William, the building manager, hurried to him as he entered. “Good evening, Mr. Gabrini,” he said jovially. “Welcome back, sir.”
“Any problems while I was gone?” Sal kept walking, with William following him stride for stride.
“Two evictions, sir. But nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“Good.” Although Sal lived in the penthouse apartment inside the building, he also owned the entire building.
“Is there anything you will need for tonight, sir?” William asked. “Anything or anybody I need to get for you, sir?”
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Sal said. “I’ll be fine.”
The manager smiled. “Very good, sir,” he said, and then he stopped even attempting to keep up with the fast walking Italian. He stopped walking altogether. Sal kept on going.
Sal made it upstairs eventually and entered his penthouse alone. He was met with pure quietness. But that never bothered him. At the end of his often hectic days, he loved to come home to silence. He welcomed it.
But by the time he poured himself a drink and made it upstairs to his bedroom, the welcome was already worn out. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about Gemma. He had many other matters on his mind, too, but Gemma dominated them all.
He sat his glass on the nightstand and laid back on his bed, his feet on the ground. He missed her. He missed her serious face, and her flawless dark skin, and that booming, heartfelt laugh of hers. And that body of hers? Forget about it. That body of hers was one for the record books as far as he was concerned.
But even with that slamming body, that wasn’t her real draw. She was. Her personality, the good, decent, woman of integrity that he knew her to be. He wondered about her, and why she, above any woman he’d ever met, so dominated his every thought. Was this how true love went? Was marriage next in the cards for them?
He wasn’t sure about that. Marriage? That would be the ultimate step for him. He wasn’t one of those guys who could commit himself to somebody so completely as to marry them, and then be willing to walk away from them. Especially if that woman was Gemma. Marriage would be the biggest step he ever took. The biggest move of his entire life. And he had to consider his life, mainly his lifestyle, and if bringing Gemma into that world was a great idea. So marriage? Not yet. He wasn’t at all sure if he was ready to make that kind of move.
But he missed Gemma.
He couldn’t deny how much he already missed her.
He missed her so much that he pulled out his cell phone and called her. It took a while, but she finally answered.
“What took you so long?” he asked her.
“I was sleep,” she said.
That was all right then.
“You made it home?” Gemma asked him.
“Yep, and I’m good for nothing.”
“Tired?”
“To the bone.”
“Ah, you’ll be okay.”
Sal smiled.
“You know what you did.”
“What did I do?”
“You left all of this money here.”
“Oh, that! It’s nothing.”
“Question is why did you leave so much, Sal? What’s it for?”
“Spending change. Whatever.”
“Sal, there’s two thousand dollars here.”
“Or whatever. Use it for whatever.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I want you to have it, all right? You won’t let me pay off your bills, and I understand why. I get that it’s too soon for that. But you’re my lady, Gem.”
“Most men give flowers, you know. Or candy.”
“Neither of which you care about,” Sal replied. “I know your house inside and out. Not a flower in sight. And that body? Excuse me but I know that body of yours inside and out too. You ain’t putting no candy in that.” Gemma laughed. “I’m not trying to take over. I’m just helping out. Showing my appreciation for you putting up with the likes of me.”
“Yeah, you are a handful,” Gemma said, and Sal smiled.
“Speak for yourself, sister. You’re no bed of roses yourself.”
Gemma laughed. “Whatever! But, for real, though, what can I say? Thank-you, Sal.”
“You said it all right there. You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Then he sighed. “I miss you so much.”
“Yeah. Same here. And you get some rest, Sal. I’ll see you when I see you.”
Although Sal said amen to that, and said his goodbyes, he still felt empty when he hung up from her. This long distance affair sucked, he thought, and was already getting to him.
TWELVE
Two days later, while Gemma was at the Barker Lounge inside the PaLargio having dinner with Reno and Trina, Marsh Denning, to her surprise, dropped by their table.
