Tommy Gabrini 3: Grace Under Fire (The Gabrini Men Series)

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Tommy Gabrini 3: Grace Under Fire (The Gabrini Men Series) Page 5

by Monroe, Mallory


  Deena’s smile left. And she waved Alex away. “Leave,” she said. “Be a fool. But not with me.”

  “So I’m fired?” Alex asked this with a smile because she knew Deena would never fire her.

  Deena stared at her “You like to torment me, don’t you? You know how I feel about you, but yet you torment me. Do whatever you want. Just don’t include me in your little schemes.”

  Since Alex never had any intention of including her anyway, she gladly left her office.

  Later that same day, however, she did try to include one additional person. She got out of her Saab, walked up to the car parked two cars away from hers, and got into the front passenger seat. She handed the driver a photograph. Of Grace.

  The man looked at the picture. “This her?”

  “That’s her.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Grace McKinsey. She may go by Gabrini now.”

  The man looked at Alex. “Gabrini? She’s a Gabrini?”

  “Yes. Tommy married her, if you can believe it.”

  The man began shaking his head and handed the photo back to her. “I need the dough,” he said, “but I’ll never be crazy enough to need it that badly.”

  Alex was floored. “What are you talking about?”

  “Goodbye, Alex.”

  “What?”

  “She’s a Gabrini, that’s what. Those Gabrinis are insane! I’m not fucking around with one of their women! Never! Now get out. Whatever you scheme up, keep me out of it.”

  Alex was angry beyond measure. “You are such a loser,” she said, grabbing the photo and getting out of the car.

  “Yes, I am,” the man said. “But I’m a loser with good sense. Goodbye,” he said again, when she slammed his door.

  Marie Knox sat at the small table inside the downtown Seattle coffee shop. Deslyn Montgomery, sipping a latte, was sitting at the table with her. They were gorgeous black women, both models and successful in their own right. They were Tommy’s local loves, as they called themselves. But that was all before he married Grace.

  “It’s still unbelievable,” Deslyn said. “Tommy Gabrini actually got married. I absolutely expected that so-called engagement to be some kind of a farce. But he’s actually married.”

  “And to that mouse of all people,” Marie said.

  “Yes. That too. The woman he married was the real farce, in my view.”

  “She’s not remarkably beautiful.”

  “Nowhere near it.”

  “We were his two favorites anyway. I can’t speak for those women he might have been screwing with around the world, but here in Seattle, yes. We were the top two.”

  “The double queens,” Deslyn said, and they smiled and high-fived.

  “I don’t want to lose that,” Marie said, turning serious again. “I can’t lose him.”

  “I agree.” Then Deslyn looked at Marie. “But I’m sure you have a plan.”

  “She’s weak. She won’t hang around under pressure. We put a little heat to her, she’ll fold like an accordion and get out of our way.”

  “She’ll leave Tommy? Not a chance!”

  “She will leave, I tell you! She can’t stand the heat, not a woman like her. She’s not sophisticated enough to realize what she has. She won’t fight. She’ll fold and run.”

  Deslyn shook her pretty head. The fact that they would have to battle it out was the crime for her. “What was Tommy thinking?” she wondered aloud. “Why would he marry someone that is so obviously different from us?”

  “My similar thoughts exactly,” Marie echoed. “I mean, when he wasn’t with me, but was spending time with you for example, I understood it. I saw the attraction immediately. But her? She’s completely different from us in every conceivable way. We’re known for our beauty and our height.”

  “She’s not known for anything.”

  “We carry ourselves with great dignity and sophistication, as if we own the world.”

  “She carries herself with great trepidation and indifference, as if we own her.”

  They laughed.

  “We’re super-gorgeous.”

  “She’s not super anything.”

  “She’s nothing,” Marie said. “She’s nobody. She’s nothing like us. What, I will continue to say until the day I die, was Tommy Gabrini thinking?”

  Then Deslyn thought about it herself, and laughed.

  “What?” Marie asked.

