ROMANCING THE BULLDOG (17 page)

me. Or maybe I missed that, too.”

Jason stared deep into her eyes. “I love you, Liz,” he said unflinchingly. His

pronouncement stopped her cold, and her resolve began to weaken. “I love you more than I’ve

ever loved anyone before. Don’t you understand that? Haven’t you figured that much out

yet?”

“But it’s going too fast! How can it be love this fast, Jason? I’ve made too many

mistakes in the past, I can’t live through another mistake.”

Jason pulled her into his arms. “It’s not a mistake, baby. I promise you it’s not. You

have got to trust me.” He pulled back from her slightly, to look into her tear-filled eyes. “Can

you do that for me, Liz? Can you trust me?”

Liz didn’t know if she could or couldn’t, but the sincerity in his eyes made her unable to

resist him. And she nodded. That was all she did. But for Jason that was all it took.

He took her once again into his arms and then kissed her, deeply and passionately on the

lips. By the time he had carried her into her bedroom, and they both had undressed and he

was making love to her gently at first, and then pounding her with a need that bordered on

unrelenting, tears were in his own eyes. “Oh, baby,” he kept saying, “I love you. I love you so

much!”

And Liz wanted to return the declaration, she wanted to with all she had within her, but

that past love that turned to hate, that constant old pain that would not let her go, stifled her.

And she smothered her words in the shoulder of his protective arms.

ELEVEN

“Liz Morgan,” Liz said as she snatched her ringing telephone off of her desk just as she

had entered her office.

“Why haven’t you returned my calls, Liz?” Malcolm barked out on the other end.

Liz put her briefcase and shoulder bag on her desk. “I’m at work, Mal. What is it?”

“As if you don’t know. Where’s lover boy? Is he there with you now?”

“What do you want, Mal?”

“Father is pissed.”

Liz would have smiled if it wasn’t so pathetic. “And what else is new?”

“You’re skating down a black hole, girl. How can you let that man use you like this?”

Liz frowned. “Use me?”

“Yeah, use you. To get more black votes. ‘Look at me,’ is what he’s saying. ‘I got me a

bonafide black girlfriend. Y’all ignorant negras vote for me now, you hear?’ Then he’s going

to dump you like a bad habit.”

Liz put her face in her hand. Leave it to her family to find it unthinkable that a man could

actually love her. “Is that all you wanted, Malcolm?”

“You need to check yourself.”

“No, you need to check
your
self. What I do in my private life is my business. If I

wanted Jason and anybody else to use me, that’s my business, too. And you can run and tell

that to Father while you’re at it, because I don’t care anymore.” Liz said this and hung up the

phone. Then she exhaled.

“What’s the matter with you?” Shameika asked. Liz didn’t even realize she had entered

her office.

“Do you ever knock?” she asked her.

“Not really, no.”

Liz smiled. Shameika was the most honest person she knew. “Whatever, girl. What can

I do you for?”

“I didn’t know you were moving.”

Liz looked at her. “Moving?”

“Yeah. They got the big truck out there and everything.”

Liz frowned. “Out where?”

“Outside your apartment. Out
there
.”

Liz knew this had to be some mistake. She hurried from her desk and looked out of the

window. A mid-sized moving truck was parked in front of her apartment, with men walking

out of her apartment with her furniture.

“What in the world,” she said but didn’t wait for an answer. She hurried past Shameika,

ran out of the Center, and was hurrying up the stairs that led to her apartment. “Who’s in

charge?” she asked one of the movers, and he motioned toward her living room. Liz ran in

that direction.

The boss was a short, stout man who was, with another man, wrapping her sofa in plastic.

“Excuse me, but who are you and what are you doing?”

“Tighten it, Poke,” the man said to his assistant. Then he stood erect and looked at Liz.

“Are you Miss Morgan?”

“I am.”

“I have orders to pack you up and move you out, and that’s what I’m doing. If you have

any questions you’re to contact,” the man had to pull out a flip pad and flip it open.

“Bulldog,” he said.

Liz could hardly believe it. She was going to contact Bulldog, all right. “And this Bulldog

gave you a key to my home?” she asked as she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Jason’s

number.

“He gave somebody the key. They gave it to me.”

Liz shook her head. The voice mail to Jason’s cell phone clicked on. She therefore dialed

his office number. His secretary picked up. He’s in a meeting, she said.

“Well I need him out of that meeting, and I mean now.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

Liz exhaled. “Liz Morgan,” she said.

“Oh, Miss Morgan,” the secretary said. “One moment, please.”

Liz wanted to smile. Maybe being Jason’s announced girlfriend had its’ privileges. But

instead of Jason coming on the line, Stephen Armitage did. “Yes, may I help you?” he said as

obnoxiously as the first time she had spoken to him.

“I need to speak with Jason.”

“He’s in a meeting.”

“Yes, I know that. But I need to speak with him.”

“I’ll let him know that you phoned.”

“You don’t understand. I need to speak with him now.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Stephen said with bite. “He’s in a very important meeting

and you’ll just have to wait until it’s over.” Then he added. “The world doesn’t revolve

around you, at least not this world.”

Liz flipped shut her cell. The nerve of him. Then she looked at the movers. “You have

the key?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, handing it to her.

“Will you please step out of my apartment, and stay out, until I’ve had a chance to clear

this up?”

“The truck is already half loaded.”

“I know that. And I want it unloaded. But not until after I’ve had a chance to clear this

up. Take a break, you and your men.
Bulldog
will pay for it.”

The man didn’t like it, not one bit, but he understood he had no choice. He left. And Liz

nearly screamed.