“I thought that was you,” he said with his best charming smile. Although Gemma smiled as if she was glad to see him, Reno and Trina were too curious to smile. Especially Reno.
“Hey. How are you?”
“Great now that I see a friendly face. This town is packed solid with faces, but not the friendliest I’ve ever been around.”
“Really?” Reno asked. “That’s news to me.”
“You must live here,” Marsh said.
“He does,” Trina said with a smile, attempting not to sound as rude as Reno did.
“Then you’re probably used to it. But a visitor like me? Not as inviting a town as you would think.”
“What are you talking about?” Reno wanted to know. “This is Vegas. Who doesn’t love Vegas?”
“Marsh,” Gemma said, smiling too, “I want you to meet Katrina Gabrini, and her husband Reno. Or you can call him Mr. Vegas, at least if you ask him.”
Reno had to laugh at that. Trina certainly did, and nodded her head in agreement with it.
“Ah,” Marsh said in a tone of recognition. “The great Reno Gabrini.” He extended his hand. “I’ve heard tons about you, sir.”
Reno shook his hand. “It’s all been fantastic, hasn’t it?” Reno asked this with a snide smile on his face.
“Ah, man,” Marsh replied. “I could overcrowd a landfill with the garbage, I mean, fantastic things I’ve been told about you.”
Reno laughed out loud. “Get a load of this guy,” he said to Tree and Gemma. “So what are you? A friend of Gemma’s? What?”
“We’re colleagues,” Gemma said. “Marsh hired me to consult on a case he’s been working. That’s why he’s in town.”
“On a court case, oh, okay. So where are you from?” Reno asked him.
“I’m from D.C.,” Marsh replied.
“Our nation’s capital,” Trina said. “That’s all right.”
“So what brings you here?” Reno asked. At the same restaurant Gemma just happened to be fraternizing, he wanted to add.
“I came down to this particular restaurant to have dinner, although I’m still waiting for a table. But I’m staying in this hotel.”
Trina looked at her husband. She could tell he was loving this. Then she looked at Marsh. “Enjoying your stay, at least here at the hotel, I hope?” she asked him.
“The hotel’s been superb. Best I’ve ever stayed in. This restaurant? Eh.”
“Not so superb?” Trina asked him.
“Just crowded. I hate waiting. That’s all.” Then he frowned. “Hey, wait a minute,” he said and looked at Reno. “You . . . Don’t you own this hotel? At least I think that’s what I heard.”
“You heard it right,” Reno said proudly. The PaLargio was his baby, and he trumpeted it everywhere he went. “And you don’t have a table yet?” Reno started looking around for the restaurant’s GM. He saw him just a few minutes ago.
But Trina stopped him. “That’s not necessary, Ree,” she said. “Marsh can sit here with us. If Gem doesn’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Gemma said, before Reno could object. He was always suspicious of good looking men cozying up to great looking women like his own wife, and Sal’s lady. But Gemma didn’t seem to
mind at all. She slid over in her booth seat, making room for Marsh. Marsh, not at all surprising to Reno, gladly accepted.
But to Reno’s surprise, Marsh turned out to be a good fit for a dinner foursome. He made for wonderful conversation. And they talked and talked and ate and talked. It was a festive evening for all. Until Reno started to notice something. Marsh, throughout the night, had been edging closer and closer to Gemma. And whenever she would laugh unguardedly, he would take advantage and leaned his body against hers. It was all subtle, and could have easily been missed. But Reno was a dog from way back. He knew every move in the book.
But what convinced Reno wasn’t those little moves Marsh was making on Gemma, but later in the evening, when he made one, seemingly innocent suggestion.
“I’m still worried about tomorrow, though,” Marsh said to Gemma.
“What’s tomorrow?” Reno asked.
“Opening arguments,” Marsh said.
“Why would you be worried?” Gemma asked him, that concerned look on her face. “I think all of the bases have been covered for your opening. All you have to do is hit every point we discussed. The jury will eat it up.”
