Romancing the Bulldog

by Mallory Monroe

  “A racist,” Stephen started ticking off the charges, “using his daughter to win black votes, weak, ineffective. He threw in the kitchen sink, the tub, the dishwasher, the refrigerator at you, Jace! We’ll in trouble.”

  Jason stood behind his desk and looked at his staff. They all looked terrified, ready for battle, but unsure what the orders should be. He exhaled. “Yes, we’re in trouble,” he admitted.

  “Miss Morgan has got to make a statement,” Carl said, “and she has got to hit back hard.”

  “Hit back hard?” Jason said angrily. “Hit back hard at who? Her own father? Are you nuts, Carl? You think I’m going to have her in front of cameras tearing apart the man who birth her?”

  “He had no problems tearing her apart,” Dexter said.

  “We’ve got to do something, Jace,” Stephen said, “we can’t just let this stand.”

  “Let her say something,” Carl said, “or I’m telling you we are screwed.” Jason ran his hands through his hair. “No.”

  “Have you spoken to her?” Carl asked.

  “No. I don’t know where she is.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know where she is?”

  “Just what I said, Carl! I called the Center but Shameika said she saw Hamp’s press conference and took off.”

  “Shameika? Who the hell’s Shameika?”

  “All right, everybody, let’s take a chill,” Dexter said. “We’re getting hysterical here.”

  “I understand that,” Carl said, “but this is past feeling now.”

  “We’ve got to return fire,” DeeDee said. “There’s no two ways about it. Hamp just annihilated us! He called you racist and weak and --”

  “DeeDee,” Jason said irritably, “I saw the presser. I know what he called me, all right?” But his mind was on Liz and what she must think of him. He pulled out his cell again and dialed her number. Again her voice mail picked up. He clicked off.

  “I say we accuse Hamp of a few things,” Stephen said.

  “Such as?” Carl asked.

  “Questionable business dealings, for one.”

  Jason frowned. “What questionable business dealings?”

  “How should I know? Let’s make that shit up the way he did us! He didn’t give a damn about any facts, why should we?”

  “So your solution is to call a press conference and lie about the man, that’s your solution, Stephen?”

  “Yes. Dammit! That man made us look like the KKK over here, and I don’t like it!”

  “Amen, brother,” Dexter said and he and Stephen fist bumped. Jason shook his head and began to leave.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said.

  “Go where?” Carl asked, his arms extended, his face unable to conceal his amazement.

  They were sinking like lead and he had to go?

  “I’ll be back,” was all Jason said to them, and left.

  “This is crazy!” Carl said, walking around as if he couldn’t believe it. Nobody responded, because they couldn’t believe it, either.

  ***

  Hamp leaned back in his chair. When the secretary said that his daughter was there to see him, he couldn’t help but smile. He even called Mal before he allowed Liz entrance. “Now the roaches scatter,” he said to his beloved son, and then he hung up the phone and told his secretary that he was ready.

  Liz walked in without any pretense of wanting to be there. No ‘how are you father,’ no

  ‘what’s up?’ Her amazement was up and she couldn’t wait to let him know it. “ Is is true?” she asked him, point blank.

  Hamp looked at her. “Hello, Elizabeth. How are you doing this wonderful day?” Liz folded her arms. “Is it true? Did you tell Jason you were running?”

  “Hello, Elizabeth.”

  Liz refused to go along. She could hardly contain her anger.

  Hamp gave in. “Yes, it’s true.”

  “You told him?”

  “Yes, I told him, didn’t I just say I told him? What’s with asking me over and over if I told him. Yes. I told him.

  “A week before he had his press conference?”

  “Yes, dear daughter, a week before.” Then he smiled, leaned back in his chair. “And yes, he used you, in case that was your next question. But then why should you question it when it’s so obvious.”

  Liz looked hard at him. “Why do you hate me?” she asked him.

