Liz wanted to be Miss Sophisticated and keep her eyes straight and unfazed. But she also wanted to wave goodbye. She even turned to wave goodbye. But Tommy was already heading back toward his luxurious plane, his suit coat fanning around him in the stiff Persian Gulf wind, his duty done. And a sadness came over Liz. She would rather stay with him instead. But she had a duty to perform also. Promises to keep and miles to go and all of that. So she chalked it up to some passing fancy the way she always did. And was about to say his loss the way she usually verbalized it. But not this time.
“My loss,” she said instead, and sat back in the comfort of the leather seat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rikki Lowe stood at the big bay window inside Tommy Gabrini’s kitchen, and watched him play with his little girl in his massive, private backyard. The chef was preparing dinner, and the housekeeping staff were sweeping and dusting and doing what maids were hired to do, and although Rikki’s job was to watch Destiny Gabrini, she couldn’t stop watching Destiny’s dad. Could a man be more attractive, she mused. And Rikki was no slouch either. She was in her mid-twenties, was blonde and blue-eyed and felt she was as pretty as pretty could get. She had more suitors than she could keep track of. But Tommy Gabrini was the top of the food chain to her. She wanted a taste of that.
This was only her third time working at the Gabrini compound. The other two times he wasn’t around at all. Today marked her first chance to see the man in the flesh, not just on the internet, not just from some picture. And boy was she impressed!
She was the back-up Nanny, the person called in whenever Miss Fletcher, the regular Nanny, or Henry, Mr. Gabrini’s House Manager, weren’t available to watch the child. One was off and one was sick today and although Mr. Gabrini had every intention of being home all weekend, he apparently lived the kind of life where he always had to have somebody in place in case he suddenly had to leave. She was thoroughly investigated for the gig, as if she was applying for a job with the FBI or some big deal company like that. But even after all of that extensive investigating, she rarely got the call.
But today, on this beautiful Saturday, the two babysitters Tommy trusted most, Henry and Miss Fletcher, left the gate wide open for Rikki by the simple fact that they weren’t there. Her goal was to go through it. Her goal was to replace both of them and become the go-to girl in the daughter’s life and, ultimately, in Mr. Gabrini’s life.
But first she had to have some serious face time with the man. She was still calling him Mister Gabrini for crying out loud. What man would want to be with a woman who didn’t have the nerve to call him by his first name? But she had to get that baby girl out of the way, and that wasn’t going to be easy. Because that two-year old kid was running.
She was running in that big backyard as if it were her private Disney World. She ran like it was her first time running. Tommy was chasing his daughter, and she was laughing and laughing every time he touched the back of her shirt and nearly caught her. Then she’d grin so hard that she’d fall on her rump, get back up, and run some more. Tommy was chasing, and was pretending to nearly catch her, all over again. It was boring as hell to Rikki, but those two were having the time of their lives.
Then, when the running was all over, they sat at Destiny’s little patio table and played with her little tea set. It was amusing to see him sit at that tiny table drinking pretend tea and allowing his daughter to entertain him the way her mother undoubtedly taught her. But again it was boring as hell to Rikki, as that little playtime seemed to go on forever too.
Then finally, an hour or so later, they were on the lounger. Tommy was lying prone, reading over some documents on his iPad, and his daughter was lying on him and was playing in his hair. But she was sleepy. Her eyelids were getting heavy. It would take another five minutes, but she finally took her busy ass to sleep.
Now it was Rikki time. She had already planned it out. It was a breezy day. Wearing a pair of short shorts and a halter top wasn’t out of line at all. So she began to leave the kitchen. It was time for her to make an appearance on the patio.
When she left the kitchen area, the white chef, who was preparing the meal, shook his head. The black housekeepers, who were dusting and vacuuming, knew exactly what he meant.
“She’s wasting her time,” the chef said loudly, and the maids all laughed.
But Rikki would beg to differ. She felt she had all the attributes a man like Tommy Gabrini craved. Blonde? Check. Blue-eyed? Check. Skinny? Check. Pretty? Checkmate!
Outside, instead of reviewing contracts on his iPad the way he usually did, Tommy found himself reviewing the history of Kutana magazine, from its’ modest beginning five years ago when Liz Logan opened its doors.
