Page 59 of Pride and Protest
Dorsey looked thoughtful. “I think I would invite my biological father.”
Her eyebrows rose. “From what you told me, he probably wasn’t a good dude.”
“I know. He was probably a rich, abusive asshole who thought he could take advantage of a poor foreigner in his home.” The pads of his fingers traced up and down the small of her back. She let go a soft breath. Degree by fractional degree, Liza was unspooling.
“So, what would you even do at dinner?” Liza asked.
“I would be a rich, abusive asshole.”
Liza thought she should close this line of questioning, but he asked her—
“And you?”
“Uh, honestly?” Liza asked.
His gaze was dark and intentional on her. There was no bottom to those smoldering eyes. “Always.”
Liza felt for the first time how far out of her depth she’d waded once again. Every turn in the road led to Dorsey. “I would invite Patricia Fitzgerald,” she said.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Why my mom?”
“She was just this middle-class lady from the Rust Belt, and she built an entire ecosystem of goodness all over the world. WCO’s work is unimpeachable, and she did it all by making rich people pay for it. I did a paper on her for my international studies thesis.”
“Um, that’s...” He trailed off and squinted like he was trying to make something out. “I think that may be the mayor that LeDeya just asked to hold her shoes?” Dorsey stopped swaying.
Liza turned to see her sister with her sky-high heels off, twerking and popping her booty up and down.
“How do you twerk to Teddy Pendergrass?” Liza wondered aloud. “Lord, all she needs is a pole.” This was the Bennetts’ worst showing. Dorsey took a step back from her, and Liza’s body chilled. Had they been dancingthatclose?
“Where are David’s parents?” Liza asked, putting her hands to her sides.
“They sent their apologies,” Dorsey said. Liza sighed in relief. “And I think your mom has had enough champagne.” Dorsey’s arms loosened around her, and Liza sensed the chill creepinginto his demeanor. Mr. Freeze was back. Liza turned just in time to hear Bev laugh loudly, sloshing her drink all over her wrist.
“And she better poke a hole in that condom if she knows what’s up!” She laughed while onlookers exchanged pained looks.
“Oh God, that joke again. She is too much.” Liza freed herself from Dorsey’s arms and walked toward her mother. Dorsey walked in the opposite direction, toward the bar.
The night only dared to get worse, as her brother was eventually kicked out of the party for rushing the stage yet again. Granny went thirty-five minutes over her seven-minute presentation slot and spoke for ten minutes alone on her fertilizer mixture (“for sale at the Bennett table; just ask the girl in white without a date”). Bev got so drunk that she was cursing everybody out at the end. She had seen a man walking with his wife and checking out another woman, and screamed, “Men gon’ be men!”
Liza left the party, dragging Janae, Bev, Granny, and LeDeya into the limo. Somehow, she’d lost her brother.
Dorsey pretended to be occupied with his fingernails when Jennifer’s skirt swirled around his feet.
“You look pleased with yourself, Dorsey,” she said. He hadn’t spoken to her since her dressing down at his loft. But she was right. He was pleased with himself. His nerve endings were still on fire from the sensation. Every eye on him was a sharp pinprick, but he had done it. Dancing in public felt like the ultimate test of belonging somewhere. The type of dances you knew and the way you did them marked your class, your personality, even your age. He just didn’t want to be marked like that by the people around him. He was already different enough. But his sheerforce of desire to be close to Liza had chipped away at that phobia. His chest expanded, and a smile kept creeping up his face no matter how hard he tried to keep a neutral expression.
“I just might stay the whole time,” Dorsey said.
“What was that? Some kind of good-PR dance? Finally following Senator De Berg’s advice? It’ll make the policymakers in DC a little less nervous.” Jennifer looped her arm around his.
“No.” He scratched his nose as an excuse to unlock their arms. “I justreallywanted to dance with her.”
“After everything I’ve seen tonight, there’s no way I’m letting anyone in that family near anyone in my family. I think you owe it to David to tell him what you heard Janae’s mother say.”
“I’ve already told him. He needs to move on. But he’s his own man, and she’s really got her hooks in him.”
Liza isn’t her family.Dorsey kept repeating that mantra in his head. But there was no way they could seriously date with those albatrosses around her neck. She came with too many liabilities. He couldn’t be dragged under by scandal.
He saw Liza’s little brother sauntering toward him. Jennifer excused herself, probably to avoid any and all Bennetts. Dorsey braced himself. He knew little about Maurice, but he recognized that purposeful walk.
