Tommy Gabrini: The Grace Factor

by Mallory Monroe

  The plane touched down in Seattle by midmorning, and Tommy Gabrini walked down the steps like a man contented. Branson Nash, his security chief, was waiting beside the limousine and was surprised that no hot supermodel was with his boss. Everybody knew, and Branson especially knew, that Tommy Gabrini had a weakness for beautiful black gals. But he was alone this time.

  Branson waved off the chauffeur when he got out of the limo, and opened the back door himself. Whereas Tommy’s hair was a light blondish-brown, Branson’s hair was dark brown. Whereas Tommy’s eyes had a greenish-blue hue, Branson’s eyes were all blue. But he and Tommy had a few traits in common: they were both tall, muscular, and sexy. At least in Branson’s humble opinion.

  “Glad to be back, boss?” Branson asked as Tommy approached.

  “Depends on what you got for me,” Tommy said. He ducked down and got into the limo.

  “I’ve got plenty,” Branson said. He closed the door, walked around to the other side of the limo, and sat on the backseat beside Tommy.

  Tommy, leaned and slouched in his seat, looked at him. “What did you find out?”

  “You were right,” Branson said. “Dr. Edwin Jefferson is an asshole extraordinaire. We missed it the first time, because he was especially careful then, but he’s getting desperate now. He’s clumsy now.”

  “How so?”

  “Buckle your seat, boss. You aren’t gonna believe this.”

  “Tell me,” Tommy said.

  “I just found out today that Dr. Jefferson hired two men to assassinate you,” Branson said, “but he ended up assassinating them.”

  Tommy was stunned. But he didn’t sit up in his seat as most men would have done, he just stared unblinkingly at Branson. “He what?”

  “At least that’s our conclusion. Both men are missing now.”

  “He hired them---”

  “To take you out, yes, sir,” Branson said.

  Tommy was still reeling. “Who were they? Were they major players?”

  “Hell no. Crackerjack players. Small time all the way. They probably found out who the target was and tried to back out. No low liner is going to try to take out Tommy Gabrini, come on. At least not any that doesn’t have a death wish. And get this, boss: the good doctor was going all over town trying to hire hitmen. But he was out of his depth. He kept going to conmen rather than hitmen and they took him for a lot of dough. Then two bozos decided they would do it, and now they’re missing. And now, ironically, so is Ed. But we have teams of men out looking for the sucker.”

  Tommy pressed the intercom button. “Get me to Marimount,” he ordered his driver.

  “Right away, sir,” the driver responded, and then began to drive away.

  Tommy picked up his car phone and phoned his daughter’s school. “Did you beef up?” he asked Branson as he did.

  “As soon as the report came in earlier today, I did. We have extra security at Destiny’s school, front and back, as we speak.”

  “What about my wife?” Tommy asked, and then quickly corrected himself. “My ex-wife?”

  That slip wasn’t lost on Branson. “We have extra security at her house and at Trammel too.”

  Tommy nodded, as the secretary of the private school came onto the line. “Marimount Academy,” she said. “May I help you?”

  “Principal Blake, please,” Tommy said.

  “I’m afraid the principal is in a meeting at the moment. But I’ll be glad to take a message. May I ask who’s calling?”

  “Tommy Gabrini.”

  “Oh. Sir. Yes, sir, Mr. Gabrini. Ah, I think he may be . . . Just a moment, sir, I’ll get the principal.”

  Tommy was placed on Hold. He looked at Branson. “Is that all you came up with?”

  “As if that’s not earth shattering in and of itself, right?” Branson asked. “But yeah, there’s more. Is there. Seems good old Eddie used to work out of hospitals in Detroit. We checked it with our first background, but everything checked out. Glowing reviews in his files from his supervising physicians. No known complaints. Everything checked out. Besides, the guy’s a surgeon. Who would think to suspect anything less than a stellar record, right? Only it wasn’t so stellar. His family has clout in Detroit, so it was all undercover, but our good doctor had patients dying left and right on him.”

