Romancing the Bulldog

by Mallory Monroe

  Although Liz laughed, Jason was too busy looking down the length of Liz to hear Shameika’s comment. “You look beautiful,” he finally said. “You take my breath away.” Liz smiled. Put her arms around his neck. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” When he placed his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her, she suddenly felt him swell larger and larger. She pulled back.

  “Jason, we can’t,” she said but she said it too late. He had already grabbed her by the hand and was all but pulling her into the bedroom.

  “But I just got dressed!” she said.

  “I’ll dress you back,” he said without breaking his stride.

  “But what about the press conference!”

  “We’ve got hours still,” he reminded her, pulled her into the bedroom, and slammed the door.

  Shameika didn’t hear the slam. She was too busy searching the refrig for something to eat that didn’t look like alfalfa sprouts or other roughage that seemed to dominate Liz’s food preference. Where was the chicken, the French fries, the leftover Chinese food, Shameika wanted to know. But by the time she had found something edible, a hunk of cheese, and had cut off a slice and headed back into the living room, she heard the sounds.

  First it was of a slow bed rock, which at first startled her since she knew Liz was already dressed and ready to go. But when the rock began to intensify and became a lot of knocking and squeaking, Shameika had to smile. Banging was more the word, she thought to herself, and excused herself back into the kitchen.

  She wasn’t in there ten minutes, however, before knocks once again were heard on the front door. First she sat there, wondering how could anyone have gotten all the way up to the penthouse without the downstairs desk first requesting permission to let them up. Jason was able to do it, of course, because it was his place, or at least as far as the downstairs staff was concerned. But who else would have that liberty? When Shameika went into the living room and looked through the door’s peephole, seeing that it was that Jaguars hunk Dexter McGhee, Carl Browning, and Stephen Armitage, she understood who. They were members of Jason’s staff and was probably given the green light years ago. But there was a problem. The sounds from the bedroom continued to echo throughout the front of the apartment, including occasional shouts of elation from Jason. Shameika certainly couldn’t allow anyone in at this moment in time.

  “Yes,” she said with the door shut. “May I help you?”

  “We need to see the mayor,” Carl replied.

  “I’m sorry but the mayor is rather busy right now,” Shameika replied as Jason again let out a “oh, baby,” as the banging continued.

  “This is Carl Browning, Shameika,” Carl said, recognizing Shameika’s voice, “and this is urgent.”

  “I understand that, but the mayor is indisposed at the moment.” Stephen Armitage moved in front of the peephole. “You listen here, young lady, and you listen good. We are not joking! If Jason Rascone isn’t at this door in two minutes, this door will be knocked down, preferably on top of you!”

  Shameika took a literal step back. “Well!” she said, but she hurried to the bedroom door just the same.

  Jason, however, was still pounding Liz, his body unable to be satisfied as he plunged deeper and deeper into her. Liz had already warned him that he was being too loud, that Shameika was still in the apartment, but he couldn’t help himself. Not where Liz was concerned. This woman had him craving her so many hours in the day that he often wondered how he got any work done. And now, with her beneath him, he couldn’t let her up. He kept pounding. Neither one of them heard Shameika’s knocks until her knocking became banging.

  Jason stopped and fell on top of Liz, his strength gone. “Damn!” he yelled.

  “What is it?” Liz yelled out.

  “Your staff is here to see the mayor,” Shameika said from the other side of the door.

  “Sorry, but they say it’s urgent that they see him and that they see him now. Stephen Armitage has threatened bodily harm on me if Jason don’t come now.” Liz smiled. Jason was still too angry to even try.

  “Okay, Meek,” Liz said, “tell them he’ll be there in a sec.”

  “Will do,” Shameika said and hurried to let their guests in.

  Jason, however, wasn’t in as big a hurry. He lay on top of Liz a few moments longer.

  “Come on, Jace,” Liz said, attempting to move him off of her, “we’ve got to stop.” Jason knew it, but he didn’t want to get out of her. “They can wait.”

  “No, they can’t. Come on.”

