But it wasn’t Sal’s working theory.
“Excuse me,” the PR Director said, “but we need you for a press availability, Gem. If you don’t mind?”
She did mind. Sal could tell she really didn’t want to discuss the matter any further, let alone to the press. But she knew it was her civic duty and if Sal knew anything, he knew Gemma never skirted her duty.
“I’ve got to go,” she said to him.
“Are you going to hang around the courthouse?” Sal asked her.
“The jury’s in deliberations. I’ll probably leave here and go to my office for the remainder of the day, or until the jurors return with a verdict. They may not return with a verdict today.”
“You don’t think it’ll be today?” Sal asked.
“It might,” Gemma responded. “But I don’t think so, no.”
“I’ll call you,” Sal said, and they kissed on the lips.
And then Gemma was ushered away from him.
When Gemma looked back at him, as if to reassure him, Sal gave her a smile. But he was deeply concerned. Shit like this didn’t just happen to people like them. And he had to find out why did it happen this time. He walked back to his Porsche, got in, and sped off. He had a good idea where to begin his search.
“You can’t go in there, sir,” Marty Guggenheim’s secretary announced nervously, but Sal kept walking past her desk.
“Sir,” she said anxiously as she rose to her feet, as if she could stop Sal Gabrini. She realized she couldn’t when he walked up to Marty’s office door, and kicked it in with his big foot. The splinters on the door flew like projectiles. The secretary hurried back to her desk to call for Security, but Marty, inside his now wide open office, waved her off.
“It’s okay,” he said to her. “Don’t call.”
She heeded what he told her to do, but not without her own level of anxiousness. But it didn’t matter. Sal was singularly focused.
“I heard about the shooting,” Marty quickly said to Sal. “But I had nothing to do with that. I swear to you I didn’t.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know! You keep hinting about these other people. But I’m telling you there’s nobody else! It was all about money. You know it was. We dropped the lawsuit. We did what you wanted us to do. Why do you keep trying to make it about something else?”
Because Sal had a feeling and his feelings never lied. He stared at Marty. He was slick as grease and wasn’t about to tell anything. He had been the lawyer for Sal’s accusers, so he knew he couldn’t do him any physical harm while the story was still in the newspapers. Too much heat would follow any move like that. He had to wait until the story was completely gone and replaced with bigger news.
But Sal didn’t tip his hand. He just left.
Marty, terrified, quickly picked up his desk phone and made a phone call. “He just left,” he said into the phone.
“Did he suspect anything?” the voice on the other end asked.
“Yes! That’s why he came! He broke my door down. He knows something’s up but he can’t put his finger on it.”
“Good,” the voice said. “That’s exactly the way I want his ass to squirm.”
“Who are you? And why won’t you reveal yourself?”
“Don’t you worry about any of that. You got your money, didn’t you? Your clients got theirs too. He just outsmarted us on that lawsuit, that’s all. It ended too fast.”
“What do you mean too fast? His stock took a tumble.”
“For a couple days. That’s not good enough. But that’s alright. I’ve got far more tricks up my sleeve. You just continue to practice your little law and be available should I need you again. And stop asking who I am or why I’m doing what I’m doing, or I’ll make good on my promise to you. I’ll deal with you and your family too. So shut it and mind your own business. He won’t be bothering you again. He’ll have bigger fish to fry than you ever was,” the voice added, and then hung up the phone.
Marty looked at the phone, and hung up too.
CHAPTER TEN
Three days later and Sal parked at the curb outside of Gemma’s law office. He was talking on his cell phone as he waited for her to come out. He had phoned and told her he was taking her to lunch, and she was thrilled to hear it. She told him that she was with a client, but that she should be done by the time he arrived.
And she was right. Within a few minutes of his arrival, she was coming out. Only she wasn’t alone. Sal nearly dropped his phone when he saw Blanche Delilah, his former girlfriend and the woman who used to live in his house in Chicago, coming out with her.
“I’ll call you back,” Sal said to his VP, and ended the call.
He watched as Blanche and Gemma exchanged some niceties. Gemma looked radiant and her usual professional self in the bright afternoon sun, and Blanche looked up to no good. She, in fact, kept glancing at him with a smirk on her face, as if she knew he was watching her ass. And then she headed around the corner to wherever she was parked. Gemma headed to Sal’s car.
When she got inside, they leaned toward each other and kissed on the lips.
“Glad you could make it,” Gemma said with a smile.
“Who was that?” Sal asked as cavalierly as he could. He knew who she was. But did Gemma?
“She’s a new client,” Gemma said. He was dressed down in a crew-neck pullover shirt, and a pair of jeans, and a sports jacket. He looked scrumptious, she thought. Then she looked into his eyes. “The verdict came back this morning.”
“What verdict?”
“Sal! I told you the jurors were in deliberations three days ago. I was on verdict watch when that shooting took place, remember?”
“Oh yeah, right. They just reached a verdict? It took them three days?”
“That’s not excessively long,” Gemma reminded. “They worked Saturday, but were off Sunday.”
“So what’s the verdict?” Sal asked. “Did you win?”
“I lost. The verdict was guilty.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, babe. Was your client guilty?” Sal asked.
