Then her face became a mask of pain and disgust. “I don’t believe you!” she said. She could feel the tears coming. She was fighting them, but she could feel their descent. She couldn’t believe it herself. The morning went from sweetness to bitter just like that. She went from elation to depression in a single ride.
“I thought we had a breakthrough last night. I thought the purpose of you taking me to see your father was because you were going to give our relationship a try.”
“I am giving it a try, how many times do I have to tell you that? I’m not planning on doing anything to hurt you,” Sal tried to assure her. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got it all wrong. You aren’t planning to do anything like that. Until the right skank comes along. Then you want to have permission banked up so you can do whatever the hell you want then. So don’t even play me like that, Sal. I don’t have shit wrong and you know it. You have shit twisted, that’s what’s really going on here, if you think I’m going to sit up here and allow you to disrespect me like that!” She began unbuckling her seatbelt.
“What disrespect?” Sal wanted to know. “What are you talking? I told you I’m not gonna do anything like that.”
“Yeah, right. You aren’t gonna do shit. You’re a man, and a man is different from a woman, and a man gets around, and a man goes all over the world and gets lonely, yeah, right. You won’t do shit. You aren’t disrespecting me either, are you?” Then the pain seared her and she had to get out.
“What disrespect?” Sal was asking as she slung her seatbelt aside and slung the door open, almost hitting the valet.
“Gemma, what disrespect?” Sal asked again as he grabbed for her. But her anger had accelerated her speed.
Sal angrily began to unbuckle too. “Fuck!” he said angrily as he tossed his seatbelt aside and jumped out too. “Gemma!” he yelled as she made her way into the lobby. Sal tried to follow her, but the valet jumped in his way.
“You’re barred from entrance into this hotel, sir,” the young man said.
“Gemma!” Sal yelled again, looking past the staff, his heart in a kind of pain he’d never experienced before. “Gemma!” he yelled again.
But Gemma kept walking. She did not look back.
Later that afternoon, after being unable to get her on the phone at all (she refused to answer his numerous calls), and after a series of meetings he couldn’t miss even if he wanted to, Sal drove back over to the Briar-Brance Hotel. He bribed his way in through a side entrance. But Gemma was nowhere to be found. He knew this was Friday, her last day, and their argument precluded them from discussing her return to Vegas, but that was why he got over there early. Before her seminar was set to end by two.
But Sal found out that the last class, the afternoon class, had been canceled by the instructor. She conducted the morning session, according to one of the conference facilitators, but the last class was canceled. Sal’s heart began to squeeze in anguish as he made his way onto the elevator. When he knocked and knocked on her room door, and was told by one of the maids in the corridor that she was no longer there, his heart began to pound. He went back downstairs and made his way to the front desk. He had to confirm it for himself. But it was true. She was gone. Her plane, according to the concierge who arranged the flight, left two hours ago.
Sal knew he had messed up. He knew he should have explained himself better, or thought through the implications, or just didn’t bring it up at all. It wasn’t like he had some other woman in mind. He didn’t. He didn’t even want another woman!
And it wasn’t like he didn’t want Gemma. He did. Badly. But it was typical Sal to blow it. And as he left the hotel, amazing the valet staff when they saw that he had managed to sneak past them again, he was upset that he blew it. But he was even more upset that he allowed himself to get so emotionally entangled with some female that he was actually threatening tears. Tears!
He got in his Ferrari, cranked up, and sped away as if his life depended on it. He didn’t need her anyway. He didn’t need this shit! It was probably the best thing that could have ever happened to him when she decided to take it upon herself and leave town early. Didn’t phone him. Didn’t tell him shit. She just left. And he wasn’t about to worry about it, either. Not Sal Luca Gabrini. No way. She would have to get up mighty early in that mythical morning before she came close to worrying him.
