Tommy Gabrini 4: Dapper Tom Begin Again (8 page)

“Well
Elizabeth,” Cassie said, as she placed her arm around Liz’s small waist, “are
you going to stay overnight too?”

“I
am, if that’s okay.”

“Of
course it’s okay!” Cassie responded.

“I
have to go over to my bureau in Dubai, so Chelse and I will fly out of here
together.”

“She
says you’re going to Dubai to audit her.
 
I said no way.
 
Right?”

“Wrong,”
Liz said with a smile.
 
She would laugh
and joke with the best of them, but Tommy could see already that when it came
to business, she didn’t play.
 
“Her
bureau will most definitely be audited while I’m there.
 
I’ve got to make sure your generous daughter
isn’t letting the inmates run the asylum, as I believe she is.”

“I
respect my reporters,” Chelsey said.
 
“I
give them wide latitude.”

“And
they take it, and take it, and take it.
 
I’m going to remind them that Chelse is their bureau chief, but
ultimately they work for me.
 
And I’m not
Chelse.
 
I’ll fire a bitch.”

Cassie
laughed again.
 
She seemed as enamored
with Liz as Tommy was.
 
“You have always
been too hard, dear.
 
Even when you were
little.
 
You can learn something from
Chelse.”

Although
Liz respectfully said nothing, her expressive eyes said everything to
Tommy.
 
She appeared to be nearing the
end of her rope with Chelsey and her laidback style.

“I
need to check on the grills,” Rodney said suddenly, and brushed past Cassie and
Liz.

“Well
damn,” Liz said as he brushed past her.
 
She was the only one, it seemed to Tommy, who was calling him out on his
rudeness.

But
Cassie continued to smile, although Tommy could see her hurt.
 
“He’s just overtired,” she said, took Chelsey
by one arm, and Liz by the other one.
 
“Let’s go out back too.
 
That’s
where the real food is.
 
Hungry, dear?”
she asked Chelsey as they headed toward the patio.

Gemma
placed her arm on Sal’s.
 
“Let’s go,
bud,” she said.
 
“I may have to referee.”

But
Sal frowned.
 
“What are you talking?
 
Why would you need to referee?”

“Dad and
Chelse do not get along,” Gemma explained.
 
“They never have, they never will.
 
I need to referee.”
 
Then she
looked at Tommy.
 
“Coming too?”

“I’m
going to make some phone calls,” he said, “but then I’ll be there.”

“Use
Dad’s office,” Gemma insisted, as she and Sal followed the others.

Tommy
stood there, staring at the gorgeous back of that gorgeous girl on Cassie’s
arm.
 
Liz Logan.
 
She was so fine, with that juicy, tight ass,
that his dick was throbbing just looking at her.
 
He had to have her.
 
He was stunned at how badly.

Later
that evening, after everybody had eaten and Tommy had completed another round
of phone calls, he sat out on the patio with drink in hand, crossed his legs,
and watched Liz and Chelsey, Sal and Gemma, and a large group of other partiers
dancing a dance they called the electric slide.
 
And they were dancing in unison.
 
It was old school all the way, and Tommy found it amusing.
 
He remembered attending parties with lady
friends in the nineties where people were doing that very same dance.
 
They would line up, lean forward, lean back,
and do the dance.
 
The more things
changed, the more they stayed the same.
 
The circle of life, he thought, and sipped his wine.

Sal
and Gemma, both of whom were natural dancers, were having the time of their
lives.
 
Rodney was near the back of the
backyard, talking with a group of men his age, but he still seemed to be in a
nasty mood, which confounded Tommy.
 
His
oldest daughter was home, yet he seemed upset that she had been away so long.
She was home.
 
Shouldn’t that be the
issue now?

“Too
good to dance, are you?”

Tommy
looked over and saw Liz plopping down in the chair across from his.
 
She looked exhausted.
 

“Not
too good,” Tommy replied.
 
“Not good
enough.”

She
smiled and considered him.
 
“White boy
can’t dance?”

Tommy
nodded.
 
“Not even a little bit.”

“Your
brother certainly can.
 
What’s your
excuse?”

“Two
left feet.”

Liz
glanced down at his feet.
 