  Finally Jason reluctantly moved out and then rolled off of her. When he landed on his back, Liz began getting up. When she saw her hair in the mirror, standing on top of her head, she frowned. “Look at what you’ve done!” she said. “It took me an hour to get that hairstyle together.” She hit him on his ribbed stomach. “Get up, you louse!” she demanded.

  It was only then that Jason smiled.

  All smiles vanished, however, when he and Liz entered into the living room nearly twenty minutes after they had gotten out of bed, both dressed but neither in any great humor. But when Jason saw his staff, he realized neither were they, and it wasn’t the usual unusual.

  “What is it?” he immediately asked them.

  Carl, Stephen, and Dexter were seated side by side on the sofa. Carl stood up. “Hamp has made you an offer,” he said.

  Jason sat Liz down in the chair flanking the sofa and he sat on the chair’s arm, motioning for Carl to sit down, too. “Tell me,” he said.

  “We have information that DeeDee went to Hamp’s camp earlier this week and gave them the heads up about the announcement of your engagement today.”

  “DeeDee,” Jason said. “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Then get rid of her ass,” Jason insisted.

  “Already done,” Carl said. “I played proxy for you and fired her myself.”

  “Good.”

  “But that being said,” Carl went on, “her information caused Hamp to drop a small bombshell on us.” Carl exhaled, then continued. “Hamp wants you to resign as mayor of Jacksonville, and he wants your resignation at the presser today.”

  “Why? What does he have?” Liz wanted to know, her face a mask of concern. Jason placed his arm across her thin shoulder. When his staff wouldn’t respond, but began glancing at each other, Liz became even more concerned.

  “What is it?” she insisted.

  “As if you don’t know,” Stephen couldn’t stop himself from saying.

  Jason stood up. “Get out,” he said to his aide.

  Stephen, stunned, stood too. “Jace, you don’t know what we’ve got on her---”

  “I said get out of this house and get out now!”

  “But, sir,” Stephen said, beginning to panic now, “she’s the reason--”

  “Okay, that’s it,” Jason said and grabbed Stephen by the catch of his collar and all but dragged him to the front door. He then opened the door and slung him out of it.

  “But sir, I’m sorry!” Stephen said, desperate beyond measure now. But it was too late.

  Jason slammed the door.

  It’s about time , Shameika wanted to say, but she said nothing. She knew that the only reason she was ever included in this inner circle of pure power was because Liz and now Jason trusted her. She wasn’t about to say or do anything to violate that trust.

  Jason sat back on the arm of the chair, again putting his hand on Liz. Liz knew that whatever the news was, it was bad.

  “Okay, out with it,” Jason said to Carl. “What’s Hamp up to?” Carl again looked at Dexter, then he looked at their boss. “Hamp says if you don’t resign, and resign during your press conference today, he will go public with information on Liz.” Liz’s heart dropped. “What kind of information?”

  “If it’s about that drug dealing ex-husband of hers, you needn’t worry, Carl,” Jason said,

  “she already told me all about that.”

  “Oh, really now?” Dexter s
aid. “It would have been nice if you would have shared that bit of information with us.”

  “Not relevant,” Jason said. “I’m the mayor, not my wife. Or soon-to-be wife,” Jason corrected himself, although he felt within the deepest reaches of his soul that Liz was already his. “Her past has nothing to do with my public office.”

  “If Hamp goes public, it will. And the answer to your inquiry is no, it doesn’t have to do with her drug dealing ex. It has to do with Liz and her own drug dealing,” Carl said.

  Jason frowned. “What?” he said, still staring at Carl. “What the hell are you implying?” Carl and Dexter, however, were staring at Liz. And Liz appeared to them to be physically ill by the fact that they now knew her secret. When Jason realized they were staring at Liz, he looked at Liz too. What he saw broke his heart.

  “Sweetheart?” he asked, getting off of the chair’s arm and bending down to her. “Are you all right?”

  Tears began to well up in her big, bright eyes. “It’s not true,” she said.

  “I know it’s not true,” Jason said. “You would never do anything like that.”

