Romancing Sal Gabrini 2: A Woman's Touch (17 page)

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Authors: Mallory Monroe

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Romance, #Multicultural, #Crime Fiction

BOOK: Romancing Sal Gabrini 2: A Woman's Touch
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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!”

“Okay,”
she said.
 
“I said okay!”
 
Then she settled back down.
 
“I’d better get back inside,” she added.

There
was a pause on his end of the line.
 
“Talk to you later,” he said, and then the line went dead.

Gemma
hung up too.

But
when she returned to the booth inside the Barker Lounge, her eyes were trained
on Reno.
 
Then she asked Marsh if he
could excuse them.

“Sure,”
he said.
 
“I’ll be at the bar.”

When
he left, she didn’t sit down, but continued to stare at Reno.
 
“Why would you call him?” she asked.

“Call
who?” Trina wanted to know.

“Sal,”
Gemma said.
 
“Reno called Sal and just so
happened to mention the fact that after dinner I was going upstairs to review
Marsh’s opening argument.”

“And
Sal’s upset?”

“Upset?”
Gemma asked. “That man is pissed!”

“Damn
right he’s pissed!” Reno said.
 
“And if
you’re asking, rather than just insinuating if I called him, then the answer is
yes, I did.
 
I absolutely did!
 
And you can be angry with me all you want,
Gem, but you’re Sal Luca’s old lady.
 
You
aren’t some random woman!
 
Sal had a
right to know what was going down, whether you think he did or not.
 
I would expect nothing less from him if it
had been Tree and some man, and he expects nothing less from me.”

Gemma
was beside herself.
 
She looked at
Trina.
 
But she got no sympathy
there.
 
Trina exhaled, a stormy yet
resigned look in her hazel eyes.
 
“Welcome to Gabrini World,” she said to her friend.

Gemma
didn’t realize just how much she was indeed in a new world until that look in
Trina’s eyes validated it.
 

That
made it easier for her to go to Marsh and tell him, although she’d continue to
consult on the case, it would have to be during business hours only.
 
But she left the restaurant all the
same.
 
It was a different world she was
now living in, but it was up to her, not Reno, not Tree, not even Sal, to
determine what place she had in it.
 
That
would be for her to figure out.

 

“Where
is he?” Chazz asked Will as they waited in Will’s car.
 
They were in back of an old, empty building.

“Just
keep your shirt on,” Will responded.
 
“He’ll be here.”

But
it would be several more minutes, nearly half an hour, before the car drove
up.
 
And when Patty Pacheco got out of
the trunk of the car, rather than the front seat, Chazz frowned.

“What’s
his problem?” he wanted to know.

“What
do you think?” Will responded.
 
“He
busted out of prison.
 
There’s a
nationwide manhunt for his ass.
 
You’d be
traveling in a trunk too!”

“Not
me,” Chazz said. “I’ve got more class than that.”

“Class
my ass,” Will said, as he rolled down the car’s window.

Patty,
from their understanding, was coming to give them instructions.
 
Instructions straight from Fab Menza’s
mouth.
 
But Patty, instead, once he
arrived at the car’s window, greeted them and then pulled out a gun.
 
He shot both men repeatedly.
 
Their bodies buckled and jerked and Patty
kept shooting until there was no movement left.
 
Then he shot off a few more rounds for insurance.
 

He had
come on Fab Menza’s orders, all right, but only not for the reasons Will and
Chazz could have ever expected.

Patty
got back in that trunk, and the car drove away.

 
 
 
 
 

THIRTEEN

 

Gemma
arrived at the county courthouse early that next morning.
 
It had been a long night.
 
She had waited half of the night for Sal to
phone her and make up to her, but that call never came.
 
Then she spent the other half of the night
trying to decide if she should phone him.
 
By the time she decided against it, and was able to get some sleep, it
was already three a.m.
 
Now it was eight,
she had a long day ahead of her, and she felt like the walking dead.

She
was in the break room inside the courthouse.
 
She poured herself a cup of coffee and then made her way to the attorney
room.
 
This was where she met her
clients.
 
The ones still locked up, that
was.
 

After
requesting her latest client’s presence, she sipped her coffee and reviewed her
notes.
 
Her eyes felt irritated, and she
kept yawning, but she knew she had to pull it together.
 
Kenny Winston was facing a murder rap, with
the possibility of twenty years to Life, and the evidence was powerful against
him.
  
She wanted him to take the plea
the prosecution was offering, but he wasn’t interested.
 
