Page 78 of Pride and Protest
“I don’t know Korean, but I have a feeling that’s some kind of asshole. Why? Because you keep trying to hook me up with your chatty Korean cousins?” Dorsey rolled his eyes.
“They’re women, aren’t they? And you mean to tell me thatthiswoman tolerates you? A sister? From Wokeville, USA?”Joseph Park was from a diverse and culturally fluid space that gave him the ability to relate to just about anyone. He had grown up in Flushing, Queens, and had one foot in old Korea and another foot in the hot food truck scene. His Ajumma House Korean food trucks were parked in nearly every major metropolitan area.
“Well, I think she more than tolerates me? I think we’re kind of serious.”
“Serious? Have you been ononedate?”
“It’s complicated. We can’t be out in public. It’s a whole thing.”
Dorsey handed Joseph the phone and scrolled through the text messages quickly so he couldn’t read too deeply.
“Is this just today?” Park whistled.
Dorsey nodded.
“Damn. This is more than I’ve ever texted anyone. Like in my whole life. Wait, what is IFF?”
“Don’t read my texts.”
“You handed me your texts!” Park was incredulous.
“To see the amount. Not to read, you nosy mofo. IFF is International Food Friday. Liza and I choose a country—it started off as a joke about the senators little parties—and we FoodDash—”
Park swiped at the air. “Never mind. I thought it was some freaky shit. But that sounds boring.”
Dorsey ran his fingers through his hair. “Park, I want to take a big step, and I want her to feel safe and—”
“Which is why you’re bringing your Korean lucky charm?”
“Youarecharming and Korean.”
“I’m honored to be your wingman, Dorsey, but my job is to be the voice of reason for you. You’ve never been this close to the L word. I’m gonna have to play bad cop with her. If a womanwho looks like that Instagram photo gets anywhere near your dick, you’re going to buy her an island. So, you need to be sure.”
Dorsey blew out his breath and opened the car door. It was not Park’s charm or discernment Dorsey was relying on tonight; it was his ability to make Dorsey feel safe and normal, even funny. Park’s presence was more courage-inducing than tequila, without the headache in the morning. His heart hammered in his chest, and before he could knock, the door swung open. The housekeeper’s face met his with a deflated sigh. Joseph snorted and pushed Dorsey’s shoulder.
The housekeeper led them down the hallway, brimming with glossy prints of the senator’s wife, Anne. Anne on a horse. Anne blowing out candles. Always the same angle, always the same sullen face. The hallway was a shrine to Anne’s discontent with her life. When they rounded the corner, the smell of German pretzel bread, sauerkraut, and sausage made his stomach churn. What on earth had he signed up for? Wasn’t this Russia night?
“Happy Fasching!” Liza popped up like she was bursting out of a birthday cake.Is she happy to see me?Dorsey’s eyes zeroed in on her chest. Did she have her bra on? He vowed to check personally. Liza laughed out loud, probably because she knew the direction of his thoughts.Yes, she is happy to see me.That small realization made his throat feel thick and his face hot.
Dorsey cleared his throat, too afraid his voice would crack with emotion if he spoke. Liza was radiant. Bright teeth, reddish brown curls swept up in a high puff, and curly bangs across her forehead. She wore a dark military-cut jacket with a shirt on which, as hard as he tried, he could only make out the word “pussy” across her low belly.
That’s it. She was taunting him. He knew it.
“It’s German Lent! Can I interest you in some boiledpotatoes?” Liza asked, the teasing still in her eyes. Dorsey turned to see Park beaming. So much for bad cop.
Colin stood up. “The best boiled potatoes you’ll ever have, I’m sure!”
“I think if you’ve tasted one boiled potato—” Park started.
Liza shook her head. “No,thesewill be the best boiled potatoes you’ve ever had.” Park laughed a funny little laugh, and Dorsey was suddenly struck with the fear that Joseph would see Liza’s magnetism and sparkle too. Why would he then want to be his wingman when he could have her himself? He was everything a woman like Liza would like.
No, I’m being paranoid.
Liza walked around the table, and when Dorsey saw those jeans, his eyes shot heavenward in a prayer for mercy.
Where would you even buy pants that snug? The children’s section?The jeans hugged her curved thighs and slender hips. A fine figure, his father would say, a fine-figured gal.Her ass is a damned masterpiece of biological engineering.
Dorsey greeted the senator with a tight nod, still not completely over the kick in the chest those jeans were. “I want to introduce Joseph Park, one of my closest friends.” He could see Colin scrolling on his phone.