***

was expecting some ghetto fabulous trollop with weave and freakishly long fingernails who

looked every bit the welfare queen Stephen said she was, but instead she gets some black

beauty queen with bouncy short hair, silky smooth dark skin, big, bright eyes, and the kind of

body a man like Jason probably craved. Seeing the competition, then, made DeeDee

immediately defensive.

“He’s in a meeting,” she said to Liz as Liz stood beside the reception desk outside the

mayor’s office at City Hall. DeeDee had been summoned when Liz told the receptionist her

name.

“Could you please tell him it’s very important that I speak with him?”

“I said he was in a meeting,” DeeDee reminded her, “and he can’t be disturbed.”

Liz could see that the woman was unrepentant and no manner of urgency was going to get

her to so much as ask Jason to step out of his meeting for even a quick minute. But Liz also

knew she had to see him.

“I’ll wait,” she said and took a seat. DeeDee didn’t like that either, but she had no choice

in the matter. She turned and walked away, her long, blonde hair bouncing against her back.

Liz’s wait turned out to be nearly an hour long. And even then it was by chance that she

saw Jason. He appeared in the hall outside of the reception area, walking and talking with a

big, husky man with a thick, almost comically long mustache.

“Jason!” Liz yelled as he was about to walk past. He backed back on hearing his name

and she jumped up and hurried toward him. The receptionist looked at her and shook her

head.

“Liz?” he said cheerfully. “What are you doing here?” He kissed her on the mouth before

she could say anything at all.

“Can we talk?” she asked him in a lowered tone.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Jason said. Then he turned her toward his companion. “Liz, say

hello to one of my strongest supporters, Grady Hayward. Grady, this is Elizabeth Morgan, my

lady.”

Liz was about to enthusiastically shake the man’s hand, until she heard his name. “Grady

Hayward?” she asked, shaking his hand as reluctantly as he was shaking hers.

“That’s right,” Jason said. “He’s among my most reliable supporters.”

“Aren’t you the head of CHS?” The only reason Liz knew of the group at all was because

of their staunch opposition to the Meyers Center receiving a dime of the city’s block grant

funding. The Meyers Center, according to CHS, is a haven for gang members to hang out and

plot their crimes, which, Liz said when she heard about it, was ridiculous.

“I’m the president of the Conservative Heritage Society, yes, that’s correct,” Grady said as

if he was admonishing her.

“You know Grady, Liz?” Jason asked her.

“I know of him. I know his organization has done everything in its power to pull every

public funding source from under us.”

Grady frowned. “From under you? Who are you, other than the daughter of a gangster,

excuse me, nightclub owner?”

“I’m the youth director over at the Meyers Center and I just think it’s a shame what your

organization is doing to our youth in this city, especially our inner city youth.”

“We aren’t doing a thing to them,” Grady shot back. “I think you need to get your facts

straight--”

“Listen, Grady,” Jason said, extending his hand, “I’ll talk with you later.”

Grady looked at Liz as if he wasn’t anywhere near ready to end the conversation, but

Jason had effectively left him no option. He shook Jason’s hand. “Remember what we

discussed,” he reminded him, looked once more at Liz, and then left. Jason exhaled.

“That was close,” he said as he placed his hand on the small of Liz’s back and motioned

her toward his office.

“What was close?”

“He’s one of my biggest contributors, Elizabeth.”

“So?”

Jason walked her into his office and closed the door. “So,” he said, “you don’t upset your

donors.”

“But he’s nothing but a racist,” Liz said with disdain in her voice. “How could you accept

a penny from him?”

“What brings you all the way to our city hall?” Jason asked her, changing the subject.

Liz was at first taken aback by his decision not to engage her regarding Grady Hayward. It

made her look at him oddly, and wonder if she knew him at all.

“He’s a racist, Jason,” she continued, refusing to leave it alone.

“Why is he a racist? Because he doesn’t like the Meyers Center?”

“How can you accept money from an organization like CHS?”

Jason exhaled. “What’s up?” he asked, refusing to engage her.

He disappointed her, but she moved on, anyway. She had her own problems. “Did you

hire people to move my furniture out of my apartment?”

“Oh, that,” Jason said as if the fact that movers were at her home was no big deal. “Yes, I

handled it.”

“But you didn’t tell me anything about it.”

“Didn’t I? You’re right. I had gotten so busy, I guess I forgot.”

“You forgot? How could you forget? I just gave you a key to my apartment last night.

That means you contacted those movers this morning.”

“Yesterday, actually. That’s why I asked for the key. Honestly, I thought I had

mentioned it. Are you sure I didn’t?”

“Of course I’m sure, Jason! Somebody tells me they want to move all of my furniture out

of my house, it’s not something I’d forget. Especially since I would have told them no way.”

“Well that is a problem because you’ve got to move.”

Liz frowned. “And why do I have to move?”

“Because no woman of mine is living in an apartment surrounded by office buildings that’s

practically deserted at night. That’s why.”

“So you just decide to move me out? Without discussing this with me?”

“Yes, that was my mistake. I should have mentioned it.”

“Not just mention it, Jason. You should have discussed it with me. It’s not for you to

decide.”

“Okay, I should have discussed it with you. I just thought that you’d understand.”

“Understand what?”

Jason didn’t want to go there. “I have another meeting in less than ten minutes, Liz. Why

don’t we discuss this tonight?”

“We will discuss it right now. What is it you expect me to understand?”

“That I’m a politician. That’s what.”

“And?”

“And no woman of mine can live in a place like your apartment. My political enemies

would have a field day with that.”

“Oh, I see. So where I live is an embarrassment to you. Is that what you’re saying?”

“It’s not an embarrassment, Liz. I just don’t want my opponent to make an issue out of