He wanted to fight and win an unwinnable
case.
 
So she was fighting.
 
But given the overwhelming negative evidence,
she had precious little to work with.

And
to make matters worse, as soon as Kenny Winston walked into the attorney room
and saw her, he was ready to turn back around.

“I
thought you said my lawyer was here to see me,” he said to the guard.

The
guard, a burly black man, pushed him back into the room.
 
“Don’t play with me, boy,” he said.
 
“Your black ass know that’s your lawyer!”

“No
it ain’t either,” Kenny shot back.
 
“I fired
her.
 
She’s no lawyer of mine!
 
They said they’re gonna appoint me a new
attorney after I make my declaration in open court today.
 
I don’t want nothing to do with her.
 
She’s just a patsy for the prosecution!”

The
guard looked at Gemma.
 
“Is that true,
Miss Jones?
 
I mean, about you no longer
representing him?”

Gemma
began closing her notebook and standing.
 
“Apparently so,” she said.
 
It
wouldn’t be the first time she was the last to know.
 
And Kenny was right.
 
They would meet before the judge, he would
make his request known in open court, and, if all goes according to his plan,
that should be the end of her time on the case.

She
looked at Kenny.
 
“I wish you well with
your new attorney,” she said.

“Yeah,
right.
 
Sure you do!
 
You and the prosecution!
 
Trying to get me to take some plea deal!
 
I’m not taking shit, you hear me?
 
I’m not taking shit!”

Gemma
left.
 
He’d regret this day, she knew,
when the judge was imposing twenty or more years on his behind.
 
Then suddenly those five years she was able
to wrangle out of the prosecution wouldn’t look so ominous then.

But
her brave front, and her almost lackadaisical response in front of Kenny and
the guard, were as phony as she felt.
 
She walked slowly out of the attorney room, still putting her best foot
forward, until she made it down the hall into the Ladies bathroom.
 
When she realized she was alone, she leaned
against the sink and fought back tears.
 
Being an attorney had always been her mother’s dream, who was a
phenomenal attorney, and her own dream as well.
 
She never dreamed she’d be this bad at it.
 
She hadn’t won a case in eons and even judges
were becoming hesitant to agree to court appoint her on a case.
 
And her law practice was her bread and
butter.
 
She couldn’t rely on anything
else.
 
Not Champagne’s, which was just
beginning to break even and may never go any further than breaking even.
 
Not Sal, who became bitterly angry with her
last night and didn’t bother calling her to make up.
 
Her law practice was it.
 
Now it was failing her too.

A
woman came into the bathroom, forcing her to grab a tissue, bat her watery
eyes, and then hightail it out of there.
 
She knew too many lawyers in this building for her to let any of them
see her crying.
 
She therefore hurried
toward the atrium to make a clean getaway.

But
that didn’t mean her day couldn’t get any worse.
 
It did.
 
Almost immediately after she came out of the bathroom.
 
She was in the atrium, about to head
downstairs, when Marsh Denning hurried up to her.

“Gem,
hey!”
 
She turned around.
 
“I’m glad I caught up with you.” When he saw
her puffy eyes, he frowned.
 
“You okay?”

“I’m
good, yeah,” Gemma said, attempting to ignore the obvious.
 
“What’s up?”

“Great
news.
 
We decided to settle the
case.
 
The one you’re consulting on, that
is.”

Gemma
stared at him.
  
“You did?”

“We
did.”

“And
when did you decide to do this?”

Marsh
smiled.
 
“Yesterday morning.
 
I’m sticking around to complete the final
package.
 
I should be heading back to
D.C. later today.”

But
Gemma was floored.
 
“You settled the case
yesterday morning?”

“That’s
right.”

She
had to fight to maintain her composure.
 
“Then why were you asking me to review your opening argument last night
if you knew the case was settled and there would be no trial?”

Marsh
had to smile at that.
 
“Ah, come on,
Gem.
 
You know me.
 
You think I was going to resist a chance to
hit that?” He said this and gave her body an approving look over.
 

Gemma
just stood there.
 
She couldn’t believe
it.

“But
you knew that, right?” he asked.
 
“You
knew where I was coming from, right?
 
You
was lonely, I was lonely, I thought we could make some beautiful music
together.
 
Just for a night anyway.
 
But you knew that, right?”

Gemma
was beside herself.
 
Not only was she a
terrible attorney, but she couldn’t even spot a pickup anymore when she used to
know them like the back of her hand.
 