  Hamp laughed. “Oh, is that what they call it? You let boyfriend use you, but you question my love for you? Is that how they taught you in those streets of hard knocks you decided you preferred? Not Harvard, oh no, not Elizabeth. She wants to do her own think, be her own woman. Yeah, right. You’re your own woman all right. Letting Jason Rascone, some white man, use you!”

  “Why do you hate me?” Liz asked again, genuinely perplexed. But he laughed again.

  “And what’s so funny?”

  “What’s funny was that your boy thought he had played his trump card when he stood up there and announced that my daughter was his girlfriend. He thought he had pulled a fast one over on me then. But what’s funny is he didn’t pull anything on me, and he didn’t play any trump card by declaring my daughter was his girlfriend. He overplayed his hand.”

  “What are you talking about? I am his girlfriend.”

  “Yeah,” Hamp said. “But you ain’t my daughter.”

  “I’m not your . . .” Liz’s look went from sincere puzzlement to slowly realized shock.

  “What are you saying?”

  “What I just said. I didn’t stutter.” He exhaled. Something appeared in his eyes: sadness, concern, Liz wasn’t sure. But almost as soon as it appeared, it disappeared. “You’re not my daughter.”

  Liz frowned. “What are you talking about? I am your daughter!”

  “I’m talking about the truth, that’s what I’m talking about. You always want truth, at least that’s what you love to say. ‘Let’s keep it real.’ You used to love to say that. So I’m keeping it real. Truth. My wife was your mother, that’s true, but you was never any kin to me.” Liz shook her head. For some reason her brain refused to compute what he was saying.

  It was as if he went from speaking English to Russian to Chinese and now it was all gibberish.

  “I’m not your daughter? You’re not my father?”

  “Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

  “But . . . how? Mother didn’t. . . Are you saying that Mother cheated on you?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. She was a trash barrel whore far as I’m concerned and you followed right in her footsteps. I tried to help you. Was willing to finance your education at Harvard---”

  “Oh, please. Harvard had nothing to do with me. It was all about you and your need to play the big man. Hamp’s daughter is in Harvard. Hamp’s daughter graduated from Harvard University. That’s all that was about. Because if you cared anything about my education, you would have allowed me to go to the school of my choice, not of yours! Harvard was all about you.”

  “Damn straight it was all about me. I raised your butt. I deserved something in return, some bragging rights, something. Besides, you would have gotten a great college degree out of it. But oh no, you meet some black flower child who think the world actually gives a damn about his civil rights and follow him, instead. And expected me to want anything to do with you after that? Because believe you me, the only reason I even allowed you back into my home at all was because I knew I would be running for mayor soon and wanted to make sure those pesky press people wouldn’t try to play up our estrangement. Now I don’t give a damn.”

  Liz just stood there, unable to begin to comprehend the enormity of what he was saying.

  This man she had called Father for so many years was really no kin to her at all?

  Hamp smiled. “Shocking, ain’t it?” he said. Then his smile left. “Well imagine how I felt when that two-dollar whore of a mother of yours admitted it. I suspected it all along. You don’t look nothing like me or Mal.”

  Liz
stared at Hamp. “Do you know who my real father is?”

  “Of course I don’t know! Hell your mama didn’t know. Pick a number, she told me. Get in line.” This caused Hamp to stop. The pain, for him, was still there.

  He exhaled as all of those raw memories began to surface. “When I found out that she had been sleeping around on me, and with more men than even she could count, and that was a smart bitch, I kicked her natural ass. She had to be bedridden for a week when I finished with her ass. The only reason I didn’t kick you and her out of my life altogether was because the damage had already been done. It wouldn’t have looked right. But after what you and boyfriend tried to do to me, bump how it looks. I don’t give a shit. You’re no kin to me and Jason will look like a fool when I go public with it.” Then he laughed again. “Good ol’

  Bulldog picked the wrong slut this time!”

  The only reason Liz had not ran out of Hamp’s presence already was because she was still too stunned to move. She knew it was some resentment he was harboring for her, and it was something bad, but she never would have dreamed it would be that. Not his daughter? She was not Hamp Morgan’s daughter? She eventually turned and left his office. But it wasn’t until she got behind the wheel of her Mustang did she breakdown, and shutter.

