Police Officer's Princess Page 15

  “One second, gentleman,” my dad says. He’s right. This isn’t going to take long.

  I grab him by the forearm and guide him into an empty conference room. How many conference rooms does he need?

  “What’s wrong with you, you can’t just—-”

  “What’s wrong with me? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

  “Watch your language, son!”

  “No, you watch your language. Your filthy mouth that whores me out to your clients’ daughters and granddaughters and tries to tell me which women are right for me and which aren’t.”

  My dad opens his mouth to speak.

  “Shut up!” I say. “It’s my turn to talk. You’ve talked enough. Now it’s time for you to listen.”

  I pause, feeling my upper teeth slide along my lowers.

  “I played your game for long enough. You’re done milking this cow. Through. That’s the first thing. And that’s bad enough! But you didn’t stop there. It wasn’t enough to tell me who I should be with, but now you go and tell me who I can’t be with…or more accurately you tell her. You pulled some bullshit surprise visit on a woman? And you did it where she works? What’s wrong with you? Did you bring your goons with you too? Four guys trying to intimidate a girl who can barely reach the top shelf of the cupboard on a good day. You make me sick, and you need to back the fuck off. Stay out of my life!”

  “I’m sorry, son.”

  “Yeah you are sorry…a sorry old man who’s still bitter about what happened to him and now you’re taking it out on me! She’s gone dad! Nothing’s bringing her back. None of your stupid tricks or games is going to stop me either. I’m an adult. I’m a grown fucking man and I know what I want and I’m going to go fly back down to Vegas and get it and when I do I’m going to hold on tight with both hands. If you can’t appreciate that or understand that then I swear don’t ever talk to me again.”

  “Chance,-“

  “Don’t Chance me. I don’t want to hear anything from you. Nothing. Nothing until you speak to Violet first. You don’t talk to me until you apologize to her. TO…HER…FACE! You don’t pick up the damn phone like it’s a business meeting you can brush off in thirty seconds. You treat her with the respect she deserves. You schedule a meeting on her time and you tell her you’re sorry to her face and you mean it or we’re done. And speaking of done I’m fucking done here. Enjoy your meeting. I hope you make another gazillion dollars you greedy asshole.”

  I turn and push open the door with both hands. I walk back through the lobby and right into the elevator. Of course the elevator’s waiting. I jammed it with my nightstick the second it opened.

  I knew this wasn’t going to take long and I was right.

  But how long this really takes is another matter. I’m not one to hold grudges so if my dad apologizes then we’re all good.

  But if he doesn’t…then this will last forever.

  No one or nothing will come between me and the woman I’m falling in love with.

  Nothing.

  CHAPTER 34

  Violet

  Two days later

  I’m nervous as I sit in the back of the Starbucks. I clutch my coffee as I feel my legs shake. The heater’s on, but it doesn’t matter. I feel chilled to the bone.

  When Governor Dawson called me and told me he wanted to meet at a time and place convenient for me I didn’t know what to say. It’s not like I have an office or much of a schedule outside work and spending time with Charlotte and Chance.

  And I know Chance was the reason this was happening, yet he didn’t want to talk about it. All he said is we can discuss his dad if and when his dad makes amends. True amends that I personally feel are acceptable.

  The last thing I ever wanted to do was to come between a father and his son but here I am. There’s no turning back now.

  The door opens at the front of the store and I see a man enter right at the agreed time. He’s an older man, but he doesn’t look like Chance’s dad. I look through the glass window next to me and see the RTC public bus pull away and then I know for sure it’s not Chance’s dad. I giggle a bit at the thought of such a powerful man riding the bus. That would be the day.

  The idea of it all loosens me up a bit, but not much. I go back to staring at the door and looking out the window.

  As my eyes alternate between the two I notice the man is walking closer towards me.

  Oh my god, is he here to meet an escort? I’ve heard sometimes they choose the strangest places. If he asks me something inappropriate it’s going to take a lot not to throw this coffee right…on…his…U.C.L.A. sweater.

  “Mister Dawson?”

  “Please. Call me Benedict.” I’m so stunned I’m not quite sure if I heard him right. Did he say call me Benedict or I’ve been a dick?

  “Violet,” I say.

  “Of course,” he says. “Nice to see you again. Sorry our earlier run-in at the casino was the way that it was.”

  “It’s okay,” I say.

  “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “Oh. Sorry. Yes, sure,” I say.