She
shook her head.

And
Marsh had the nerve to be smiling and extending his hand.
 
“No hard feelings,” he said.

But
Gemma looked at his hand as if it were a snake, looked at him with nothing but
contempt in her heart, and then headed downstairs.
 
She just left.

Marsh’s
smile soon dried up.
 
His heart was
regretful.
 
He really could have fallen
for her.
 
But not after the way she
treated him last night.
 
Not after she
suddenly wasn’t good enough to go to upstairs with him.
 
Not after that.
 

“That’s
what you get, bitch,” he said as he watched her leave.
 
“Think you’re going to brush me off and get
away with it?
 
That’s what you get.”

 

When Gemma
made it across the parking lot to her car, she got in, leaned her head back,
and tried with all she had to pull herself together.
 
This was fast becoming, not just a bad day,
but a horrible one.
 
What, she wondered,
could she savage of it?

She
pulled out her smartphone and reviewed her schedule for the week.
 
It was all about Kenny’s trial and her
consulting work for Marsh.
 
Now that both
of those revenue streams had dried up, there was absolutely nothing on her
docket.
 
Not one case.
 
And Trina made clear that she had Champagne’s
well in hand, her and their third partner Liz and the new manager they had
hired.
 
So Gemma leaned her head
back.
 
It wasn’t as if she couldn’t use
the break, because she knew she could.
 
It was just not the kind of break she had been hoping for.
 

Not
that she didn’t have plenty of things to do.
 
She could go home and clean her house the way she wanted to, she
thought, and wait for the next case to come along.
 
Or she could spread the word around that she
was open to more court-appointed cases.
 

Then
she thought about Sal.
 
Still no phone
call from him, still no messages.
 
And he
had been right.
 
Marsh wasn’t interested
in anything but what was between her legs, just as Sal had called it.
 
Which was ridiculous.
 
The idea that she would let any man other
than Sal touch anything between her legs was absurd!
 
But Sal had called it right.
 
Just as she would have called it before she
became so full of herself, and stopped paying attention.

She
phoned her office.
 
Curtis answered on
the first ring.

“Gemma
Jones, Esquire,” he said.
 
“May I help
you?”

“Yes,
Curtis,” she said, wondering what was the fastest flight she could get out of
town.
 
“You can help me.”

 

Later
that afternoon, Sal was seated in his office at the Gabrini Corporation in
Seattle, Washington, leaned so far back in his swivel chair that Shannon, his
senior assistant, thought he was going to tip over.
  
She took her finger and sliced her dark hair
out of her face as she waited for him to get off of the phone.
  

When
he finally did hang up, she sat two papers in front of him.

“What’s
this?” he asked.

“The
pay raise requests for the senior assistants.”

“Tommy
saw them yet?”

“He
was already on the plane when the lawyers gave final approval.
 
And according to his office, he isn’t due
back here until the end of the week.”

“So
what do you want me to do about it?”

“Approve
them.”

“Without
my brother’s input?
 
Not a chance!
 
We’re partners around here.
 
When he returns we’ll sit down and take a
look at it.”

“He’s
going to say no, Sal, and you know it.
 
We’re counting on you.”

“Then
that’s where you made your mistake.
 
I
said I’ll look at it, and between the two of us we’ll make a decision.
 
So next.
 
Anything else you need?”

Shannon
exhaled.
 
“No, nothing,” she said.

“Then
get out of here,” Sal said, picking up his desk telephone. “Unlike some people
I know, I have work to do.”

Shannon
grabbed the papers and headed out.
 
She
had hoped to catch him in a busy mood and slip them pass him.
 
His signature was all they needed.

When
she exited, Gemma looked up from her cell phone.
 
She was seated in the outer office, where
Sal’s assistants sat behind their desks, responding to text messages.
 
She was waiting for Shannon to notify Sal of
her presence.
 
Not that this was easy for
Gemma.
 
It wasn’t.
 
She was nervous as hell, and filled with all
kinds of anticipation.
 
Was he still
angry with her?
 
Was he having second
thoughts about their entire relationship?
 
She could hardly wait to find out.

But
Shannon headed to her desk as if Gemma wasn’t even out there.

Melody,
another one of Sal’s assistants, looked at Shannon.
 
“How did it go?” she asked her.

“No
decision until Tommy returns.”

“That’s
a no,” Melody said disappointedly.
 
She,
like Shannon, was a senior assistant now and would reap the benefit of a pay
raise.
 
But now they had to wait.

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