  “She did it,” Carl said definitively and Jason looked at him. “Hamp’s people showed us the evidence. They have affidavit after affidavit from cops, community leaders, drug addicts and former drug dealers in Philadelphia, all attesting to the fact that Liz Morgan did sell drugs.”

  “Her ex-husband sold drugs. And when she found out she left him.”

  “She was arrested, Jace,” Dexter said.

  “She was arrested, Dex,” Jason said, “so the cops could squeeze her for information on her then husband. Information, by the way, that she did not have.”

  “She was arrested because her then husband swore that she was selling right along with him, that she, with her Harvard-caliber brain, was the mastermind behind the whole scheme.”

  “That’s not true,” Liz said, tears flowing freely.

  “That wasn’t the official charge, that’s right,” Carl said, “but it was the fact of the matter, and Hamp has affidavits to prove it.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Jason said, standing again. “An affidavit doesn’t prove a damn thing. People lie under oath every day of the week.”

  “Not this many people,” Carl insisted.

  “It’s not true!” Liz said angrily, but Jason grabbed her by the arms.

  “Don’t you dare say that again,” he assured her. “Of course it’s not true, and you don’t have to prove it to anybody. Especially not my own staff!” He said this and looked at Carl and Dex.

  Dex ran his hand over his head. “This is a problem, Jace,” he said, “no matter how you slice it, it’s a bad slice.”

  “Dex is right,” Carl said. “Because even if what she says is true, and she is innocent, the public can’t forgive this. Not this. There’s too much there there.

  “And in the black community here in J-ville,” Dex said, “they will not tolerate it. Hamp will paint her as a crackhead who sold drugs to get her groove on and there’s no manner of

  ‘no, it’s not true,’ that’s going to change that fact. Especially when Hamp bust out with the affi’s. All signed and sealed straight out of Philly. That’ll legitimize what he’s claiming, true or not. And if our campaign was already on life support yesterday, today, if Hamp goes public with what he has, we may as well pull the plug. ‘Cause it’s over. Put a fork in it, we’re done.”

  Liz dropped her face in her hands. Jason stood erect. And Hamp, they knew, wherever he was, was shouting hallelujah.

  ***

  The press conference was called off until tomorrow, Shameika, Carl, and Dex left, and Jason and Liz spent the balance of the day holed up in the penthouse. Liz didn’t speak about it, and Jason didn’t ask her any questions. She, instead, went out onto the balcony and stayed there, relaxing in the lounger although, as Jason watched her from the vantage point of their bedroom, she was hardly relaxed. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he had to make a decision. Liz would not be put through the meat grinder, no matter how ridiculous Hamp’s lies.

  The idea that Liz would sell drugs, crack no less, was ludicrous to Jason. That was why he asked her for no explanations. None was required. What she told him before, that she was arrested because the cops wanted to squeeze her for information, was the truth. In politics it looked bad, anytime you had to explain something in politics it was bad. And if it had been anybody else on the face of this earth except Liz and his now-deceased parents, it would give him pause. But it was Liz. And the only pause that bit of news was giving him was the anguish in knowing that if he were to resign, Liz would blame herself.

  He went into the study and closed the door. For he had decisions to make. And just as Dex had said, no matter how he sliced it, it was going to be a bad slice.

  EIGHTEEN

  The press room at City Hall was so packed that there was not even standing room left. Hamp had already sent word around the press corps that the mayor would probably resign to avoid a scandal, and Hamp would make himself available to answer any questions the press may have afterwards. The excitement in the room, then, was palpable enough. When Jason finally emerged from out of the back into the briefing room, hand in hand with Liz, and with Carl and Dexter behind them, bulbs flashed, hands were being raised and questions being thrown by reporters eager to be the first, and Jason would have been lucky to get a word in edgewise.

  Until he announced he had a prepared statement, and the room went silent.