“Probably.”
Sal was pleased to at least hear that. “Then justice was served, right?”
Gemma nodded. “Hopefully.”
But Sal had Blanche on his mind. He cranked up. “So what was her beef?”
“It was a he,” Gemma said, “and he was on trial for murder.”
“No, I mean your new client,” Sal said, trying not to sound too concerned. “What’s her deal? What did she want?”
Gemma found it odd that he would be that interested, but ever since that shooting he’d been overly-protective and interested in everything she was up to. He even followed her home from the office Friday night and sat at the center island while she cooked their dinner. “She wants to sue her child’s father for child support.”
Sal didn’t expect to hear that. “A paternity case?”
Gemma looked at him. “Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing. She just seemed too old for that.”
Gemma laughed. “She’s not that old, Sal, now come on.” Then she looked beyond him. “Wait before you pull off,” she said when she saw Barbara Jiles, her paralegal, hurry out of the building and up to Sal’s Porsche.
“What does she want?” Sal asked.
“Something important,” Gemma said, “or she wouldn’t bother.”
Barbara arrived virtually out of breath. “You forgot to show me SARS, boss,” Barbara said as Gemma pressed down the window.
“Oh, right.” Gemma looked at Sal. “It’ll only take a couple minutes. SARS is this new computer program we got installed, but I need to show her how to get into it.”
“I won’t have a thing to do if she doesn’t show me, Mr. Gabrini,” Barbara said with a smile.
“We wouldn’t want that,” Sal responded dryly.
Barbara wanted to roll her eyes. Even though that lawsuit was dropped, she believed everything those workers said about him. He always came across as a little racis
t to her.
But she didn’t go there with Gemma. Not ever. She never mixed it up with women about their men. She, instead, followed her boss back into the building so that Gemma could give her a quick tutorial.
Sal took the opportunity to phone Angelo Romano, his main man, about something far removed from computer programs. “Check on Blanche for me,” he ordered Angelo.
“Blanche?” Angelo asked. “Blanche Delilah?”
“Who else?”
“Why, boss? What’s going on with her?”
“I just saw her leaving my wife’s office.”
“Damn. Out of the blue like that?”
“Just like that,” Sal said. “I need to know what that bitch is up to.”
“Knowing Blanche it’s probably nothing good.”
“Get on it,” Sal ordered. “There’s too many moving parts. There’s too many things happening and I don’t know what the fuck is going on. Now Blanche shows up. Find out what she’s up to, and find out now.”
“I’m on it, boss,” Angelo said. “I’m on it.”
That evening, when Gem and Trina were in Champagne’s, their high end boutique, hanging their new shipment of dresses on the racks, Blanche walked in and told what she was up to. She walked over to Gemma, and asked if she could talk with her.
“Here?” Gemma asked, as she continued to hang up dresses. Blanche was a client. She didn’t mix one business with the other one.
“I know you want me to schedule another appointment at your office, but I don’t think you want me to discuss what I have to tell you at your office.”
Trina looked at Gemma. What in the world was this about? “Why wouldn’t I want you to discuss it at my office?” Gemma asked her client.
“Because it concerns your husband,” Blanche said bluntly.
Trina rolled her eyes. “Here we go again,” she said. “Some trick trying to lie on one of our men again. So what has he done this time? No, let me guess. He’s sleeping with you, right?”
Blanche hadn’t expected this kind of opposition. “Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“You lying little heifer,” Trina said. “Sal wouldn’t cheat on Gemma Jones I don’t care what you say. You’re a liar. You just want Sal because he’s good looking and rich and got the kind of plumbing you dream about. They pull that same shit on my husband. We’re old to the game, sister. You can’t come at us with that.”
“You don’t have to believe me,” Blanche said defensively. “I don’t care either way.” She looked at Gemma. “You don’t have to believe me either. But I’m just giving you fair warning. Earlier, when I came to your office and I wouldn’t reveal who the father was because I said he was a powerful man in town, I called myself protecting you from the truth.”
“Oh, girl, please,” Trina said.
Gemma was equally doubtful, but took a different tone. “You don’t know me,” she said to Blanche. “So I’m sure that wasn’t your motivation.”
“But I know your husband,” Blanche fired back. “I know him very well. I know how violent he can be if you say something he doesn’t like. I wouldn’t tell him if I were you.”
Gemma frowned. “You wouldn’t tell him what?”
“That I’m exposing the secret,” Blanche said with inward delight.
Trina shook her head. “Girl, you better get your life,” she said dismissively. “Exposing the secret. Yeah, right.”
“You need to leave, Miss Delilah,” Gemma said.
“Don’t you want to know the secret? Don’t you want to know that I’ve been your husband’s mistress living in your husband’s mansion in Chicago for many years? Even after he married you?”
Gemma and Trina both stopped cold. Because they both knew about that mansion. And suddenly Trina wasn’t dismissing everything Blanche was saying either. Because she remembered either seeing a blonde there the one time she was at that mansion, or Reno mentioning something about a blonde being there. But a pretty blonde, she remembered, was involved.