  “Maybe, just maybe, that he picked her because she wasn’t like us. That as we prop ourselves up and deride and excoriate her, we may just be, within our excoriation, revealing exactly why Tommy chose her instead of us.”

  But Marie would have none of that, not even as a joke. “Nonsense,” she said. “There is nothing about that former assistant that could rival us. It’s a mistake on Tommy’s part,” she added. “Pure and simple.”

  Deslyn sipped more coffee, and then nodded her head. “Yes,” she said. “A mistake. Has to be.”

  Then she sipped yet more coffee and tried, throughout their continued conversation, to not look the other woman directly in her eyes.

  “He’s here,” Peter Harpton said, and Amy Richards looked out of the window too. They were on the outskirts of Seattle, in a small, obscure motel, determined to keep the meeting as private as they possibly could. Tommy’s Ferrari had just driven up, and he stepped out buttoning his suit coat.

  “He’s hot,” Amy said, smiling favorably at him. “You weren’t exaggerating at all, Peter.”

  “I don’t exaggerate. If we get him on board we’ve got a treasure.”

  “A very attractive treasure. But you still haven’t told me his Achilles Heel.”

  “He doesn’t have one.”

  “Peter!”

  “Okay, okay! If I had to pick anything, I would say women.”

  Amy looked at him. “Even after his marriage?”

  “Not after, no. At least I don’t think so.”

  “He was a bachelor. That’s not a problem. I want to know what is the man’s weakness now.”

  “He favors black women.”

  “So?”

  “He married a black woman.”

  “In this day and age? Please, Peter, come on. That’s not a problem either. Unless there’s something wrong with the woman. Is there something wrong with her?”

  “From all I’ve heard,” Peter said, heading for the door, “she’s practically a saint.”

  “Good,” Amy said. “Then her race won’t matter. We’ll just have to build up her halo.”

  Peter opened the door before Tommy could knock. And they embraced heartily. He and Tommy were old friends. He was glad to see him again.

  “Come on in, Tommy Tom,” Peter said cheerfully.

  “Quite the digs you picked,” Tommy said smilingly, walking in and looking around.

  “I am in Seattle, after all. What do you expect? A fancy hotel?”

  Tommy playfully choked Peter, causing him to laugh and hug Tommy again as he closed the door. Amy walked up, smiling too.

  “This is one of the DC operatives I wanted you to meet,” Peter said to Tommy.

  “I’m Amy Richards,” she said, extending her hand. “Very nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Tommy said as they shook. She was an attractive blue-eyed brunette, tall and thin. A Washington mover and shaker from how Peter had described her.

  “Grab a seat,” she said, and took a seat in the only chair in the room. “We have lots to discuss.”

  Tommy and Peter were forced to sit on the small, twin bed. Amy pulled up her chair to face the men.

  “I heard about your merger with Beltco,” Peter said to Tommy. “Congratulations.”

  “It’s not a done deal yet,” Tommy said. “But I’m hopeful.”

  “With your art of persuasion? You’re seal that deal just as sure as I’m your friend.”

  “Speaking of deals,” Amy said, interrupting them, “this is the deal. We want you to seek the office of mayor of Seattle, Mr. Gabr
ini.”

  Tommy thought it was ludicrous when Peter first made such a pitch a few weeks ago. He thought it was even more ludicrous now. “Yes, I’ve heard,” was his response.

  “What say you?” Amy asked.

  “I say no.”

  Amy crossed her legs. “May I ask why?”

  “May I ask why would DC be interested in a mayor’s race all the way out here in Seattle?”

  Peter answered that. “Because this is just the beginning, Tom,” he said. “From here to the US Senate, to who knows where. This is just to get your feet wet.”

  “And DC wants to be there to hold your hand the entire way,” Amy said. “We will inject all the money you will need, we will make your tenure as mayor the most successful in Seattle history.”

  Tommy studied the young woman. “Why?”

  Amy smiled. “Because you’re handsome. Because you’re attractive. Because you’re gorgeous. Because you’re beautiful. And did I mention because you’re handsome? The ladies, who vote in mass by the way, will love you.”