They were clad
in very expensive, very
long
shoes.
 
Ferragamos if she had to venture
a guess.
 
The man definitely had style.

“So
what’s the name of your magazine?”
 
Tommy
asked her.
 
“Have I heard of it?”

Liz
looked back up at him.
 
“It’s called
Kutana,” she said.
 
“If you like wars and
international affairs, you probably heard of it.
 
If you despise wars and international
affairs, you probably don’t know it from jack.”

Tommy
looked at her.
 
“Wars and politics hun?”

Liz
smiled. “You seem surprised.
 
You thought
it was a black power magazine, didn’t you?”

“Not
black power.
 
But I must confess I did
think it would be geared toward the African-American community specifically.”

“Thank-you
for you honesty,” Liz said.
 
“Because
that’s the way it is.
 
Most people see a
black woman at the helm of a magazine and
urban
vibe
becomes their default position.
 
But no, we do not compete with Ebony and Jet.
 
Our competitors are more like
US News and World Report
, the
Wall Street Journal
, and
The Times of London
, to name a few.”

“Thus
your bureau in Dubai?”

“Right.
 
And we have one in London and South Africa
too.
 
We cover the globe, not the inner
city.”

“More
online than not?”

“That’s
right.”

Tommy
was impressed.
 
He considered her.
 
“It must be disheartening when people try to
limit your reach with such assumptions.”

“Disheartening?”
Liz asked, astounded he would think such a thing.
 
“More like the best motivator money can’t
buy!”

Tommy
laughed.
 

“They
try to limit my reach,” Liz went on, “the sky becomes my limit!
 
No, let them continue to underestimate
me.
 
It only makes me more determined to
reach my goal. ”

Tommy
could see her dedication.
 
“Are you there
yet?” he asked her.

Liz’s
bravado remained, but he could see some weariness in her big, brown eyes.
 
“It’s been tough, I can’t even lie.
 
Many times I have to battle perceptions
before I can even get up to bat.
 
And
many days, even after I get up to bat, I strike out.”
 
Then she smiled and nodded.
 
“But I have a good team.
 
I’ll get there.”

“I’m
sure you will,” Tommy said.
 
He raised
his glass.
 
“Enjoy the rise.”

Liz
smiled and checked him out as he took a sip from his drink.
 
Yup, she decided.
 
He’s a classy one.
 
Boy got class.

Then
a new song blared over the backyard stereo.
 
Cheryl Lynn singing
Got To Be Real
.
 
“That’s my song!” Liz declared as she jumped
up, along with half the partiers, and started singing and dancing to Cheryl
Lynn’s beautifully sung, upbeat tune:

“What you find-ah

What you feel-now

What you know-a

To be real!”

Men
began showing up seemingly out of the woodwork and surrounded Liz as she danced.
 
Some were so awful that Carlton from
Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
could out-dance
them.
 
Tommy laughed as they tried to
dance and tried even harder to jockey for position beside Liz.
 
She was, without question, the queen of this
backyard funfest.
 
But Liz just wanted to
dance.
 
And she danced as hard as Cheryl
Lynn was singing:

“You know that your love is my love

My love is your love

Our love is here to stay a-a!”

But
the men wouldn’t let up.
 
They wanted to
dance with her exclusively, not as a group.
 
Because they knew it too.
 
She was dancing with each and every one of
them, and none of them all at once.
 
She
was a pro, Tommy thought as he watched her, and her gift was not in seduction,
but in self-possession.
 
She was just
being herself, and it was in her
being
,
not in what she was doing, that was turning those men on.
 

Tommy
sat back and enjoyed the view.
 
He
enjoyed her enjoyment.
 
But as he watched
her cavort around that backyard with those men, it turned serious for him.
 
Here was a woman he could respect, he
thought.
 
She had her challenges, she
already admitted that running an international magazine was tough enough, but
she didn’t let it get her down.
 
She was
moving and dancing as if she couldn’t have a better time.
 
She saw that those men were jockeying for
position beside her, but she kept on dancing.
 
They had an agenda.
 
Each one
wanted her to stop focusing on the other guy in the dance group, and turn her
complete attention to him.
 
And only
him.
 
But they could forget that too,
Tommy thought.
 