  “I know you expect news this afternoon. I know Hamilton Morgan has suggested all sorts of rumors about me and my future as your mayor. I have called this press conference to put all of those questions to rest. I’ll be brief. I will not answer any questions, and this will be the last I have to say about this.” He squeezed Liz’s hand as he spoke. Liz looked at him and him alone.

  “I have asked Elizabeth Morgan to be my wife, and she has graciously accepted.” The press room erupted, with so many questions that only one of them was clear: “When?” more than a few reporters asked.

  “We will be married on a date and at a time of our choosing,” Jason said to the dissatisfaction of the press. “But that’s not why I’m here,” he went on. “That’s my business.

  I’m here because on yesterday I received a beforehand notice that Hamp Morgan has plans to go public with what he says is damning evidence about my wife.” The reporters again went ballistic. “Wife? Did you say wife? Did you marry her already? Are you guys already married? I thought you said you just asked her to marry you.

  Does Hamp know?”

  Jason had to quickly hold up his hand. “Excuse me,” he said, “no, we’re not married yet.

  I misspoke. What I was saying was that Hamp claims to have evidence that he thinks would ruin Liz Morgan, and thereby destroy me. Well, it’s a pack of lies like everything else Hamp has presented to you guys, that’s first. Secondly, I don’t give a damn. He can present evidence that declares my wife to be an alien from another planet and I still wouldn’t give a damn. I am marrying her and I don’t care what Hamp’s evidence, and I use that term advisedly, shows. Hamp’s request to me, according to these same sources, is that I resign as mayor so that it will clear the field for his own ascension as leader of our beloved city. That’s the kind of man we’re dealing with here. Well, it goes without saying that I think the last person on earth who should be mayor of this city is Hamp Morgan. But that’s not my call.

  That’s for the good citizens of Jacksonville to decide.

  But one thing I will say,” Jason said, and then looked squarely in the camera: “If it was all about me, I’d say bring it on, Hamp. This mayor’s office is one office you cannot buy.

  You’re going to have to earn it. And you’re going to have to go through me first to get there.” Then he paused. “But it’s not all about me. It’s about the woman I love. That’s what it will always be about for me. Politics can be a dirty game. Hamilton Morgan just made it ev
en dirtier. My wife, my soon-to-be wife, is too good for this. I won’t allow anyone to drag her good name through the mud so that I can win an election. Never.” He held Liz’s hand tighter. “Effective at the end of this week, I will resign my position as mayor of this great city.”

  And Jason, with Liz by his side, left the room just as the press erupted.

  ***

  Late that same evening, Jason and Liz felt as if a load had been lifted. They were in the backyard at Jason’s home, grilling steaks and potatoes and playing cards on the patio table.

  They felt free and didn’t care if the entire city thought they were mad. Wasn’t going to answer any of Hamp’s allegations? How could he take a hit like this and not at least give a counterpoint? That was the talk around town, and among Jason’s own staff. But he made it clear. “Everybody doesn’t handle situations the same way, Carl,” he had told his campaign manager. “Maybe you would handle this differently, fine. But you aren’t me, and I will handle it the way I see fit. This is the way I see fit.”

  And Jason meant it. He, in fact, had instructed his staff to stay clear of him. They’d meet tomorrow and discuss the future then. But tonight, he made clear, belonged to Liz.

  And the evening went along with a soft, melodic feel to it. And by the time the sun was going down in the wind-blown trees across the lake, Jason and Liz found themselves on the patio lounger, filled to the brim with steak and potatoes, and hugged together in a closeness that even a fly couldn’t penetrate. The peacefulness, the inner joy, the serenity of finally accepting their fate, their love, enraptured them.

  That was why, when the doorbell chimed, or when the phone began to ring, they ignored it all. This was their moment, they felt, and they didn’t want to share it with the outside world.

  At first it seemed like a fool’s strategy, as whoever was trying to get in touch with them would not let up. But soon their strategy worked and the quietness returned. And not long after Liz fell asleep in Jason’s arms.

  For hours he just sat there, watching her, running his fingers through her soft, short hair, caressing her arms, her neck, her face. And there was no-one on the face of this earth that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, than Elizabeth. His Liz.