Page 117 of Pride and Protest
Then she saw him. Walking with such purpose, separating the crowd like the prow of a ship, his sister behind him. He wore slim black chinos that stopped at the ankle with a simple white button-down that defined his broad shoulders and slim hips. His black Chelsea boots matched the belt low on his waist. His raven hair was tied back in a messy bun and shaved close on the sides and back. He looked impossibly chic, like he belonged in a villa in Italy. His face wore a worried expression, and he scanned thecrowd every few seconds. She raised her hands and waved. He caught her gaze and made his way to her. His smile was so bright and boyish that if she wasn’t in love with him already, that smile would have sealed the deal.
“Make sure you get your lanterns,” Dorsey said to Liza’s family. Gigi introduced herself to them and walked them toward the lanterns. Dorsey turned back to Liza. “When I was in the Philippines around Christmastime, San Fernando would host these huge lantern festivals.” He slipped his big, warm hand into hers. It was only the second time they had held hands, and it seemed like the entire city shuttered their cameras at the sight. “I wanted to bring a little of that magic here to say thank you.”
“I should thank you.”
“The board was in love with the proposal and even wanted to hand me my old job back.”
“Dorsey, that’s great!”
“I said no.”
“Wait, what? Why?”
“Meet the new executive director of WCO Foundation.”
“Oh, Dorsey.” Liza’s joy flowed up. “That’s a perfect fit.”
“It is. We’re also looking for a director for a new division we’re spinning up. They would work closely with foreign countries’ ministries of culture to highlight and amplify the needs of the respective communities.”
Liza smiled. “This person would workwiththe community, not speak for them, right?”
His fingers traced the slope of her neck. “Oh, that’s essential.” His voice had gone husky, and Liza shivered under the graze of his fingertips.
“We won’t be plastering our name all over projects well underway in other countries?” Liza loved looking into his eyes andseeing something soft and yielding in them, instead of the unreadable, flinty onyx she had come to associate with him.
“Never,” he said.
“Well, this seems like a great opportunity. Do you know anyone I can speak to about my candidacy?” Liza asked.
“Oh, I heard the interview there is tough. Their executive director for one is a real asshole.”
“Dorsey. You’re not an asshole. Honestly, you’re one of the kindest people I know. The jet, one hundred thousand dollars, no questions asked. You saved my family.”
“That only proves my point, Liza. You have to know that I didn’t do this because I’m a kind person. I did it for you. To be seen by you, valued by you. I’msoin love with you, Liza.”
Liza recognized this jittery, chatty, confessional Dorsey, and she wanted him to stop before he said something he’d regret. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. “I tried to tell you this before, but I did everything wrong. And when you came to the embassy...” Dorsey’s voice thickened. “When you told me you loved me, I thought it was said in the throes of passion and that you’d want to take it back.”
Liza shook her head. Shehadwanted to take it back—not because it was untrue, but because she had been so afraid that he wouldn’t return it to her. Dorsey’s eyes were red-rimmed and wet, but focused solely on her. It was stone-cold fear of LeDeya, Janae, and Bev’s collective fury that kept her from ruining her mascara and crying. Her chin wobbled anyway.
“Do you love me, Liza?” Dorsey searched her eyes. “Or do you still feel the way you did that morning in Alexandria?”
“Oh god, Dorsey!” Liza’s exclamation came out breathless. She fanned her eyes. Where had all the air in her lungs gone?“You had to know that night at the embassy that I loved you back. I was so wrong about you.”
“So was I, which is why I invited you here.”
“What exactly is here?” Liza looked around. “And how did you pull all of this off so fast?” No traffic, so many balloons they could lift the bridge, the same DJ from the first event—the detail was amazing.
“It’s kind of a formal Fuck-It ceremony. And money can move mountains.”
A harried-looking woman in black buzzed around them. “The Bird and the Bee have been located,” she spoke into a walkie-talkie. “Five and a half minutes to sundown. You two should take your places.”
“What places?” Liza asked. Dorsey led Liza toward the middle of the bridge. “Dorsey, what on earth are you planning?” Liza’s eyes widened. The sun split into reddish-pink streaks across the sky that seemed to set the river on fire. It reminded Liza of their first night of drinks at the hotel bar. Someone shoved a mic in Dorsey’s hand, and Liza could see the tremor there.
The last burst of light streaked across the sky, and Dorsey exhaled a slow breath. “Thank you all for coming tonight!” he said to the crowd. “I asked you here to celebrate someone you already know. The only DJ who gives a jam, Liza Bennett!” The crown erupted in cheers. “By now, you should all have your bamboo lantern or your candle on a banana leaf. By lighting them, I invite us to let go of what has been weighing us down, all of our fears. Tonight I want us to light our lanterns to”—his voice shook—“new beginnings.” Dorsey’s eyes met hers. “Liza, I love you. I, Blank Datu-Ramos, love you, Alizé Bennett!” The crowd roared.
Liza grabbed the mic. “Just Liza is fine,” she told the crowd. Dorsey turned the mic off and handed it to an attendant.
“I want to ask you question number 37 privately,” Dorsey said.