  I sit back down and he’s sitting across from me. His eyes look tired. He looks a bit sad actually. I imagine it’s because Chance said something to him, but the deeper I look it’s clearly more than that. He’s carrying something with him. He reminds me of someone who’s lost something. I immediately wonder if he’s lost his way working as a politician. I’ve read and watched documentaries where famous people started from humble roots wanting to serve their country in Washington, but when presented with power and wealth and all the furnishing a job in government can provide they sometimes get sidetracked. Before you know it they’re no longer working for the people, they’re working for special interests that line their pockets. I don’t know too much about politics and how it all works, but I wonder if that’s happened to Mister Dawson.

  I should stop putting stories together in my head and just let him speak. It’s just that it’s taking him so long to get started.

  “I’m not really sure where to begin,” he says.

  His hands are extended on the table, one on top of the other. He’s not fidgety, but he’s clearly not comfortable either.

  “It’s just that I haven’t had a conversation like this in a very long time, and never outside the family.”

  “We don’t have to talk,” I say. I realize that’s the whole point of his coming here and am not really sure what to say next. “We can go for a walk.” That made no sense. What in the world am I thinking?

  “No thank you. This needs to happen. Not only for me to you, but for me to me. I think it will be good for the both of us.”

  I’m not sure where he’s going with this but I remove my hands from my coffee, and slide it to the side. I don’t want anything in-between us. I don’t want any barriers. I want whatever is about to happen and be said to be open.

  I place my hands on the edge of the seat and grip tight, ready for where this ride is about to take me.

  “When I was about your age I met Chance’s mother not too far from here. I was on vacation for the weekend with some friends and after a day of gambling and swimming out at Lake Mead I wandered off by myself to get something to eat. On the way back to the hotel I saw a young woman walking down the street, three blocks from here.”

  He pauses and swallows.

  “I stopped her and asked her her name. Claudia Dixon, she told me. Exactly a year to the day later she’d have a new name. Claudia Dawson.”

  Mister Dawson pauses and looks out the window. I seem him remembering, before he gathers himself and turns his head back towards me.

  “I was a young nobody and she was dealing cards on The Strip. Somehow, and to this day I still have no idea how, I convinced her to come out to California and be with me. I was the luckiest man ever to come to this town because she said yes, and a few years after we got settled in L.A. Chance came along.”

  He smiles.

  “In the meantime I was running errands for one of t
he political parties so we’d have a little extra money. Harmony was due to be born soon, so we wanted to have enough money to get a bigger apartment if we could. Well, one afternoon I left my day job working on the docks of Long Beach and went to run my errands for one of the politicians. No big deal except apparently what I was delivering was a note from that politician to his party letting them know he wouldn’t be seeking reelection. I drop off the note at the party headquarters and before I’m even out the door the guy’s got it opened and has read through it real quick. He asks me if I’ve got plans for the next couple years and what I do for a living. Fifteen minutes later he’s covered the whiteboard in his office with all kinds of numbers, graphs, and charts and he’s got it all laid out just how they can market me around my blue collar roots working the docks, and with the incumbent endorsing me I’d be a shoe-in for the victory.”

  He exhales a bit of a laugh.

  “Well, it was far from a shoe-in, but somehow they convinced enough people I was right for the job. Personally I think the voters connected with Claudia, but that’s another story. She was always my good luck charm.”

  He smiles.

  “A few years after Harmony came along Claudia got restless. She wanted to go back to work and one day, after seeing an ad in the newspaper, she decided she wants to be an L.A. cop. Part of me thinks she’s just looking to get out of the house after raising the kids for so long, but another part of me knows if she decides she’s going to do something she sees it through. It’s a blessing for sure, but also a bit of a curse.”

  He looks back outside and I see that sorrow fill his eyes again. His lower lip trembles slightly before stopping. He turns back towards me and I can see his eyes watering.

  “See the thing is,” he begins, his voice cracking, “it was her day off, but she wanted to help out her fellow officers. By the time they arrived on the scene the negotiations had broken down and it was already a shootout. The odds were already bad enough, but when the house behind them also opened fire they were sitting ducks.”

  The tears roll down his face, and my hands come off my seat. I place them on top of his and feel them shaking up and down.

  He takes a deep breath and pulls himself together as best he can. He’s known for being able to maintain his tough outer shell and the demeanor that goes with it, even under the most trying of times, but this time he just can’t quite do it. I can see he’s still reliving that moment and as much as I don’t like seeing him in pain I can’t deny that it finally does make him seem more human. I guess he’s spent years practicing in order to become the man he is today…the cold, calculated man we see in front of the TV cameras. He’s gotten good at it over the course of all these years, but the moment we’re sharing right here and right now is too real, too true, and too powerful to just flip a switch and snap out of.