  “Incompetency?”

  “Hell no,” Branson said. “We think murder. We think good old Eddie has a bloodlust. But not just anybody’s. Wealthy women. Three to be precise. All patients of his. Their families said he made attempts to get them to be his women, or to give him power of attorney over their affairs. When they refused, they suddenly ended up dead on the operating table, or dead after some procedure the family didn’t know they were having. It was a really clever cover up. Nothing was said in the papers. The hospitals paid the victim’s families hush money, they took the money, and Edwin Jefferson was led quietly out of the backdoor to go do his dirt elsewhere. Like here, in Seattle.”

  Tommy shook his head. The stupidity of some people never ceased to amaze him. “Any victims here?”

  “No. Unless you count your ex-wife and your daughter. He decided he couldn’t repeat that pattern from his Detroit days, it would be too suspicious. So he changed his pattern. He decided your ex was going to be his ticket up, and Destiny, with her dear daddy dead and his millions within his grasp, was going to be his ticket out. But he needed somebody to take you out first.”

  “Mr. Gabrini, hello.” It was Principal Blake on the line. “I apologize for the delay. How are you, sir?”

  “I have a situation.”

  “A situation, sir?”

  “Go to my daughter’s classroom and sit with her until I arrive. Don’t interrupt her activities, but keep your eyes on her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Inform your staff that if her stepfather step foot at that school, he is to be detained and law enforcement notified. I have my men stationed around the school, so he shouldn’t get through, but just in case.”

  “Dear Lord. Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it, Mr. Gabrini.”

  Tommy ended the call. And leaned his head back, his thick hair dropping across his forehead, as he sighed with a frustrated sigh. He pinched his temple with his finger and thumb, and closed his eyes. His long lashes draped over them.

  Branson Nash looked at him. People thought of Tommy as just a pretty boy, but he’d never met a tougher man. He’d witnessed him nearly break a man in two, when that man did him wrong. People underestimated Tommy’s strength because of his beauty, but Branson never made that mistake. He was Tommy’s chief of security for that very reason. “There’s another thing, boss,” he said.

  Tommy looked at him with weary eyes.

  “Sorry to spring it on you.”

  “Spring away,” Tommy said. “It’s apparently the season for it.”

  “It’s your ex-wife,” Branson said.

  Tommy showed more than a passing interest. Branson had heard he still had a thing for his ex. Tommy’s expression alone made Branson understand why people thought so. “What about her?” Tommy asked.

  “Apparently she and Ed got into it a couple days ago, while you were in Vienna. I only found out this morning when I got the report about Ed. I contacted Will Potts, her front gate chief, and told him to bar Ed from coming onto the premises. He said Ed was already barred from coming onto the premises.”

  Tommy was surprised by this. “Already barred? Why?”

  “He said Ed sped away from the premises two nights ago. He called to make sure Mrs. Jefferson was okay, and that’s when she ordered him to bar Ed. Of course I ordered him to detain that fucker if he showed up again, but he was already on the watch list. But the thing is,” Branson added, “Potts says Mrs. Jefferson has been wearing sunglasses for the past two days, ever since Ed sped away, as if she’s hiding something. Like a beating.”

  Tommy’s wide jaw tightened. He pressed the car’s intercom button. “Get me to Marimount,” he ordered the driver, “and then to Trammel.
”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver said, and increased his speed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Barry Nagarta knocked once and then entered Grace’s office, leaving the door open behind him. This was to be a quick drop by, as he and Grace both had a lot of work to do. Grace was just getting off the phone. But when Barry saw she was still wearing those sunglasses at midday, his suspicion was confirmed. She was definitely hiding something.

  “Were you right?” he asked as he headed toward her desk. “Is it a whisper campaign?”

  Grace leaned back in her chair. “Whisper my ass,” she said. “More like out-and-out sabotage. Every one of the vendors we lost were told that contracting out with Trammel is tantamount to shooting in the dark.”

  “How so?” Barry asked.