  Tommy was immediately uncomfortable, and inwardly angry. He was the successful head of an international corporation. He was a powerhouse manager. He was an intellectual heavyweight. Yet his looks were all they were interested in.

  “No,” he said. “I’m not interested.”

  “Are you married?” Amy asked this as if he Peter had never told her.

  Tommy looked at her. “I said I’m not interested.”

  “I heard you. Are you married?”

  “Yes, I’m married.”

  “Kids?”

  “No.”

  “Describe your wife.”

  Tommy looked at her. “Why?”

  “Is she pretty, I mean?”

  “Yes, she’s pretty. But what in the world does that have to do with anything at all?”

  Amy considered him. “We need you, Mr. Gabrini. I know I seem crass, but your looks will be a very big part of this. You’re the real deal, and that’s what we need. A man with a highly successful business. A man with gumption and toughness. And a man of great looks.”

  “The total package,” Peter said.

  “Right,” Amy echoed. “The total package.”

  “Still not interested.”

  “Is it because of your family background?”

  Tommy gave her a searing look.

  “Your uncle, your father’s father, was a mob boss, no?”

  Tommy didn’t respond.

  “But your father, the man who raised you, was a police chief. Trust me. By the time we’re done, your great father will be the issue. The great chief. The mob boss side of your family will be the joke. So please don’t let your past bother you. We’ve got you covered.”

  She didn’t know what she was talking about, Tommy thought. The idea that she would put great next to the name of a sadistic, hateful, abusive man like his father sickened Tommy. He was about to stand, to get the hell out of her sight, but Amy beat him to the punch. “Stay,” she said, rising herself. “Talk it over with Peter. All we ask at this juncture is that you at least consider our offer. You will win, we can guarantee it, and you will move higher in political life, we can guarantee that too.” Then she blew a kiss at Peter. “Call me later,” she said, and left.

  “Don’t dismiss it out of hand,” Peter urged him as soon as the door closed. “Just think about it. You may change your mind.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “If I can make you laugh, will you at least think about it?”

  “Make me laugh? Come on, Pete! We aren’t in high school anymore.”

  “But if I can make you laugh, will you think about it?”

  “So you’ve got jokes now?”

  “Just say yes.”

  Tommy shook his head. Peter was always the prankster. So he knew one was coming. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “What’s the joke?”

  Peter jumped on top of Tommy and began tickling him. Tommy was so stunned, and so tickled, that he couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I got you!” Peter proclaimed, still straddling Tommy. “You’re laughing your ass off! You have to think about it now. You gave your word.”

  “You tricked me,” Tommy said.

  Peter, staring down at Tommy, at such a handsome man, turned serious. “Yes,” he said. “But what’s a little prank between friends? Right?”

  Tommy smiled. “Right,” he said. And just as he said it, and was about to get up, Peter quickly leaned down and kissed him on the lips.

  Tommy became so angry that he threw Peter off of him, jumped up himself, and then grabbed Peter and rammed him against the wall, and held him there with his muscular forearm against the man’s throat. “What’s wrong with you? Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

  “I was just joking around, Tommy,” Peter nervously proclaimed. “You know how I am!”

  Tommy stared at his old friend. And he was right. Tommy knew how he was. He knew exactly how Prankster Peter was. But he beat his ass just the same.

  FIVE

  Grace was just getting out of the shower when Tommy entered their master bedroom. She stood at the bathroom door, drying off. He was late, which wasn’t like him. “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “A meeting,” he said, removing his suit coat.

  Grace stared at him. Something was wrong. “Are you okay?”

  Tommy looked at her. “I’m fine,” he said more defensively than he had planned. He still couldn’t get over that move Peter made on him, but he knew he had to. He began removing his tie and walking toward her. “I don’t look okay?”

  “You look like you’re upset. Or frustrated.”

  Tommy kissed her on the cheek. “It’s been a long day, but I’m okay,” he insisted, and went into the bathroom, pulled out his penis at the toilet bowl, and began peeing. “You, on the other hand,” he said, looking over at her.

  “What about me?” Grace asked.

  Tommy looked down her body. “You look great.”