“But I can’t seem to get it quite right yet.”
“What do you mean yet?” Then Gemma frowned. “Are you telling me you haven’t finished writing your opening? Let alone memorizing it?”
“I haven’t,” Marsh said. “This case is so darn layered, which, as you know, are the worse kind.”
“Don’t I know it. But, Marsh, tomorrow is your opening arguments! You’ve got to be ready for your client’s sake.”
“I know, I know.”
By now Reno’s eyes were glued on Marsh. He was waiting for the suggestion. Just waiting for it.
“If I had somebody to bounce ideas off of,” Marsh said, seemingly innocuously. Then he looked at Gemma. “Wait a minute. You are the consulting attorney on the case.”
Gemma smiled. “Yes, Marsh, I’m the consulting attorney.”
“We’re paying for your advice.”
“Yes, that’s true too.”
“Then, after dinner, could you please come upstairs with me and advise me? I really need to do a dry run on my opening with you, and I can’t allow it to be heard by anybody not on the team. If you’ll do it it’ll be great, Gem, and such a big help to the client. If you’ll do it.”
Bam, there it is, Reno thought. A robbery in plain sight. Reno looked at Gemma. She was sipping her wine.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, Gem,” Marsh went on, giving it the hard sell. “But could you please, please, please help me out?”
To Reno’s dismay, Gemma started nodding. But how was she to know that she was being robbed? She only dated dogs before. Reno used to be one. “Sure I can,” she said. “I need you to win this case. I need a winner under my belt.”
Marsh laughed. “Great,” he said, raising his glass in a toast. “After dinner then.”
But while they all continued to talk and ignore the robbery, Reno excused himself to the little boy’s room. To report it. He didn’t stay away long, but he wasn’t returned a full minute before Gemma’s phone was ringing. When she looked at the Caller ID and saw that it was Sal, she smiled. And quickly answered.
“Hi,” she said into her phone.
“No way, no how,” Sal said.
Gemma frowned. “Excuse me?”
“There is no way on this green earth that you’re going into any hotel room with Marsh or Larsh or whatever the fuck his name is!”
Gemma was thrown. What in the world? And he wasn’t through, either.
“Can you help him out my ass! I’ve got his help out right here, Gemma. I’ll help him out all right.”
“Wait a minute,” Gemma said. But Sal was still going strong. “Sal, wait a minute!” Gemma said with an edge in her own voice. Then she looked at Marsh. “Could you let me out, please?”
“Sure,” Marsh said with puzzlement as he got up to let Gemma out of the booth.
“What’s wrong?” Trina asked, looking concerned.
“Who knows,” Gemma said, sliding across the seat, looking more flustered than concerned. She then stood up and headed for the exit.
Trina looked at Reno. “Wonder what that’s about?” she asked him.
But Reno wasn’t answering. He sipped his wine.
Once outside, Gemma was frowning as she spoke into the phone. “Will you please calm down, Sal, and tell me what in the world has gotten into you?”
“What has gotten into me?” Sal asked on the phone, incredulity in his tone. “What the fuck’s gotten into you?! On what planet did you think it’s okay for you to hang out in another man’s hotel room?”
“How did you know about that?”
“What difference does it matter how I know? Who the fuck cares how I know? You just answer my question!”
It was cool outside, and Gemma had one hand gripping her sleeveless arm as she held the phone with her other hand, but it was humid outside compared to Sal’s rage. “I don’t know what you heard,” she said to him, “but I wasn’t going to hang out in any hotel with anybody. Marsh Denning has hired me as a consulting attorney on a case. We were going to discuss the case.”
“After dinner?”
“That’s right.”
“In his hotel room?”
“We’re here at the PaLargio, Sal. He’s staying at the PaLargio. He can’t verbalize his opening arguments in public.”
“So the answer is yeah,” Sal said.
