“It’s illegal for me to put evidence before the jury that I know, for a fact, isn’t true.”
“But you don’t have to say a word! Just put me on the stand.”
But Gemma knew that would be a mistake. Like most of the criminals she’d defended, Kenny was convinced he could con the jury. He was convinced that if he only got on the stand, and smiled charmingly, the jury would overlook the evidence and go along with his lies. In her experience such a strategy often backfired, but he was convinced he could pull it off. “If I put you on the stand,” she said, “you realize that all of your prior bad acts will be able to be introduced by the prosecution?”
“What prior bad acts?” Kenny asked. “I don’t have any prior bad acts!”
Lie after lie this guy was willing to tell. “Your previous manslaughter conviction. Remember that bad act?”
Kenny had forgotten about that. “I was just a kid then!”
“Your previous sexual assault conviction?”
Kenny said nothing.
But Gemma did. “Your previous battery charges? Remember those acts as well? All of that will be introduced in front of the jury. You can talk all day on that stand, but your past will speak far louder than any words you can say.”
Kenny frowned and ran his hand across his bald head.
Gemma looked at him. He was a handsome young black male who probably once was a good kid with a lot of hope and promise in his life. He probably never dreamed to find himself here, in the jaws of a criminal justice system that treated people who looked like him, not as temporary visitors, but permanent residents.
“I know you wish you weren’t in this position,” Gemma said. “I wish to God you weren’t, either. But you are. And you have got to face what’s ahead of you. If you’re innocent, then you are absolutely right to fight this thing to the bitter end. And I’ll fight for you. But if you aren’t innocent, Kenny, don’t be a fool. Take the plea deal. Do your five years, maybe get your GED while you’re locked up. When you get out, you’ll still be a young man and still be able to turn your life completely around. That’s the best advice I can give to you.”
“But five years,” Kenny said with a frown. But it was the first time she even heard him consider the plea.
“Yes,” Gemma said. “If you take the deal, you will have to serve five years.”
“But what if we can beat this rap? What if we do this right and beat this rap?”
“If you’re innocent, yes, we can possibly beat it. And even that’s no guarantee. But we stand a chance. But if you aren’t innocent, there’s no way. I’m sorry but, given the evidence, there’s no way.”
But she knew he wasn’t going to go for it. He killed a man, and he knew he did, but he felt the guy deserved it so he didn’t want to serve any hard time at all. She once asked him to put himself in the shoes of the poor man he murdered, for human decency sake, but he looked at her as if she was insane.
Then Kenny stood as if his mind was made up. Gemma knew that he was, in effect, giving up any shot he had at ever seeing the light of day again. If he was convicted, the judge, she was certain, was going to throw the book at him. Life in prison, was her bet.
And true to form, Kenny turned defensive again, like a man who knew he had done wrong, but dreaded facing up to it. “Whatever man, I’m out,” he said, frowning. Then he turned back to Gemma and put his finger in her face. “Your ass better defend me better!” he said. “Cause I’m not doing hard time, you hear me? I don’t care what shit I did, I’m not doing hard time ever again! You hear me?”
Although Kenny’s provocative action caused the jailer, who was behind the glass, to look their way, Gemma didn’t flinch. “I hear you,” she said. “Now you hear me. If you don’t remove your finger out of my face, I’ll remove it for you. And when I do, you won’t be getting it back.”
Kenny stared at her.
The jailer pressed the button. “Everything all right, Miss Jones?” he asked her.
“Is everything all right, Kenny?” Gemma asked her client.
Kenny hesitated, then removed his finger. “Yeah,” he said to the jailer, but refused to take his eyes off of Gemma. “Everything’s fine. Just get me out of here.”
When he left, Gemma exhaled. She hated criminal law. She hated it with a passion. But as she grabbed her briefcase and headed out of the courtroom, she had to remind herself that she had worked out the best deal he was ever likely to get, given the evidence against him. It wasn’t her fault if he still believed he could game the system. But she felt like a failure anyway.