  FOURTEEN

  She didn’t say a word and Shameika didn’t ask her anything. It was one of those weird moments when her boss suddenly appeared at her door, she let her in, and then nothing. No explanations, nothing. Shameika didn’t know the whole story, but she did know that Liz was devastated. That press conference by her father, where he insinuated that Jason Rascone was nothing but a good-for-nothing racist who was using Liz to win reelection, seemed to have turned her world upside down and the last thing Shameika wanted to do was add to the drama.

  But she was curious as hell. Liz’s cell phone kept ringing, for one thing, and a look of even more consternation would cross her face. When she’d look at her caller ID to see who was phoning, she’d toss it back on the coffee table. For Shameika, it felt as if she had been around one woman this morning at work, and now a completely different woman tonight.

  Men, Shameika thought, and wanted to share her thoughts with Liz, but she didn’t. They just continued to sit in her tiny living room, and listen to a little jazz.

  It wasn’t until Liz excused herself to the bathroom, to cry her eyes out no doubt, Shameika decided, did Shameika herself take action. Because this was ridiculous, she thought, and grabbed Liz’s cell phone off of the coffee table. She had accessed Liz’s voice mail once before, and remembered how. Of course back then it was at Liz’s request. But mere technicalities never stopped Shameika before.

  As expected, the calls were coming from the same phone number. Shameika pressed to listen to the last one. No surprise there. It was Jason Rascone. “Liz, please!” he pleaded.

  “I’ve been looking all over this city for you! Please call me back! I need to see you, I need to talk to you, I have to know you’re okay. Please call me. Everything your father said was a lie. I’m no racist! And you know I wouldn’t use you, you know I love you. Liz, please, just talk to me!”

  His voice was so agonizing that Shameika knew she had to do something. She liked Jason. She liked the way he was so protective of Liz, so concerned about her. And the way he let her keep his car, his fancy Aston Martin when hers was in the shop, and the way he moved her out of that ratty apartment she lived in, and even had her Mustang repaired from what Shameika could gather. Why would he do all of that if he was just using her? Why would he spend all of that money on her, and spend all of his time with her? It didn’t smell right to Shameika. And that was why she didn’t delay. She called back the voice message.

  ***

  It was as if he had flown to Shameika’s apartment because, in fifteen minutes, he was at her front door. Liz hadn’t been back from the bathroom but a few minutes herself. But it didn’t matter because as soon as she saw Jason enter Shameika’s home, she bolted for the bedroom.

  “Liz, wait!” Jason pleaded but Liz didn’t stop. She couldn’t face him right now. Not right now!

  But Jason had to face her, and he had to face her right now. He ran behind her and pushed back open the door just before she was able to completely slam it shut. Once inside the bedroom with her, he closed the door.

  “I don’t want to talk right now,” she made clear. “Please.”

  “We’ve got to talk.”

  “I know we do. But not now.”

  “It has to be now,” Jason said, moving further into the room. “It’ll kill me if we don’t talk about this. I’ve been all over this town looking for you. If Shameika wouldn’t have phoned me, I still would be searching for you.”

  “She did what?” Liz said, astounded.

  “Don’t blame her,” he said, still approaching Liz. Liz began backing up.

  “You can stay right where you are, Jason.”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “So what are you going to do? Bum-rush me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not a bulldog, you’re a bully!”

  “Yes, I know.” Then her back was against the bedroom wall and Jason had cornered her.

  He unfolded her arms and held them over her head.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as she attempted to wiggle out of his hold.

  “Your father wasn’t telling the truth, Liz. I love you. I would never use you like that.”

  “So you didn’t know he was running until his press conference this morning, right?” Jason’s sudden hesitation in answering caused the agony already on Liz’s face to become even more pronounced. She turned her face from him. “Just leave me alone!” she said as if the emotions of the day were exhausting her.

