ROMANCING THE MOB BOSS (9 page)

“Is who him?” Trina wanted to know as

she looked where Reno was looking, at the

parked Buick in front of them. When she saw

that Scotty was behind the wheel, she looked at

Reno. “I didn’t even see him over here.”

“That’s him then?”

The thought of Scotty waiting out here

for her spooked her. “Yeah,” she admitted.

“That’s him.”

Reno began unbuckling his seatbelt and

moved to get out of his car.

“Reno, what you gonna do?” Trina

asked him.

“I wanna talk to him.”

“Talk about what?” But he was already

getting out of the car. “Be careful.”

Reno got out of the car and walked

slowly toward Scotty’s Buick. He pul ed out a

revolver, kept it to his side.

Scotty didn’t know anyone was even

there until his car window was busted in with the

butt of the revolver and his door was being slung

open.

Trina nearly jumped out of her skin when

she saw the glass crash and Reno grab Scotty

by the catch of his col ar and sling him out

against the car.

“You know me?” Reno asked Scotty.

Scotty, who was terrified, could only

shake his hand. “No, I don’t know you. Who the

hel are you?”

“But you know my woman, right? You

know Tree?”

Scotty didn’t respond.

“You know Tree?” Reno said this louder,

slung him harder against the car.

“Yes,” Scotty admitted. “I know Trina.”

“If you ever,” Reno said, slamming him

even harder against the car, “even think about

coming anywhere near her again, anywhere

within eyeshot again, I’l kil you.” He put the gun

to Scotty’s temple. “Understand that, pal? I

don’t want no misunderstanding. I wil fucking

kil you!”

kil you!”

“I don’t wanna have nothing to do with

her,” Scotty pleaded. “I declare I don’t.”

“What you doing here then? What you

doing here?”

“I was, nothing man, I was just playing

around.”

“You don’t play with her. Not ever, you

understand me? She’s not play material.” Then

Reno attempted to calm himself down. He

released Scotty and stood back an inch. “I want

you out of Vegas as fast as this bucket can take

you. Got that, pal?”

“Yeah, sure,” Scotty said, glad to be let

go. “That’s what I was doing. Getting out now.”

“You get out now or you won’t be able to

later.” Then Reno motioned toward a car

parked on the opposite side of the street. “You

see that automobile over there?’

Scotty nervously looked.

“You see that automobile over there?”

Reno asked this with a raised voice.

“Yes, I see it, I see it.”

“The gentleman in that particular

automobile works for me. He wil personal y

see to you leaving Vegas and he and every

wise guy this side of the Pacific Ocean wil see

to you staying away from Vegas and, most

importantly of al , Trina Hathaway. Do I make

myself clear?”

“Yes, loud and clear.”

Without any warning, Reno rammed his

knee into Scotty’s midsection, causing Trina to

jump again. Then Reno slapped him across the

face with the butt of his gun, creating an

immediate gush of blood. Scotty bent over in

pain.

“What you waiting for?” Reno decried.

“Get the hel outta here!”

Scotty couldn’t get in his car fast

enough. Even with the glass stil on his seat

from his scattered window. He cranked up and

took off, caring less about the condition of his

car, or of his face. Blackmailing Trina to gain

money from some rich sugar daddy was one

thing. But up close and personal that sugar

daddy had mob written al over him. And Scotty

was no fool. Blackmailing the mob was

something completely different. Like suicide,

he thought, as he sped away from Trina and

Vegas forever, breaking every speeding record,

constantly looking back at the man tailing him.

“I thought you said you was just gonna

talk to him,” Trina said when Reno hid his gun

inside his jacket and got back into the car.

“I did talk to him.”

“You nearly kil ed him.”

“What, you love this guy or something?”

“Of course I don’t love him, what are you

talking about?”

“Then who is he?” Reno asked her.

“He’s an ex, al right?”

“Not the dude from Dale?”

“No. After him. We stayed together al

of one month. When I found out he wanted me

to turn tricks for him, I took off. End of story.”

Reno glanced at her breasts. “You slept

with him before?”

“He was my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Trina said, wondering why that

seemed surprising to him.

But Reno only shook his head. “You

sure can pick’em,” he said as he cranked up,

and then drove off.

Trina couldn’t believe he had said that.

Because it was the same thing Jazz had said.

Because her picking skil s pertained to him too.

And that, more than any rebound relationship

she ever had with Scotty Labaray, was what

was worrying her.

+++

The next morning, when Jazz dropped by

and Trina clued her in on what happened with

Scotty last night, they both agreed that

something wasn’t adding up.

“You would think the owner of the

PaLargio would be a button-down, straight-as-

an-arrow dude,” Jazz said. “Not some badass

with an attitude.”

They were in Trina’s living room,

drinking coffee and seated on the sofa. Jazz

had just taken her old man to work and decided

to drop by Trina’s place before heading back

across town.

“I hear ya’, girl,” Trina said, stil in her

“I hear ya’, girl,” Trina said, stil in her

robe, stil wet between her legs from Reno’s

pounding less than an hour before Jazz

dropped by. He was dressed and ready to

leave at the time, but he took another look at

Trina’s naked body and was on her again.

“And I mean badass,” Jazz continued.

“That man of yours, that Reno, he seems like a

badass from way back.”