In court, all cell phones had to be turned off. Now she had turned hers back on, to read her messages, hoping to find a message by one person in particular. She stood still in the atrium and quickly scanned the messages. She had many, but none from that particular one. Then she frowned. Even though she wanted to hear from Sal, she knew he was on business in New Jersey and had already told her he would get back to her in a few days.
Their relationship was still new, and it was still long-distance since he lived in Seattle and she lived here in Vegas, but that didn’t stop her from feeling lonely when he wasn’t around. Which only made her feel worse. Why was she allowing herself to fall into that can’t live without you despair? She wasn’t a needy person before she met Sal, and she wasn’t going to become needy now. She therefore began texting responses to the messages she did have, and headed down the stairs.
Marshall Denning, an attorney who first met her when they both attended a lawyers convention, came out of the shadows of a nook along the atrium. He continued to watch her. He continued to be impressed with her as she carried her elegant, beautiful black body down those stairs as if she was as carefree as a feather, floating on air.
TWO
Trina Gabrini stopped sipping her drink and waved gaily as Gemma made her way around tables inside the crowded restaurant.
They hugged when they met, and Gemma began sitting down. “You can pick’em, Tree,” she said with a smile as she sat across from her friend and business partner. “I’ve never been to this place before in my life.”
“Me neither,” Trina admitted. “But I didn’t want you to have to drive too far from the courthouse. You said you’re back in court this afternoon.”
“That I am,” Gemma said. The waiter came up, Gemma placed her lunch and drink order, and then the waiter left.
“Same case?” Trina asked.
“Yep. Afternoon session.”
“From that look on your face, it didn’t go well this morning.”
“Not at all. The prosecution offered him a great plea deal. Five years for killing a man. But he won’t take it. He insists he’s innocent.”
“Is he?”
Gemma gave Trina a look something harsh. Trina laughed.
“I’m trying the case as best I can,” Gemma went on. “Given what I have to work with. But in his eyes I’m blowing it left and right. So we’ll see.”
“Evidence strong?”
“Overwhelming, girl. I’m stunned the prosecution is even offering a deal. But they want a conviction and doesn’t want to take any chances. But anyway, let’s talk about something else. I’ve got to deal with that again this afternoon.”
When the waiter returned, with Gemma’s soda, he gave her an extra smile, and left again.
Trina smiled too, and shook her head. “These men need to give it a rest. You’re a gorgeous girl, but my goodness, they act as if they’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.”
“Yeah, right,” Gemma said. Trina was the beautiful one, with that awesome combination of dark-brown skin and big, hazel eyes. “When Sal first saw me he didn’t know what to make of me.”
“That’s because Sal can be a gotdamn fool sometimes,” Trina said bluntly. Gemma laughed. “Especially if you saw some of those women he was running with.”
“You wouldn’t call them gorgeous, Tree?”
“They looked all right, I’ll give’em that. They were all blondes because that’s all
he wanted. But they looked gangster, Gem, I’m serious.” Gemma laughed again. “They had tattoos and piercings and one of them had a Mohawk. A blonde Mohawk, I kid you not. Sal didn’t know what to make of you because he was so far up the asses of those biker chicks that he wouldn’t know sophistication if it bit him in the butt.”
Gemma shook her head. “I don’t know about the sophistication part, but I’m certainly no biker chick.”
“So,” Trina said, anxious to find out. “Heard from Sal?”
Gemma didn’t immediately respond. Mainly because she hated to admit it. “No,” she said. “Not at all.”
Although Trina was surprised to hear that, considering how much she knew Sal cared for Gemma, she didn’t show it. “Well you know how he is. He’s not the phone type anyway.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Trina looked at her. “What do you mean yeah, whatever?”
“I mean I’m not justifying that,” Gemma made clear. “I understand he’s away on business, I understand that. But he could have picked up a phone.”
“You act like it’s been weeks. It’s only been a few days since he left Vegas, Gemma, now come on.”