Gemma batted her eyes. Her emotions were so all over the place that she didn’t quite know how to respond. She was angry with him for being so angry with her, but she was also upset with herself for disappointing him so. It was like crazy to her. She’d never gone to these kind of deep and disparate emotions with a man before. This was all so new to her!
“So the answer is yes?” Sal asked her again, when she didn’t respond the first time.
“Yes,” she finally said. “The answer is yes.”
“Hell no,” Sal said. “That’s the real answer. No, hell no are you going into any hotel room with Marsh Denning or anybody else! You hear me Gemma Jones?”
But his seeming right to tell her what to do only made her angrier. “What’s with you?” she asked him. “How can you think so little of me?”
“Think so little of you? What are you talking?”
“I’m talking trust, Sal! How could you believe that I have the kind of morals that would have me going into a hotel room with another man, knowing I belong to you, and just letting that man have his way with me? Because let’s face it, that’s what this entire conversation is about. You act as if a handsome face and a big dick is all it’ll take to win me over.”
But if she thought that would calm Sal back down, she was mistaken. “How the fuck do you know what size his dick is?” he blared at her.
Gemma frowned. “How do I know what? Oh, my goodness! I didn’t say I knew the size of that man’s dick, what in the world!” She looked over and saw that a few of the Valets were hearing her. They were even smiling.
She moved even further away. “I know the size of your dick, Sal, that’s the point I’m making. You act as if that’s why I’m with you. Because of how handsome you are and how well-endowed you are. And if a good looking guy comes along, the way you came along, that’s supposed to be all I’m after. When it’s not and you know it’s not!”
“When it comes to men, I don’t know shit! But I know that guy, that Marsh, wants you. I know that. And you aren’t going in any hotel room with him. I know that too!”
“Okay, fine,” Gemma said. Although she thought he as being unreasonable, for the sake of peace in their relationship she was willing to compromise. “I won’t go to his hotel room. All right? I’ll have him bring the paperwork downstairs to me---”
But this so-called compromise only enraged Sal further. “You won’t have him bring shit to you!” he blared. “Do you understand me? You’re going to tell that man to hit the road
and leave you the hell alone! That’s what you’re going to tell him! Nothing more, nothing less! I’ve got too much on my plate for this shit, Gemma!”
But Gemma frowned. “What shit?”
“This shit! This what man is trying to get into my woman’s panties shit! I don’t live around the corner from you. I expect you to never forget that and behave accordingly.”
“I am behaving accordingly!”
“I expect you to have enough street sense to know that men like Marsh have one thing on their mind. They aren’t interested in your advice. They’re interested in you. At least the part that’s between your legs! And don’t you dare tell me it’s not true. You’re the one who told me about that convention and how he ran around trying to hit on you the entire time.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. She never said anything about him doing that the “entire time.” But trying to reason with Sal right now, she knew, was not going to happen. Any other time, with any other man, she might have called it quits right here and now. She was a free bird and she wasn’t about to let some man cage her up.
But Sal was that man. And the idea of dumping him felt almost debilitating to her. Which she also hated. But it was the truth. Marsh was a lot of good and bad mixed together like everybody else. He was a good attorney, a lousy husband because he was a cheater, but he was probably a decent friend once he understood the parameters of that friendship. But did his friendship, or consulting fees, mean more to her than keeping her relationship with Sal? She didn’t think she should have to choose, since it was nonsensical in her eyes. But it was a fact. She had to choose.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay what? You’re kicking him to the curb?”
He wasn’t making it easy for her. “Yes, Sal, all right?” Satisfied, she wanted to add. So she did. “Satisfied?”
But that only served to stoke his anger once again. “Hell no I’m not satisfied!” he blared. “I don’t like the idea that you would have even considered going to his hotel room! I don’t care how funny and charming he is and how you viewed it as a business meeting. Have your business meeting, but have it during business hours!”
Romancing Sal Gabrini 2: A Woman's Touch Page 12