  “I knew,” he said, “but that was after we hooked back up, Liz. That was after I realized how much I wanted to be with you.”

  “Was it after you went on television and said I was your girlfriend? Was it after you went public with our relationship?” When again Jason didn’t respond, Liz nodded. “Thought so,” she said and was able to wiggle her arms free.

  “But I’m not using you, you’ve got to believe that!”

  “I don’t want to talk right now, Jason.”

  “You can’t leave me.”

  “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” Then she sighed. This was too much. “Just leave.

  Please! I need time to think!”

  “I won’t run,” Jason said so spur of the moment that even he was surprised. But he meant every word. “I won’t seek reelection, Liz. Then you’ll know I’m not using you.

  Please don’t leave me, Liz. Marry me.”

  Liz looked at Jason unable to shield her confusion. Marry him? Was he nuts? Then she shook her head. “Just leave. I can’t deal with this right now.”

  “But your father is lying!”

  “Don’t call him that!” Liz said, showing unbridled anger for the first time. Then she calmed back down. “He’s not my father,” she said softly.

  Jason frowned. “You mean you don’t want him to be your father?”

  “He’s not my father. He told me so himself. My mother had an affair or one night stand or whatever she had and I was born. The only reason he didn’t divorce my mother and disown me was because it wouldn’t look right. It wouldn’t look right, he said. So he raises me, sends me to the best private schools, is willing to pay for me to go to Harvard, just for appearance’s sake. Not for me. But for him. So he could keep up the façade of being the epitome of success and status. Of having arrived. So excuse me, Jason, if I’m a little cynical here. Excuse me if I’m a little slow about believing any man who once had that man’s confidence.” Tears began to appear in her eyes. “Just leave,” she said to him.

  Jason’s heart dropped. Not his daughter? How could Hamp tell her something like that now, when he had to know she was already devastated when he claimed she was being used, those pack of lies he told earlier today. Look at her. Jason wanted to
scoop her up into his arms and never let her go. But she was right. She needed time to think.

  “If you leave here and go anywhere else to stay, you promise to let me know, Liz?” Liz nodded. Anything, he knew, to get rid of him. But he left. His presence was only adding to her distress.

  Besides, he had somebody to see.

  ***

  The commotion could be heard all the way in the dining room. Hamp was eating alone and reading over papers when Jason came tearing into his orbit, with his butler hurrying behind him.

  “I informed the mayor that you were not receiving guests tonight, sir,” the butler insisted,

  “but he refused to be stopped.”

  “So,” Hamp said with a smile, “the bulldog cometh.”

  “You’ve got some nerve, Hamp,” Jason said.

  The butler again attempted to remove Jason. Jason snatched away from him.

  “It’s okay, Rog,” Hamp said.

  “Reinforcements, sir?”

  “Nall,” Hamp said, “I think I can handle the bull dog and all of his bull. You’re excused.” The butler left, but didn’t go far. It was obvious even to Jason that he didn’t trust his own mayor.

  “So what is it now? Upset because I check-mate your ass?”

  “Why did you tell Liz that you weren’t her father?”

  Hamp was thrown. Of all the issues he felt Jason would have with him, that wasn’t one of them. “I told her because it’s true.”

  “Yeah, well, DNA will solve that issue.”

  Hamp laughed. “You can’t handle it, can you? The truth, I mean. You thought you had me dead to rights. Sleep with my daughter, announce on television that she’s your lady, twist the knife into good ol’ Hamp. But it all backfired. Because she’s not my daughter as it happens, a fact that I will be announcing myself soon. So you see, you’ve been punked, my brother. You picked the wrong slut this time!”

  As soon as Hamp used that derogatory word to describe the woman he loved, Jason was upon him. He hit him so hard, and so quickly, that Hamp fell back in his chair. The butler rushed in to help, but it was already too late. Jason jumped down on top of Hamp, and both men were fighting each other as if they were in a ring in Vegas, not on the marbled floor of an elegant dining room.