Gemma continued to stare at Blanche. The fact that she mentioned that house in Chicago, a house Sal never discussed with Gemma but one Gemma knew existed, gave her some credence. Gemma still didn’t believe her little tale of woe, however. It was going to take much more than what she was saying for Gemma to believe some woman off the street. But Gemma was no blindly in love fool who thought her husband wasn’t capable of shit. Her husband was capable of a lot of shit, and she knew it. But still. “What do you want?” Gemma decided to ask Blanche.
Blanche realized that she had both ladies when she mentioned that mansion. Now she had to play it up. “I want representation,” she said. “Sal won’t cooperate. He set me up in that house in Chicago and took really good care of me there. For years. But then he kicked me out when I told him about our son, and he’s fighting me tooth and nail about it.”
Trina looked at Gemma. Gemma’s heart began to pound. “Your son?”
“Yeah. He didn’t tell you? I’m not surprised. He refuses to admit he’s the father, even though he knows he’s the one. Like I’m a slut all of a sudden. But I wasn’t a slut when he was doing me. No matter what I say, he refuses to face the truth. And I’m struggling out here. My child is struggling. It’s not fair!”
Gemma stared at Blanche. She was a liar, Gemma thought, because Sal wouldn’t keep something that major from her. He knew it would break her heart in two if she found out any of what that woman said was true. “What do you want from me?” she asked.
“I want you to realize what kind of snake your husband really is and represent me in my paternity case against him. That’s what I want!”
“You must be out of your gotdamn mind,” Trina said. “Why would she want to represent her husband’s side chick? If you are his side chick, because that’s still a big IF.”
Even Gemma was amazed by Blanche’s gall. “No,” she said. “I will not be representing you.”
“He doesn’t want you,” Blanche said, this time with what Gemma detected was a tad of desperation in her voice. “He told me so himself. Remember when they kidnapped you in the parking lot of that courthouse? Guess what Sal was doing? He was in bed, I was in bed with him, and I was giving him head. That’s right. I was mouth fucking your husband while you were fighting for your life.”
Gemma dropped the dresses she held in her hand onto the table. “Okay, that’s it. Goodbye. Get out,” she ordered.
“I’m telling you the truth! You can’t stand the truth?”
“You heard the lady,” Trina said. “Get out.”
“Don’t you want to know about your stepson?” Blanche asked Gemma. “The stepson you didn’t even know existed?”
“Get out,” Gemma said, refusing to entertain her. “Or I’ll throw you out!”
Blanche smiled. “Alright, I’m going,” she said, holding her hands up. “I know Loverboy has you well trained. I’ll leave. But that doesn’t mean I’m lying. Because I’m not.”
Blanche looked at Gemma again, she even laughed at Gemma, and then she walked out.
Trina looked at Gemma too. But Gemma was too stunned to look back. It was a conversation that only she and Sal needed to have, not she and Trina. So she simply picked back up her dresses, and continued to hang.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She was waiting for him when he made it home. She stood at the floor-to-ceiling window on the far end of their formal living room, her arms folded, still in her same business suit.
Sal walked in slowly, wondering why the house wasn’t lit up like a Christmas tree the way Gemma usually had it. When he saw her over by the window, he relaxed. But it still felt strange. “Hey,” he said as he walked further into the room, his hands in his pants pockets.
Gemma continued to stare out of the window, with her back to him.
“What are you standing in the dark for?” He walked up to her.
“It’s not dark,” Gemma finally said. And it wasn’t. She had on a lamp. But it was very dim, and Sal could feel the dimness of her spir
it. Something was upsetting her. Was she still worried about that shooting? He had his men keeping tabs on her 24/7, but was she still uneasy? Or was she worried about that video, and that everybody in Vegas knew what kind of brute he used to be? Was that the reason?
He stood beside her. She was looking across the courtyard, where the waterfall and the koi pond centered the space. It was always a place of peace for both of them. But Sal sensed the turmoil.
He leaned against the window frame and looked at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Gemma didn’t know how she was going to address it. But she knew it had to be addressed. She looked at him.
When she did, and he saw the pain in her soft, brown eyes, his heart squeezed. Why was he always hurting her? “What’s the matter, honey?” he asked.
Gemma thought it was going to be cut and dry. She thought she wasn’t going to have any anger whatsoever. She would give him the benefit of the doubt the way she always gave him the benefit of the doubt. But maybe it was the cumulative effect of that lawsuit, and that video, and the shooting, and what her family and friends had been warning her about him for all those years. But something changed when she looked into his eyes. She felt a disappointment she couldn’t explain. And she didn’t even know if what that woman told her was true. “Tell me it’s not true,” she found herself saying to him.
But Sal genuinely didn’t know what she was talking about. “Tell you what’s not true?”
Gemma waited a moment. She could still feel that anger rising, and she couldn’t explain why.
“Tell you what’s not true, Gem?” Sal asked. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Blanche Delilah,” Gemma finally said. “I’m talking about the woman you was so interested in when she came out of my office earlier today.”
Sal’s heart was pounding. He thought his people would find out what Blanche was up to before she had any further contact with Gemma. But apparently she came back. “What about her?” he asked.
“Who is she?”
Sal Gabrini: His House of Cards Page 8