  “Their orders may not arrive on time. Our trucks are no longer guaranteed. And the clincher? We are at this very moment quietly preparing papers to file Chapter 7.”

  Barry was shocked. “Liquidation? Are you serious?”

  “Every one of those vendors told me the same story. Trammel is bleeding money. Trammel is in complete decline and on the verge of total collapse. Trammel is bankrupt.”

  Barry sat down. “But who would tell such lies? And why didn’t the board of directors tell you this was what was happening? You’re chairman of that board!”

  “They didn’t tell me,” Grace said, “because they’re the ones spreading the rumors. They’re the saboteurs”

  Barry was confused. And then he understood. “A takeover?” he asked Grace.

  “A hostile takeover, yes,” she responded. “That’s the only conclusion I can reach.”

  “But why destroy the company’s reputation in the process? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It does,” Grace said, “if they intend to wrestle controlling interest so they can immediately turn around and sell it to a corporate raider. They undoubtedly already have a buyer.”

  “And the corporate raider would have no desire to keep the company going,” Barry said, understanding. “He’d want to liquidate its assets anyway.”

  Grace nodded. “Or build back up the company and then sell it to the highest bidder.”

  “But how can the board pull this off without you?” Barry asked. “You’re the majority shareholder.” Tommy saw to that when he turned his shares over to you, he wanted to add.

  “I am majority shareholder easily,” Grace responded, “but during the last recession, I had to forfeit shares in the company to keep the business afloat. My fifty-eight percent is now forty-eight percent. The other board members, those who’d push for this takeover, have a combined forty-two percent of the shares. Ten percent of the shares are owned by two additional seats at the table: one with seven percent, the other with three.”

  “Who are they?” Barry asked.

  “Sonny Lockett owns seven percent.”

  “The eccentric Sonny Lockett? You think you can get him to throw his support to you?”

  “I’m going to work my butt off to win that support. Otherwise, I’m screwed.”

  “He hasn’t committed?”

  “No. The board hasn’t even called for a vote yet. And they won’t until they feel they have at least one vote more than I have.”

  “And the other three percent belongs to?” Barry asked.

  “The Flex-Martin Corporation,” Grace responded. “I sold three percent to them when I thought we were going under for sure. When I sold Sonny seven percent of my shares, I still had controlling interest. It wasn’t as devastating. But when I had no choice but to sell that other three percent, it was tough. But it had to be done.”

  “You think that company is flexible and will be open to a buyback perhaps?” Barry asked. “They are called Flex-Martin, after all.”

  “They won’t deal that way. No buyback. Corporations buy shares for leverage, not for money. It’s usually in their best interest to hold on, not to sell. What I’ve got to do is get them to vote along with me if I can’t get Sonny onboard.”

  “So we’ve got a ten-percent problem.”

  “If I can get Flex-Martin on my side,” Grace said, “then I live to deal another day. If I can get Flex-Martin to flip, it’ll buy me some time. But I’m working them both, Sonny and Flex, to stave off this mutiny now, before it comes around again.”

  Barry frowned. “Before what comes around again?”

  “A new scheme,” Grace said. “Before they try this shit again. It’s a margins game, but they’re willing to play dirty. Outside of the margins. If they fail this time, they’ll try again.”

  “Then it’ll all come down to Flex-Martin making a deal with you, or Sonny making a deal. My money’s on . . . I don’t know, Grace. Both will be hard sells.”

  Grace nodded. “I agree.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Barry asked. “Go to Tommy?”

  Grace exhaled. “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t my first thought. He was.”

  “Tommy would help you in a heartbeat.” Then Barry smiled. “He could give Sonny Lockett and/or Flex Martin an offer they couldn’t refuse.”