  “Violet, I’m truly sorry for what I did. It’s not that I don’t want you to see my son. The truth is I don’t want anybody to see my son. That’s why I fixed him up with those bimbos and girls I knew he would never be attracted to. He and I have both lost a spouse, but he’s lost his spouse and his mother. I don’t want him to lose another woman in his life. I don’t want that for him. I don’t want that for me. And I certainly don’t want that for Charlotte. It was nothing against you. Really. Did I try and think what your doubts might be and use those against you when I came to speak with you? I did. It was evil and I apologize. I really do. But here’s the thing I can’t get past.”

  He starts to laugh and his eyes brighten again.

  “I may have been gone a lot when you kids were…well…kids, but I was home enough. And through the window I watched and I saw you all playing and having a great time and just enjoying being young. And even through that glass I could see clear as day what Chance couldn’t see right in front of his face. You loved him. You were only kids, and it was a different kind of love, but I could see how you were with him and how clueless he was about you. I guess that’s just how boys are. I told Claudia if he ever opened his eyes for one second he’d see it. But back then he was too busy bouncing balls, and throwing balls, and hitting balls, and all those other sports he played. But now he’s older and he sees what his mother and I saw a long, long time ago.”

  He smiles and his head turns as he looks at me in a way I can only call approvingly.

  “You two are meant for each other, and I will never do anything to stop you two from being in love. You have my blessing, my apology, and from here on out my utmost support. There’s no one in the world that I’d rather see my boy with…than you.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Chance

  Three weeks later

  “Officer Dawson, you have a call holding on line four.”

  I look up from my desk and see Officer Sanchez’s head sticking inside my door.

  “You snuck up on me Sanchez,” I say to her. “I need to get back out there on the street. All the paperwork and being behind a desk is making me soft.”

  “It’s not you, Dawson. It’s me. I used to sneak up on my brothers all the time when we were kids. That’s why I’m Sneaky Sanchez.”

  “Thanks, Sanchez,” I say.

  She gives me a wink and her head disappears. She’s one of my favorite officers here at the station. She outworks most of the men and I’ve never heard a single complaint out of her in all my years here.

  “Dawson,” I say, into the receiver.

  “Dawwwwson, it’s Vic. What’s happening, buddy?”

  “Vic, my man!” I say.

  I lean back in my chair and just before I exhale hard I move the receiver away from my mouth. I’ve been dreading telling Vic what’s going on, and over the phone definitely isn’t the best way to go about it.

  On the one hand I should tell him. I feel like he has a right to know. Plus he’s my best friend since forever, and he’s Violet’s brother. He’s going to find out sooner or later and I’d rather it be sooner so we can get past any weirdness and begin sharing our happiness with him.

  We’re not exactly sneaking around right now, but also we’re not exactly sending out postcards with one of those kissing booth pictures on the front to let everyone know that we’re an item.

  “Looked at your calendar lately?” he asks.

  “Try not to. Always more things to do than I have days for.”

  “I know the feeling, but we’ve got something coming up that transcends police work. Bigger than you and me.”

  “Oh yeah,” I say. What is he up to?

  “Don’t tell me the ladies at the station haven’t already started talking about it.”

  “Dude, you’re beating around the bush here. What’s the four one one?” I ask, in reference to four one one being dialed back in the day to get information.

  “Valentine’s Day, man. Come on. Get with it. We’re both single and I figured it would be a good time to have a weekend in Vegas. Just the two of us…and whatever ladies we might happen upon.”

  “I don’t know, man,” I say.

  “Come on. We can even put on our uniforms if we have to. You know no lady can resist that.”

  “Well, we have to remember in Vegas they won’t think we’re cops.”

  “What do you mean? We’ll have our uniforms on. Everyone recognizes an officer in uniform.”

  “They’ll think we’re strippers headed to a bachelorette party.”

  “Even better! We can get some of those party cop uniforms and see where the night takes us.”

  “Well I’m glad you’re not planning on risking your career with your real uniform on.” I laugh.

  The idea is kind of funny, but the whole thing is just way too fishy. This isn’t the kind of thing Vic would suggest. Hanging out on Valentine’s Day to cheer me up? Yeah, he would do that for sure. That’s why he’s my best friend. But dressing up as cops and fake patrolling the streets of Vegas for laughs and to meet girls? That’s totally out of character for him. Something’s not right here.

  In our line of work there’s
this little thing called entrapment. It’s not little actually. It’s a big deal. When it comes to matters like this the laws of entrapment don’t apply. If Vic can set a trap and I fall into it I’m guilty no matter what.

  But why would he be putting an offer like this on the table? Is he really trying that hard to cheer me up, or did he find out about his sister and I?

  “Come on! It’ll be fun. Whaddaya say?”

  “I say it could be fun, but I’m out. You know how things are with me.”

  “How are things with you?” he asks. His question was way too fast, way too direct, and way too biting. His interrogation techniques are slipping, or he wants me to know that he’s onto something.