But when a red light stopped his progression, and he could no longer feed on the acceleration, his heart dropped. A part of him knew it was best for her to find out now that he wasn’t worth a damn, but another part of him, the biggest part, couldn’t feel that altruistic. She was gone. Perhaps the best thing that ever happened to him had left him alone, and it hurt like hell.
It hurt so overwhelmingly that he didn’t even hear his car phone ringing, until it was almost about to stop.
“Hello?” he said as he picked up on what was actually its last ring before Voice Mail.
“He’s at it again, Sal,” a female’s voice said on the other line. “So you need to get yourself to Jersey, and get here now. I can’t keep trying to do this by myself. I’m not gonna keep doing this by myself.”
CHAPTER TEN
Two Months Later
Gemma hurried out of the Vegas County courthouse with her briefcase in one hand, and her coffee, in a secured Styrofoam cup, in the other. But as soon as she made it across the parking lot and jumped into her BMW, what the courthouse café called secure was anything but. The coffee spilled out of the top from the jolt of her plop down on her car’s seat, and immediately stained the jacket of her pristine pantsuit.
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. It had been tough enough. If it wasn’t for bad luck, she was beginning to believe, she’d have no luck at all. Because all she’d had lately were a string of misses. Including today, when an utterly winnable lawsuit was just lost by her. She not only had to content with the biting defeat, but a livid client who thought he was well on his way to becoming a millionaire. Now he not only wasn’t getting a dime, but he owed attorneys’ fees and court costs and almost a contempt of court charge when he tried to attack Gemma. And because she took the case on contingency, which meant she did not get a dime if he lost the case, all of her hard work was going to amount to zero dollars. Just like her last case. And the case before that. She was sinking fast.
She poured out the remainder of her coffee, upset that she would not get that caffeine buzz she knew she needed, and closed her car door. She cranked up and took off, driving straight for the PaLargio. Stained jacket and all. She had promised Trina last night that they would go over the balance sheets today before the new shipment arrived at their boutique. Trina no longer worked full-time at Champagne’s. They, instead, relied on Liz Mertan, the third co-owner, and hired help to keep the boutique afloat. Mainly because Trina was busy with the re-launch of the PaLargio, her husband Reno’s hotel and casino on the Vegas Strip. She was also planning Tommy and Grace’s upcoming nuptials at the PaLargio, although, last Gemma heard, there might be some serious trouble in paradise there. But paradise was for the birds anyway, as far as Gemma was concerned. As soon as you get invested, as soon as you decide to give your heart, they feed on it and then toss it back, as if they didn’t want it to begin with. It never failed. In all of Gemma’s numerous relationships down through her twenty-nine years, it always ended up that way.
By the time she arrived at the PaLargio and entered the magnificent lobby, she forgot all about paradise. Because she was looking at it. It seemed as if Reno had taken the tragedy of that bombing of his hotel, and turned it around. To Gemma, he made it even more majestic than it was before.
“Gorgeous, Trina, gorgeous,” she said as she made it upstairs to Trina’s huge office.
“You like?” Trina said with a smile. She was seated at her conference table, a table already overcrowded with documents.
“I love,” Gemma said as she made her way over, gave her friend and business partner a hug, a
nd sat down at the table. “Reno sure knows how to do it.”
“Don’t he though?” Trina said. Gemma smiled. She was always amazed at how impressed Trina always seemed to be with her own husband.
“I said damn, babe,” Trina continued, “you broke the mold this time. This is tight. This is nice.”
“That it is,” Gemma said. “He’s pleased, I take it?”
“You should see him. Like a kid in a candy store. Him and Jimmy Mack both.” Then she glared at her friend. “How did it go? Wait a minute. Don’t tell me. They threw coffee on you, so it went terrible?”
“I threw coffee on myself, but it went terrible. Again.”
“Ah, Gem,” Trina said and rubbed her friend’s neck. “You’re still a dynamite attorney. You’re just having a tough run right now.”
“Tough isn’t the word, Tree. If I don’t start cobbling together a string of victories soon, then I’m going to have to consider giving some things up.”