  Grace smiled, because Tommy was looking at her ass. “Just get ready, Lover boy,” she said as she headed for the closet. “We’re late as it is.”

  By the time Tommy had brushed his teeth, showered, and shaved, Grace was completely dressed and sitting on the bed, her legs crossed, waiting for her husband. She wore a tight, extremely form-fitting bright red dress with ruching in folds across the front. As soon as Tommy stepped out of the bathroom and saw her sitting there, he felt a surge of pride. “You look wonderful, darling,” he said. “Just beautiful.”

  Grace looked down too, at his naked, sculptured body. “You don’t look bad yourself.”

  Tommy laughed and headed for the underwear drawer. “You know we can always take a moment out of our busy schedules and go a round together?”

  But just as he said it, he heard footsteps on the stairs. “Anybody home?” It was Sal’s voice.

  Grace laughed. She’d heard him when he first came in. “Too late,” she said.

  “I didn’t hear any doorbell ring,” Tommy said.

  “Haven’t you noticed? Your brother doesn’t ring our doorbell. He just comes on in.”

  “Who just comes on in?” Sal asked as he appeared at their bedroom door.

  “You,” Grace said affectionately. She and Sal had developed quite a bond. “And what if I wasn’t decent, Sal? I told you about just barging in.”

  “But you are decent,” Sal said, “so what’s the big deal?” He checked her out. “And you’re looking very, what I would call nice. Real nice and ladylike.”

  Grace smiled. “Thank-you.”

  “So you’re not only decent, but you’re more than decent.”

  “But my husband isn’t decent, as you can see.”

  “He’s never decent,” Sal responded, looking at his brother. “So what else is new?”

  Grace laughed. Tommy couldn’t help but smile. “Real funny,” he said, as he slipped into a pair of briefs. Then he looked at how well his brother was put together. Sal wore a tan suit, wit
h his usual expensive tie pin, gold chain, and Rolex on his arm, with the entire ensemble bringing out the sparkling blue of his eyes and the thick brown of his hair. “You look nice yourself, Sal. Very distinguished. You clean up well.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Sal said. “I still feel like a third wheel.”

  Grace frowned. “Why would you feel like that? Because you don’t have a date?”

  “Because I’m forced to go to this boring-ass event with my big brother and his wife. As if I’m some third wheel.”

  “Oh, give us a break, Sal,” Tommy said. “You don’t have to go.”

  “Yes, I do. Jake is on the board at Beltco. His vote could make the merger happen. I need to be there.”

  “Then what’s the complaint?” Tommy asked. “You could have easily taken someone with you.”

  “Taken someone?” Sal asked. “You mean like another woman?”

  Tommy laughed. “Yeah, a woman. Remember those? There’s any number of women you could have asked to attend with you. They’d love to go with you.”

  “But that ain’t happening,” Sal made clear. “Nobody’s going to think I’m with any woman but Gemma. Since she can’t be here, she’s in the middle of that messy trial back in Vegas, then I go alone. Always.”

  Grace smiled. She always loved Sal’s loyalty to those he loved. Especially Gemma. “You’re a good man, Salvatore Luciano.”

  But he was shaking his head before she could finish her sentence. “Good? Me? You got the wrong guy there.”

  Grace laughed. “Okay, Sal Luca. Sorry.”

  “She’s right, however,” Tommy said as he headed for his massive closet. “You’re a good man. Stop selling yourself short.”

  “What selling short?” Sal wanted to know. “I’m being honest here! Am I a smart man for picking a good woman like Gemma Jones? Yeah, I’ll give myself credit for that. But a good man? Hell no.” Then he looked at Grace. “Good my ass!” Grace laughed again. “Don’t you dare mess up my rep, Mrs. Gabrini, what’s your problem?” But then he winked at her, and laughed too.

  The dinner party was hosted by Jake and Edith Lindley, at their mansion in Madison Park. They were an interracial couple as well, with Jake being of African/Asian descent and Edith of eastern European descent, and they both welcomed Grace with open arms when Tommy first married her.

 

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