She was his.
 
He knew it like he knew his name.
 

But
as soon as he thought such a thought, alarm bells rang in his head.
 
What in the world was he thinking?
 
She was
his
?
 
Was he kidding?
 
He wasn’t going through that fire again!
 
He was hitting and running these days, he
wasn’t about to stick around!
 
Not for
her.
 
Not for any woman.
 
He wanted her physically, just as every
blue-bloodied man in that backyard wanted her, but he also knew an ass like
hers did not come cheap.
 
As he watched
that ass bounce around as she danced around, he knew nobody was going to play
her cheap.
 
She might give him some,
she’d already shown some interest in that direction, but it was going to cost
him.
 
It was going to cost him,
emotionally, a pretty penny.
 
Problem
was, he was emotionally bankrupt.
 
He
didn’t have it to give.
 
He wasn’t paying
that price ever again.
 

He
therefore got up before he lost himself over a piece of ass once more, and went
inside the house.
 

Liz
was still dancing, and singing, and enjoying even the guys that surrounded
her.
 
But when she looked over to see if
Tommy was enjoying the fun too, she was surprised to see that he had gone.
 

That
was a bit of a letdown, if she’d admit it.
 
Not that she was interested in yet another smooth talking pretty boy who
would wind and dine her, would wham and bam her, and then leave her high and
dry.
 
But he was, at least for now, a
little more interesting than anybody else.

But
oh well, she thought, as she twirled around with her finger pointing
skyward.
 
His loss.
 

And
she continued to dance, and sing, and laugh.

Tommy
was once again in Rodney’s office making yet another round of business calls,
including one to his pilot to ready the plane.
 
His belly was full and his legs were crossed, and he was getting updates
on various fronts.
 
But just as he ended
the call with his pilot, and was about to return a call to his CFO, he began
hearing rising, angry voices.
 
Concerned
about Sal and Gemma, he immediately stood up with smartphone in hand, and
walked from behind the desk and out of the office.

Just
as he slid open the double oak doors that led into the living room, Chelsey and
Rodney were standing toe to toe.
 
Cassie
was standing beside Rodney, and Liz was standing beside Chelse.
 
Sal and Gemma were in the room too, standing
together as if this was a two-person fight and they were content to stay out of
it, but that seemed unlikely.

“Over
and over,” Rodney was saying with fire in his voice.
 
“Time and time again!
 
Disappointment after disappointment!
 
And now you’re here, on this special day?”

“If
you don’t want me here just say the word,” Chelsey said firmly.
 
“I can leave.”

“Then
leave,
gotdammit
!” Rodney shot
back.
 
“Nobody asked you to come in the
first place!”

“Roddy,”
Cassie said as she touched her husband’s arm.

But
Rodney wasn’t having it. He snatched away.
 
His entire focus was on Chelse.
 
“Four years you stayed away from us.
 
Four long years!
   
You didn’t
hurt me.
 
You could have stayed away four
more for all I cared.
 
But your
mother.
 
The way you stayed away from
her.
 
That’s unconscionable.
 
That’s the real offense.
 
For years your mother invited you to
everything when we all told her to forget it.
 
You were a lost cause.
 
But she
invited you anyway.
 
Over and over.
 
And then she’d get excited about your coming,
and you never showed up.
 
Not ever!”

Tommy
could see a change in Chelsey’s eyes.
 
She was still defiance, but a slither of regret was there too.

“And
then, out of the blue, you’re back,” Rodney continued.
 
“And because you graced us with your presence
we’re supposed to do belly flops and cartwheels?
 
You show up and we’re supposed to forget all
of those
I’m coming
and then
I can’t come
salutations as if they
never occurred?
 
To hell with you!”

Tommy
stared at Chelsey.
 
Those last four words
hit her hard, he could see it in her eyes.
 
But she held her ground.

“I’m
the bureau chief in a region of this world that’s a war zone.
 
Every time I told Ma I was coming, I was
coming.
 
But events dictate my life, not
the other way around, and Ma knows that.
 
If I could have made it those other times I would
 
have made it.
 
But I couldn’t!”

“So
you decide to just drop in?”

“I
didn’t want to get her hopes up again.
 
Because events might have prevented me again.”