Page 81 of Pride and Protest
Dorsey kept his eyes on her sleek hands and the tiny little gold rings on each finger. A cracked-screen Apple Watch looked incongruous on her slender wrist.
“People aren’t taking you seriously after those photos, huh?” Senator De Berg’s response was tinged with a touch of glee. Dorsey couldn’t read Liza. She just blinked and held her composure at the senator’s remarks. Maybe she had a lot of practice dodging mean comments. “If you’re still having trouble getting into the room where it happens, call me.” The senator was smug. Dorsey wanted to punch the smile right off his face.
“I have had trouble being taken seriously since the gala. I’ve lost followers and credibility.” Liza was clear-eyed and focused. The vulnerability she could express while still looking like a badass was a thing of wonder to him. “But if I got into this work just for the likes, I would have quit a long time ago.” She gavethe senator a hard stare. “My work doesn’t have to be public and loud to be good. In fact, you’ll find that my ‘amateurish’ proposal has been vetted by several council members and may quietly land on their desk for approval. And then my quietly drafted legislation will make it just a little harder for companies to come in and overturn apple carts.”
“Dorsey, you hear this? Liza’s got plans for all of your work.” The senator was out for blood.
“I wish Liza luck inallof her endeavors. I hope in the future we can work together toward thesamegoal.”
The senator’s face did some facsimile of a smile. But his eyes burned in anger. “Okay, cut the horseshit,” he said through forced laughter. “You don’t want her to succeed. How could you? She’s your enemy.”
“A wise man said I should choose my friends for their good looks, and my enemies for their intellects.” Park looked from Dorsey to Liza, then to the senator. “Who said that, Dorsey?”
“Oscar Wilde, I believe.” Dorsey dabbed at the corners of his mouth.
Liza looked up. “You know, it’s funny, when it rains, it pours. They got money for wars but can’t feed the poor.” Liza smiled and took on the same confident air as Park. “Who said that, Chicho?” Liza looked at her friend.
Colin shot daggers at Chicho, and Chicho put her head down.
Before Liza’s face could fall, Dorsey answered, “I believe it was Tupac.”
Park winked at him, and Dorsey had to stop himself from kicking him under the table.
Dorsey was egged on nonetheless and continued. “It’s interesting how government deprioritization of the poor getstranslated into corporate responsibility.” Dorsey was rewarded with a surprised look from Liza.
Liza moved her food around her plate. “Dorsey, you know Tupac, but notHarry Potter?”
“Oh, I can explain this.” Park put down his fork. “Dorsey is a die-hard West Coast rap aficionado.”
Dorsey shook his head. “Not this again.” It was Park’s favorite piece of knowledge about Dorsey.
“Even when faced with the superior lyrics of Biggie, Jay Z, Nas, and Meek Mill. Despite growing up in Philly, he still stans Dr. Dre, Tupac, and Kendrick Lamar—as if they compare.” Park laughed.
“I have no coastal allegiance for hip-hop,” Colin said.
Liza’s improperly placed napkin fell from the table, and Dorsey caught it before it hit the ground. “Liza, my brother, Alexi, is—was—into West Coast rap. Those lyrics take up a ridiculous portion of my brain.”
Liza took the napkin from his hand and put it back on the table.Why does she never put napkins on her lap?She had made fun of his persnickety napkining at the hotel bar. But he didn’t care; there was a wrong and right way to do things. Dorsey took the napkin again and folded it over her lap. Not missing the opportunity to run his thumbs across her thighs. He realized that the table had gone quiet when Colin cleared his throat.
“Chicho and I are really moving away from the violence of hip-hop into safer, calmer music. Right, Chicho?” Chicho nodded, and Liza put her fork down noisily. Dorsey wondered how she and Chicho were doing. It must not be easy to see her friend attached to someone like Colin, who seemed to always be campaigning for elected office, even at dinner. Silence once again rolled over the table.
“And that, folks, is how you entertain,” the senator boomed, cracking the silence, and Colin immediately began hooting with laughter, followed by Chicho and Fredo. Liza looked impatient for this night to be over. It was time to get down to the business of his visit.
Be bold, Dorsey. Say what you want.
“Liza,” he began, his voice coming out too loud.Keep your cool. “Park is an avid Korean rap fan. I know you were looking for worldwide collections.”
Liza’s eyes widened. “Oh yes. I’m doing these hip-hop showcases on my radio program.”
“Can we show you his collection and mine? He’s out with me in Georgetown,” Dorsey said hopefully.
“I could come hang out, sure. I’d”—she risked a glance at Chicho—“I’d have to get back here, though. We have work to do tomorrow.”
“Of course, of course,” Park said through smiles, lifting up from the table so forcefully he tipped his plate. “Which jacket is yours?”
“Oh, you mean right now?” Liza looked like she was holding in an eruption of laughter. “Chicho, wanna come?”
“Um...”