  “I know that,” Grace said. “But when he turned his shares over to me before we married, making me majority shareholder, he told me to run my company. Those were his words. Run my company. He didn’t tell me to run back to him whenever hard times hit. And that recession was the hardest time of my professional life. It was just after the divorce. Vendors were worried because Tommy was no longer involved. And then the recession hit. It was hell. But I didn’t run to Tommy back then. I ran my company. I lost ten percent of my shares in the process, but the decisions I made allowed Trammel to not only just survive through that recession, but to thrive through it. Tommy and I weren’t on the best of terms back then, but even he phoned and congratulated me. Trucking companies were tanking left and right, but Trammel was still standing. I’m proud of that.”

  “And so you should be,” Barry said, feeling proud of her too. Grace had changed so much since the first time he met her. She was a grown-ass woman now. Grace was in charge. “But what can we do?” he asked her. “What about your husband? Maybe Ed can help us.”

  A ripple of pain shot through Grace’s body at the idea of asking Ed for help. Not on her life would she go there. She once actually loved that joker. It was a rebound love, and she made the grave mistake of marrying on the rebound, but she did truly love him. Now something akin to hate filled her heart at just the thought of him. Her father once told her that a man who would ball up his fist and hit a woman, as Ed had done to her, was a man not to be trusted. He might have feelings for that woman, her father added, but those feelings didn’t include love. She knew the truth long before now. She knew she had made a mistake when she divorced Tommy, and an even bigger mistake when she married Ed.

  But the idea of being twice-divorced, and putting her daughter through yet another upheaval like that, gave her too much pause. And it also forced her to do some serious soul-searching. She had to figure out what was her problem because the common denominator in her failed relationships weren’t the men. The common denominator was her. She was still soul-searching even the night Ed hit her. But after he hit her, the search was over. She contacted her lawyer to draw up divorce papers the very next day. She hadn’t heard from Ed since. “He’s not an option,” she said to Barry.

  “Who’s not an option?” a voice said near the office door.

  Barry turned around quickly at the sound of that voice, and Grace looked too. Tommy was standing there, leaned against her doorjamb, looking gorgeous with his hands in the pants pockets of his elegant suit, with his imported shoes crossed at the ankles, and with his big eyes sparkling with the warmest smile on his face. Her heart soared. He should hate her after the way she left him. He should hate her after the way she once went along with Ed’s scheme to keep Destiny’s contact with him at a minimal. But he didn’t. He treated her, ever since their divorce, with nothing but kindness and respect. He’d shown her nothing but love.
She’d never met a man like Tommy.

  “Hey there,” she said with a warm smile of her own. “I thought you were out of the country.”

  “I was,” Tommy said, pushing away from the doorjamb and walking toward her desk. Barry stood up. “What is this bum doing here?”

  Barry smiled as they shook hands. “How are you, Thomas?”

  “I’m okay. How are you?”

  “Very well, thank the Lord.”

  “Great person to thank.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Barry said. “And you’re doing better than okay. I heard the Gabrini Corporation is about to acquire Manesco.”

  “It’s not a done deal yet,” Tommy cautioned. “But it’s a promising prospect.”

  “Which, translated,” Barry said, looking at Grace, “it’s a done deal.”

  Grace smiled. And then there was that pregnant pause. Barry got the message. “I will get back to work, if you guys do not mind,” he said. And then he looked at Grace. “Phone me if there is anything more I can do. I will be in my office.”

  “Thanks, Bare,” Grace said. Barry said his goodbyes to Tommy, and left, closing the door behind him this time.

  Tommy was standing in front of Grace’s desk. Staring at her. Specifically those sunglasses she wore where there was no sun. “Who’s not an option?” he asked again.

  Grace didn’t want to tell Tommy her woes because she would risk him taking over and resolving it his way, before she had a chance to act. But she wasn’t going to lie to him either, or keep it from him. “There’s some rumblings on the board, and I’ve got to take care of it. Nobody else is an option.”

  “What kind of rumblings?” Tommy asked. “Takeover rumblings?”

  Grace forgot how perceptive Tommy could be. “Yes,” she said. “My board is attempting to wrestle control from me so they can sell the business and take the money and run.”

  “Sell it to whom?” Tommy asked.

  “I haven’t worked that out yet. But I’m on it.”