Page 80 of Pride and Protest
“Don’t like the same boys,” they both said in unison.
Dorsey looked over to Colin. “Solid pact,” was all he said. Liza put her hand to her mouth like her wine might spill out.
A tiny droplet fell onto the fabric of her white shirt, spreading and staining just above the peak of her nipple. He couldn’t believe she actually hadn’t worn that bra. He could make out the sway of her breast easily in the snug shirt. Maybe he could get that wine stain out with his mouth? His balls tightened. He must have veins bulging out of the side of his neck.
Shit.
How long have I been staring at her nipples?
Liza’s speech was slowing down. Could she be as nervous as he?
He looked over at his glass and realized she had been drinking from both his and her own glasses. Perhaps the unflappable woman needed a little liquid courage tonight. Dorsey looked down at his hands, then surprised himself by grazing Liza’s thigh with his knuckles. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. She looked up at him, grabbed his wineglass, and finished the contents in one swallow, her eyes never leaving his.
The game is afoot.
SELF-CHECKOUT
What are the top things to do in Alexandria?” After a moment, Liza continued, “Wrong answers only.” Liza posed with her selfie stick in the senator’s bathroom. It was so luxe with its red cloth wallpaper, gold finishes, and Tuscan tile that Liza didn’t think she’d find a better spot to stream. Let her followers think she was joining them from a Roman bath.
“ ‘Oh lord... the men... Stay away, Liza girl,’ ” she read from the comments.
“Don’t worry about me and men tonight,” she replied to the comment. “You ever had the feeling that the room is full of gasoline and you have a match in your pocket?”
Oh, you gon’ burn it up tonight, Liza?
She laughed. “I want to do damage, DC family. Okay, I have one more post tonight, and you’ll never know where I’ll be. This WQUR live cast is, as always, brought to you by our friends at Pemberley Development. They put thetrustin ‘trust fund kids.’ ”
When the famous potatoes were finally served, Dorsey found them lifeless, saltless, and hard to boot. The sauerkraut was bitter and the bratwurst greasy. It was one of the worst meals he’d ever eaten. Liza had artfully spaced all the food on her plate to give the illusion of an eaten meal. His thigh pressed against hers. It was everything he could do to hold his hands at his sides. Seeing her, being near her again, was just too intense for him. They had kept a loose correspondence in these three months, with quick teasing texts or memes. Their communication seemed almost easy. And communication hadnevercome easy to Dorsey. Liza didn’t know how he agonized for hours before he sent her a message. She would shoot back something pithy, and he would be reeling all over again. It was what made him get over his second thoughts about her family and come to see her.
“Liza,” Senator De Berg boomed across the table, “I hear you’re here to help Lucia with her podcast. Are you a good interviewer?”
“Not really. My show isn’t really that format.”
“Have you heard that podcastSerial? Can you make the podcast a little like that?”
“A true-crime mystery women’s Christian podcast?” Liza smirked.
The senator nodded wistfully. “I could’ve been a reporter. I have an instinct, you know? And I don’t give up. With a little training, I could have been at theWashington Post.”
“Oh, most definitely, sir, and excelling at that as much as you do your public service work,” Colin simpered.
“It’s a similar skill,” Chicho said.
“That’s right. I could see this wall full of Pulitzers had I just pushed in the opposite direction.” The senator pulled up his high school newspaper pictures, kept at the ready on his Facebook profile. He passed the phone around. Everyone nodded politely. Except for Colin, who sighed in awe.
“We’re all so glad you chose public service, Senator.”
“Public service,” the senator said, pausing wistfully, “chose me.”
Dorsey saw Liza and Park roll their eyes together.
“So, Liza, how’s your crusade against progress going?” the senator asked.
“Progressing, actually.” Liza smiled tightly.
“I got a look at that amateurish proposal you drafted.”
Dorsey saw Liza look over to Colin, then to him. “There are still some wrinkles to iron out,” she said.