Trina frowned. “What things?”
“Oh, little things. Like my house. My car.”
Trina was surprised. “It’s that serious?”
“I’m just kidding,” Gemma said with a smile, although she wasn’t kidding at all. But that look on Trina’s face scared her. She hated pity and wasn’t about to take any from anybody. Not even Tree. “But I still would love for things to turn around.”
“And they will. You’re too good a lawyer for things to keep going downhill.”
“No place to go but up at this point,” Gemma said as she pulled out the balance sheets. At least that was her hope and prayer. “But anyway,” she said. “Are you ready for the review? Or do I need to come back?”
“No, no,” Trina said. “Let’s do this.”
Gemma smiled as she spread out her paperwork on top of the enormous amount of paperwork that already cluttered the table. And for the next hour, she and Gemma got down to business.
They were almost about to wrap up, in fact, when the office door opened and Sal entered talking.
“I love that husband of yours, Tree,” he said as he entered, “but sometimes that man---” When Sal saw her, sitting there next to Trina, his heart rammed against his chest. He stopped in his tracks.
Gemma looked up when she heard that voice and stopped cold too. She wore reading glasses, perched on her nose, but she was too stunned by the view to even realize it. It had been two months. Two whole months of sleepless nights, and then anger at herself for allowing herself to care for him that much. She wasn’t ready for this.
She began to gather back up the balance sheets. They were wrapping it up anyway. Trina looked at her. She knew she should have warned Gem that he had arrived in town earlier today, with him claiming to be just passing through. But she decided against it. She could see the pain in Sal’s eyes when he arrived; when the first words out of his mouth was to ask about Gemma. She was the one who received the almost daily phone calls from him, pretending to see how she and the family were doing, but always making it his business to ask about Gem. And over the past months she saw the anguish, the anger, and the sadness in Gemma’s big, bright eyes too. If fate had it that they should meet again, then Trina had already decided long ago that she would not intervene. She would let nature take its course.
Besides, by the way both of them were reacting just by seeing each other again, made Trina believe all the more that those two weren’t done yet. They still had plenty of unfinished business.
“I’ll tell Liz about the changes,” Gemma said as she placed the balance sheets back in the folder and stood up. “She’ll probably want to make further changes,” she added as she placed the folder in her briefcase, “but I’ll handle that part. It’ll probably be cosmetic things anyway.”
“Okay, Gem,” Trina said. “See you later.”
Gem began to walk with a deliberate, steady gait toward the exit (and, by default, Sal). So steady, Trina noticed, that she was actually walking slightly unsteadily.
“Hello,” Sal said when she made it to the door. They were within inches of each other. He could smell her fresh scent, her sweet perfume. He had missed her mightily.
“Hey,” she said to Sal, her voice determined to remain clear and unwavering. Then she turned to Trina, as if to prove that she was so over him. “I’ll get the final mark-up to you this afternoon,” she said.
“Sure thing,” Trina said.
But as Gemma turned to leave the office, satisfied that this unexpected encounter had gone about as awkwardly well as it could have gone, Sal grabbed her by the arm and stopped her progression.
She looked at him. Those stark blue eyes that haunted her still. That strong hand, a hand that used to touch her inside and out, a touch she still, to this day, craved.
“How have you been?” he asked her. His heart was still hammering at just the sight of her again. His dreams of her didn’t lie. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Not just because of her looks. It wasn’t just a physical thing. But there was something about her look; something about her physicality and her presence that placed her head and shoulders above any woman he’d ever known. How could he have been wishy-washy with her. How could he have blown it so completely!
“I’ve been fine,” she said to him. “And you?”
He loved the dignity of this woman. He love the way she held her head so high, as if she was stronger, not because of her encounter with him, but in spite of it. But he could see the strain in her eyes. “Sure you’re okay?”
He still held onto her arm. She could feel the pressure of his touch. But it only made her more determined. “I’m fine,” she said. “In fact I’m great.”
