. Only he said it with more compassion than you

did.”

Shameika laughed. “You don’t like me because I’m compassionate. You like me because

I tell your butt the truth.”

Which was true, Liz thought as she opened the front door and saw Jason standing there.

As soon as Jason saw her, however, his breath caught.

“Wow,” he said.

“Why didn’t you use your key?” Liz asked. “This is still your apartment, you know.”

“Not really,” Jason said, walking in. “Hey there, Meek.”

“What’s up?”

“What do you mean not really?” Liz wanted to know. “Just because I’m staying here

doesn’t mean it’s no longer yours.”

“I changed it.”

Liz frowned. “You changed what?”

“The deed. Before you moved in here. It’s in your name and your name only. It’s

yours.”

Shameika shook her head as she headed for the kitchen. “Some girls have all the luck. I’ll

be happy to get a Big Mac meal out of my man. This sister gets a penthouse apartment out of

hers!”

Although Liz laughed, Jason was too busy looking down the length of Liz to hear

Shameika’s comment. “You look beautiful,” he finally said. “You take my breath away.”

Liz smiled. Put her arms around his neck. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” When he

placed his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her, she suddenly felt him swell

larger and larger. She pulled back.

“Jason, we can’t,” she said but she said it too late. He had already grabbed her by the

hand and was all but pulling her into the bedroom.

“But I just got dressed!” she said.

“I’ll dress you back,” he said without breaking his stride.

“But what about the press conference!”

“We’ve got hours still,” he reminded her, pulled her into the bedroom, and slammed the

door.

Shameika didn’t hear the slam. She was too busy searching the refrig for something to eat

that didn’t look like alfalfa sprouts or other roughage that seemed to dominate Liz’s food

preference. Where was the chicken, the French fries, the leftover Chinese food, Shameika

wanted to know. But by the time she had found something edible, a hunk of cheese, and had

cut off a slice and headed back into the living room, she heard the sounds.

First it was of a slow bed rock, which at first startled her since she knew Liz was already

dressed and ready to go. But when the rock began to intensify and became a lot of knocking

and squeaking, Shameika had to smile. Banging was more the word, she thought to herself,

and excused herself back into the kitchen.

She wasn’t in there ten minutes, however, before knocks once again were heard on the

front door. First she sat there, wondering how could anyone have gotten all the way up to the

penthouse without the downstairs desk first requesting permission to let them up. Jason was

able to do it, of course, because it was his place, or at least as far as the downstairs staff was

concerned. But who else would have that liberty? When Shameika went into the living room

and looked through the door’s peephole, seeing that it was that Jaguars hunk Dexter McGhee,

Carl Browning, and Stephen Armitage, she understood who. They were members of Jason’s

staff and was probably given the green light years ago. But there was a problem. The sounds

from the bedroom continued to echo throughout the front of the apartment, including

occasional shouts of elation from Jason. Shameika certainly couldn’t allow anyone in at this

moment in time.

“Yes,” she said with the door shut. “May I help you?”

“We need to see the mayor,” Carl replied.

“I’m sorry but the mayor is rather busy right now,” Shameika replied as Jason again let out

a “oh, baby,” as the banging continued.

“This is Carl Browning, Shameika,” Carl said, recognizing Shameika’s voice, “and this is

urgent.”

“I understand that, but the mayor is indisposed at the moment.”

Stephen Armitage moved in front of the peephole. “You listen here, young lady, and you

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