“I know what you’re saying, Tree, I know all that. But we haven’t been together all that long. I haven’t too long ago made up my mind that I could live with his . . . occasional business trips to handle messy business, or whatever he does on those trips. I thought he would . . .”
“He would what? Be so grateful you didn’t leave him that he should suddenly become your lap dog?”
Gemma was offended by that. “That’s not what I meant at all.”
“You’re sure? Because I’m telling you, girl, Sal and Reno are a lot alike. And neither one of them will play flunky to any woman.”
Gemma exhaled. Reno was Trina’s husband and Sal’s first cousin, and Tree was right. Reno and Sal were seriously alike in so many ways. She knew she could talk to Trina about this. Maybe nobody else but Trina. “It’s just so weird to me,” she admitted.
“What’s weird?” Trina asked. “Caring about a man the way you care about Sal?”
“Yeah. I’m not used to this, I’m not gonna lie. I find myself thinking about him all the time, Tree. I get out of court, turn back on my cell phone, and the only message I want to see is the one from him. Every single day. But there’s never one from him. Then I feel like a fool.”
Trina grabbed her hand. “Don’t. Please. It’s so normal what you’re going through that it’s not even funny.”
“You went through it with Reno?”
“Hell yeah,” Trina said. “Sometimes I still go through it. It’s love, Gem.”
“I don’t know about all of that,” Gemma said, politely removing her hand and taking a sip of her drink.
Trina stared at her. “You know you need to quit,” she said. “You know you love Sal. Don’t-Take-No-Gruff Gemma Jones is now officially in love and she may as well accept that hard, cold fact!”
Gemma smiled. “Whatever, Tree.”
“You can whatever me all you want. But you know it’s true. You don’t just like that man, you don’t just care for that man, you love that man. And to most people on the outside looking in, Sal Gabrini is a hard man. He is not an easy man to love. But you love him.”
Gemma’s cell phone began to ring. “I hear you talking,” she said with a smile, “but I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Trina laughed. “Yeah, right.”
Gemma looked at her Caller ID. Then she smiled, too, and immediately answered. “Hey,” she said.
“How are you?”
Trina mouthed, Is that him, and Gemma nodded.
“I’m good,” Gemma responded to Sal. “How are you?”
“I’m tired as a motherfuck,” Sal said over the phone. “But I’m wrapping things up. I hope to see you soon.”
“Same here.”
“Thought I’d give you a call.”
She started to say she appreciated that, but decided against it. She waited for him to continue.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“At some crowded restaurant I’ve never been to before. With Trina.”
“She can pick-em, can’t she?”
Gemma laughed and looked at Tree. “Yes, she can. So what about you? What’s your plan after you leave Jersey? Are you going to head back to Seattle, or what?”
“Head back to Seattle? What are you joking? Of course I’m not going back to Seattle! I haven’t seen you in nearly a week and you expect me to overlook that fact? I’m coming to see you before I go anywhere near Seattle.”
Gemma’s heart leaped with joy. “And when will that be?” She grimaced when she said it, hoping she didn’t sound too anxious.
“In another day or two,” Sal responded. “I’ll call you when I’m on the plane.”
“Sounds good.”
“You’re taking care of yourself, Gemma?”
“I am, yes.”
“You’d better be. I don’t want to come back and find some skinny chick on my hands. I can’t do anything with skin and bones.”
Gemma laughed. “I’m not exactly plus-sized, Sal, to begin with.”
“You’re small, all right, but you aren’t skin and bones. You’re close. But you’re not there yet. That’s my point. I don’t want you to get there.”
“So what are you saying? If I lose weight, it’s over between us?”
“If you lose weight, I’ll just have to pump it back on you. Pound it back in. Pound by pound by pound.”
Gemma laughed. “You’re incorrigible, you know that, right?”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, babe.”
Gemma was beginning to believe she wouldn’t either. “You take care of yourself, Salvatore.”