“You don’t look so great,” he said, staring in those eyes.
Gemma almost went off on his ass. How dare he say a thing like that to her? But she saw that look in his eyes, too, and it was such a caring, concerned look that her anger couldn’t survive a release.
“I spilled some coffee on my jacket,” she said, still fighting to keep it together. “That may account for your assertion that I’m not as sharp as I usually am. Although it’s been two months so I don’t know how you would know that. But anyway. After I leave here I plan to go by my house and change before I head to the boutique.”
But instead of ramping down his interest, her comment seemed to heighten it. “Whatta you running around wasting coffee on yourself for?”
“I’m not running around wasting anything. I wasted it. It was a stupid mistake.”
“Yeah, walking in front of a truck is a stupid mistake too. But I wouldn’t be bragging about it.”
Gemma couldn’t believe it. This man had the nerve to be arguing with her about the fact that she spilled something on herself. Not on him, on herself!
Then he looked at Trina. “I’ll talk to you later, Tree,” he said.
Trina wanted to smile. They were so cute together, she thought. But she had to keep it neutral. “Sure thing,” she said.
And then Sal stepped aside so that Gemma could walk out of the door. But he didn’t release her arm.
Once he, too, was out in the hall and Trina’s office door was closed, he then placed his hand on the small of Gemma’s back. “Let’s go,” he said, as if there had been no lapse of time, no angry end, nothing.
It was so incredible to Gemma, so Sal-like, that she couldn’t resist his pull. That was one of the things she liked most about Sal. He took charge. She hated to admit it, especially to herself, but she liked the fact that sometimes somebody else was more than able to enter her life’s ride, and take the wheel.
That fact became literal when they made it outside of the PaLargio and in the round just outside the hotel. The hotel and casino was not open for business yet, that was still some weeks away, and therefore the almost manic activity that normally hung outside of the place was virtually non-existent. Workers were still putting the finishing touches on the place, and they were prevalent, but Sal and Gemma were the only two “regular” people around. But it felt a
lmost surreal to Gemma when Sal went to her car, put her on the passenger side, and asked for her keys. And then he, literally, took the wheel.
He drove her, with directions, to her home in North Vegas. At first it was as awkward as awkward could get. They were both silent, and Sal seemed particularly sedate. Gemma kept glancing at him, as he drove, and even she could see the change in him. He looked bigger to her, as if he gained a few pounds, but even more impressive. His dress style always pleased her: the way his suit and tie were always that super-expensive Italian silk with the perfect tie pin and cufflinks; his (always present) diamond ring; and his Cartier wristwatch. So Sal hadn’t missed a style step since she last saw him. But there was something more there too, something that wasn’t quite vulnerability - but it was bordering on it.
But when they stopped at a red light, and the silence became a third passenger, he started looking around: at the car roof, the car seats, the traffic outside of the car. Anywhere, everywhere, except at Gemma.
“Nice car,” he said of her BMW. “Had it long?”
“A little over a year,” Gemma said.
Sal nodded. “It’s nice,” he said again, looking around again.
Gemma said nothing. It felt like talking about the rug when there was a monkey in the room.
Then Sal finally looked at Gemma. She looked radiant to him. She could see the stress in his eyes. “I wanted to phone you many times,” he admitted, “but I didn’t know what to say to you.”
Gemma had wanted to pick up that phone herself a time or two, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“I wanted to tell you that I didn’t mean what I had said in Seattle,” he went on. “At least that was what I wanted to call and tell you. But I couldn’t call and tell you that because that would be a fucking lie. I meant every word I said in Seattle.”
This man, Gemma thought irritably as she stared at him. Why was he being so brutally honest now? Why couldn’t he be like other men and just say something to soothe her, to placate her right now? Didn’t he understand how difficult this reunion was for her? Why did he have to drag truth into it?
ROMANCING SAL GABRINI Page 13