Page 93 of Pride and Protest
“I just want to start off by saying that my brother can be a little shy about interacting, but he’s not mean. I don’t think he meant to—”
“Oh, that’s okay. That’s all... that’s not important.” She wasn’t in the mood for a rousing defense of Dorsey right now.
“Okay, so I won’t hold you up. When I was a young girl, Isaiah’s mom used to braid my hair. I’d probably had a crush on him since I was eleven years old. So, imagine my face at my eighteenth birthday when he told me he wanted me to help him start a company.”
“Gigi, I’m sorry if Dorsey told you—”
“Liza, just let me get the whole thing out before I lose my courage.”
“Okay.” Liza’s grip tightened on the phone.
“In a year’s time, he had fleeced me for over fifty thousand dollars in free labor and a hundred and seventeen thousand dollars out of my trust.”
Liza was trying to process all that. “Wow, um, Gigi. Did he steal from you?”
“No, I gave it freely. In fact, I stole over forty thousand dollars from my parents’ friends for him. Once everyone found out that it was a scam, I was the one who got busted. I was lookingat max fifteen to twenty years and a felony on my record for the rest of my life. My parents had the money to clear this up and get my charges reduced. But I still have a record, and it will follow me for the rest of my life. I found out later that Isaiah had signed an affidavit stating that everything was my idea, then left the country. Whatever you’re doing with Isaiah, make sure you don’t get caught holding the bag. He wraps himself up in legitimacy and just takes from people.”
A slow, creeping shame began to inch its way across her chest. “Thank you for letting me know the type of man he is.” The knowledge seemed to crack inside her like ice. She believed Gigi. But surely this work with Netherfield, her proposal, wasn’t a scam. They were going through all the proper channels. She’d seen to the necessary financial checks throughout the proposalherself.
Surely this was different.
She wasn’t a lovesick eighteen-year-old. But something still and quiet in the back of her mind knew it was true.
“Liza?”
“Yes?”
“If we ever meet up again, could you show me that thing you did with your hair at the Netherfield Gala? Dorsey said it was the most beautiful style he’s seen you in.”
“Oh, that twist-out? I would love—” Liza cut herself off. Damned hair vanity almost got her back in that man’s house. “Definitely, Gigi.”
After they hung up, Liza drew a ragged breath. WIC had been so quick to enlist her in his campaign. She had given over her movement to him even when Janae had told her not to. This locked so many hanging questions into place. Why had she neverbeen able to find out much about him online? Why had he ditched her at the gala? Why was he so insistent that she take a swing at Dorsey? How could she have been so wrong about someone? Her stomach lurched when she remembered how readily she had lapped up WIC’s lies.
When Dorsey had confessed to her, he told her nothing but his own truth, even when it cast him in a negative light.
How could she tell him those things when he had been so frank about his feelings for her? She could never face him again. Her arrogance, her stupidity, her willingness to believe any story about him—anyterrible story—embarrassed her. She was ashamed of herself, and if she ever saw him again, it would be too soon.
Would she ever live down this egregious mistake in judgment?
This was how Granny found her, crying into her pillow—shoulders shaking, eyes red and puffy.
“Liza, baby, I know this kind of cry.”
“I’m just sad, Granny.” Liza’s voice cracked with the sheer force of trying to sound okay.
“This is the kind of sad only Aretha Franklin can fix.” Granny pulled out Liza’s phone from underneath her. Aretha was reserved for top-tier emotions only. It was the liquor on the top shelf at the emotional bar. She’d heard Aretha as she orgasmed in the back of that town car. Her heart had been so full. And the Queen of Soul would soothe her heart now that it was empty.
“How do I get to ‘Ain’t No Way’ on this phone?” It was a pitch-perfect song. Aretha pleaded to her lover to just let her in, and Granny patted Liza’s head, sliding her hands through the square parts in her twists. It was restorative, and Liza let herself cry into her granny’s chest.
“I thinkIbroke someone’s heart,” Liza finally said through sobs. “They didn’t deserve it.”
“Liza, are you actually having second thoughts about Colin?” Granny sounded incredulous and a little worried.
Liza’s head jerked up from her granny’s breast. “What?”
“Ever since you came home from Alexandria, you’ve been beat down, and I thought—”
“No, Granny.”