Trina smiled at the way she said that.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sal responded. “And likewise to you. Oh, yeah, how’s that court case going?”
Gemma hated to go there. “Not good.”
“Damn. Don’t tell me you’re losing another one?”
It sounded harsh, but that was what she loved about Sal. He didn’t sugarcoat the truth. “Yup,” she said. “Looks like.”
“And you’re telling me you still enjoy practicing law? Sure you don’t want to do something else?”
“I’m sure,” Gemma said. “For now.” She wasn’t sure in the least, but that was her decision to make alone. When it came to her career, she wasn’t giving a vote to him or anybody else.
“Maybe when I get to town we’ll do something, get your mind off of your cases and that bad run of luck you’ve been having lately.”
“I’d like that,” Gemma said genuinely. “How long will you be able to stay this time?”
“Not long. A couple days at most. Tommy’s on my ass already about being away from the office too much as it is, so it can’t be much longer than that.”
Gemma knew she had to take what she could get in a long distance relationship. “Understood,” she said.
“I know you do, baby. But don’t let me keep you. You keep taking good care of yourself. And make sure you keep that sweet oven, the wet one between those legs of yours, nice and warm for me.”
Gemma blushed with a combination of sensuality and shame, and glanced at Trina to make sure she didn’t hear that. From her expression, she didn’t. “I will,” Gemma promised.
“You’d better. Kiss Reno and Tree for me, and I’ll talk to you later. No, check that. Kiss Tree for me. Tell Reno to kiss my ass.”
Gemma laughed. Sal and Reno were close and loved each other dearly, but they absolutely did not get along.
“All right, Sal. Will do.”
And the phone went dead. Gemma clicked off too.
Trina looked at her, smiling. “So Sal phoned you after all. Or, as you call him, Salvatore.”
Gemma smiled. “I overdid it, didn’t I?”
“Of course! But that’s what women in love do.”
“If you don’t quit with that love nonsense!
We’re still testing the waters to see if we can swim together. That’s all this is about.”
“Sure, buddy. Whatever you say, buddy.”
Then their lunch orders arrived, and they began eating. Trina looked at Gemma, who was eating her burger so fast it was almost comical. Anything, she felt, than to discuss the real issue. “So,” she decided to ask, “when’s the big move?”
Gemma frowned. “What big move?”
“Your move to Seattle.”
Gemma considered her friend. Trina was a gorgeous girl, too, but most men would say she was no match for Gemma’s darker, more exotic beauty. Gemma would say differently. “Who says I’m moving to Seattle?” she asked.
“Oh, come on, Gem. One of you will have to move, and it can’t be Sal.”
“And why the hell not?”
“Commitments. The Gabrini Corporation is in Seattle.”
“So?”
“Diamante’s and a Taste of Southern, their two highly successful restaurants, are in Seattle.”
“So?”
“So what do you have that comes anywhere near that level of commitment? You have a law practice that’s barely paying the bills, and one-third partnership in a clothing store that’s barely breaking even. Now of those two scenarios, yours and Sal’s, who do you realistically expect to make that move?”
Gemma didn’t respond to that. Because it wasn’t that simple. No way was she packing up and moving to another state just because she loved some man. And yes, she inwardly knew she loved Sal very much. But he was a very complicated man. Even Trina knew that. Gemma still had to make certain, beyond any doubt, that she was willing to take on all of those complications. She loved him, and she wanted to be with him, but she still had to be certain. Only time, she felt, and how well Sal treated her, would determine what she would ultimately do.
“Besides,” Trina went on, “you don’t want to let that beautiful hunk of a man down, now do you? It’s okay now, this long distance love, but it’s going to get tired real soon. If l know Sal Luca, and I do, I know for a fact that he’s going to eventually expect you to keep that sweet, fresh oven, the wet one between those legs of yours, warm for him in Seattle too. Not just Vegas.”
Romancing Sal Gabrini 2: A Woman's Touch Page 2