“But what’s strange,” Trina said, “is that

when you see him at the PaLargio he’s al

business. He’s almost a different person. But

I’ve seen him lose his cool twice, J, away from

the PaLargio, and it was kind of scary.”

“Especial y since both times had to do

with men bothering you,” Jazz reminded her.

“Maybe it’s not so much that he’s just violent, but

that it’s al about defending you in his mind.”

Trina shook her head. “I don’t know

about al that. It just seems like he can’t help

himself.” Then she exhaled.

“Does he,” Jazz started and then

stopped. She tried again. “I mean, has he,

have y’al , you know?”

Trina frowned. She knew what Jazz was

hinting at but she wasn’t at al sure if she wanted

to go down that road with her. “Have we what?”

“Fucked, okay? Is that clear enough for

you?” Trina laughed. “I was trying to be

delicate,” Jazz added, laughing too.

“I’m not about to let you get al up in my

business that deep,” Trina said. “But what

difference would that make, anyway?”

“It’l explain why he beats up on men for

you. He done tasted that brown sugar.”

“I been thinking about researching him,”

Trina said, ignoring Jazz’s conclusion. “Maybe

Google him or something.”

“Now we’re talking,” Jazz said, rubbing

her hands together like some mad scientist.

“Let’s Google his ass!” Then her smal eyes

began to scan the room. “Where your computer

at?” she asked.

“What computer?” Trina asked.

“What computer? Girl, don’t tel me you

ain’t got no
computer
! What Negro ain’t got no

computer in this day and age? No car, no

computer? You sure you black?”

Trina smiled. “It’s not that serious, Jazz.”

“It’s criminal is what it is. When are you

gonna join the modern world, child?”

“When the modern world starts paying

me a fair wage.”

“You start working at the PaLargio on

Monday. You gonna make the big bucks then.”

“Child, please. No I’m not. At least not

while I’m an apprentice. They starting me off at

12 bucks an hour.”

“That’s al ?”

“Until I learn the ropes and take on more

responsibility, yup. Of course once I’m a

manager, my salary wil be slammin’. But not

before then.”

“And Reno knows this?”

“Yeah, he knows. That’s what I mean

how he’s al business at the PaLargio. That’s

why I told you you gotta let me get my feet in the

door first. Reno might care about me and be

around me and al that, but when it comes to his

business? Reno don’t play that.”

Jazz laughed. Pul ed out her Blackberry

smartphone. “Wel ,” she said, “there’s more

than one way to skin a cat.”

And on Jazz’s Blackberry they did

Google Reno. They sat side by side on the

sofa, staring at al of the information. At first, it

was al about his business interests, al about

the PaLargio. But then there were articles

insinuating his connection to organized crime

types, nothing concrete, but a lot of
known to be

associated with
, or
has been rumored to have

a friendship with
, and on and on. Until they

happened upon a reference to his father,

describing him as “reputed mob boss Paulo

Gabrini.” Jazz looked at Trina when she saw

that reference.

“Mob boss, Tree,” she said. “Dang!

This says his father’s a mob boss! You see

that, girl?”

“I see it,” Trina said, her heart pounding.

“You done got yourself hooked up with

the mob, girl. The mob! This shit ain’t funny

anymore.”

“But they ain’t saying Reno involved in

the mob. Where do you see anywhere that says

Reno is a mob boss?”

Reno is a mob boss?”

“But they saying his daddy is. His own

daddy! Ain’t that enough for you?”

Trina didn’t respond to that. Because

she didn’t know if it was enough or not. It was

easy for Jazz to say get out now, quit while

you’re ahead, leave his ass in the dust. But she

wasn’t the one sleeping with Reno. She wasn’t

the one fal ing hard for a man like him. She

wasn’t the one who had a feeling that she had

herself a real man, a good man who wasn’t

perfect, but was perfect for her. It was easy for

Jazz and anybody else on the outside looking

in. But for Trina, who was on the inside, deep

down inside, it couldn’t have been any harder.

She saw Reno again that Friday night, when

he took her to dinner. After a lovely meal, where

he actual y tried to serenade her by singing

some tired Tony Bennett song, they ended up

back at her place. And, eventual y, in bed.

Oddly, they didn’t make love when they

got into bed. Odd for them because they never

ended up in bed without making love. But this

time he just wanted to hold her. He had had a

tough day, he said as they lay there, both naked

and in each other’s arms, and this “whole thing”

was beginning to get to him.

“What ‘whole thing,’?” Trina asked him,

her mind moving in many directions. Was he

talking about the PaLargio, the mob life,
them
?

“The renovations,” he said, “the new

construction, the grand opening of the west wing

coming up.”

Trina relaxed. It was al about the

PaLargio. But it did afford her an opening.

“You’ve always been in the hotel and casino

business?” she asked him.

“Not always, no,” he said, wrapping his

arm tighter around her. They were both on their

backs, staring up, and he had one of his hands

constantly flicking her nipple and squeezing her

breast, which let her know that they hadn’t had

sex yet, but they would.

“What made you go into this line of

work?” she asked him.

“It beat any other line of work. I saw an

opportunity, so I took it.” This line of questioning

was beginning to bother Reno. He knew he had

some explaining to do, but not here, not now.

“You said your father owned a

restaurant, right?”

“Trina!”

“I’m just asking.”

“Yeah, he owned a restaurant, al right?