But Kutana, Tommy also discovered, was struggling these days the way most print publications were. He couldn’t find any in-depth financial statements online, but all indications was that she was surviving; that she was able to pay her staff on time, and keep the lights on at her headquarters in Chicago and bureaus around the globe. But what was also clear was that Kutana hadn’t turned a significant profit in years.
He found where she was interviewed by the Chicago Tribune and the reporter asked about Kutana’s print division’s viability when most of their success was from the online version. Liz chose to focus on Kutana’s durability and uniqueness. Which wasn’t the question. What Tommy didn’t understand was why, from strictly a business standpoint, she didn’t close the doors on her print division altogether.
What he also couldn’t understand was why he couldn’t forget about Liz Logan! Damn, how she disturbed his peace! It had been nearly three weeks since he last saw her, but yet almost daily she’d cross his mind. Last week, when he saw a picture of her at some online celebrity magazine attending a gala with some big time Hollywood producer, he actually felt some kind of way about that. Maybe even a twinge of jealousy, if he were to admit it. Which, he knew, was nuts! She was gorgeous, and her sex was amazing, but he was still the same man who wasn’t going through any more female drama for as long as he lived. On that he was firm.
But yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about Liz.
“She’s asleep I see,” Rikki said with a smile as she approached him.
Tommy glanced down at his little girl. “Yeah,” he said, and went back to reading his iPad.
“Shall I take her upstairs to bed?” Rikki asked.
“No,” he said. “I want to hold her.”
Good, Rikki thought. Perfect! Then she sat on the edge of the lounger beside Tommy’s. “You get her, what? Every weekend?”
“And the summer and holidays, yes.”
Rikki crossed her legs. She had as smooth and as nicely tanned legs as he’d ever care to see, she felt, and she was showing them off. “It must be hard being divorced. I’m divorced, I should know. I have full custody, but my ex gets my daughter every weekend. What I love about this job is that, when I do have my child, I can still bring her to work with me.”
Tommy looked at her. “You like that?”
“I do, yes, sir.” Now that he was looking those gorgeously odd, greenish-blue eyes at her, she ran her hand down between her breasts. “I love it in fact.”
“Your daughter is five, correct?”
Rikki smiled, ran her hand between her breasts again. “Yes! How did you know?”
“I know everything about the people hired to watch my daughter.” He stared at her. “Everything.”
Then Tommy went back to reading his iPad and holding onto his baby. Rikki didn’t like the tone in his voice, and she gave him a nasty look when he looked away from her, but maybe he was some kind of freak who got his kicks talking harshly to women. She didn’t know! But she was going to find out. She wanted herself a rich sugar daddy. And a good looking one to boot? She kept up the seduction.
She leaned back on the lounger and began shaking her crossed leg. “You don’t know everything about us,” she said. “You can’t possibly know everything. For instance, I’d bet you didn’t k
now that I once worked for the Green Bay Packers. I was on their official cheerleading squad when they won the Super bowl. I personally knew Bret Favre and everything! You didn’t know that, did you?”
Tommy didn’t look up, but she could tell his eyes stopped reading. And he hesitated for some reason. Then he began reading his iPad some more. “No,” he said.
“Well I was,” Rikki said with a smile, shaking her leg even harder, a little disappointed that he wouldn’t look at her. “All the guys on the team just loved me.” She decided to go there. “And how I made them feel.”
Again she could see where Tommy stopped reading. But again, he kept reading again and never looked up at her. It was infuriating! Didn’t he get it? She was offering up her wares for free! What more did he want?
She decided to go for broke.
“Oh no!” she screamed and jumped up. Tommy looked up then. “A bug is in my shirt!” she cried hysterically as she began jumping up and down and shaking her little halter top. She was stunned that he hadn’t even bothered to stand up as she jumped. Now she felt like a fool. But she wasn’t going to back down. She went harder.
“I hate bugs! I hate bugs!” And then, since she was all-in by this point, she flung her blouse over her head completely, revealing her braless, big, nearly white from lack of sun, bare breasts. Then she began rubbing all over them and turning them toward Tommy. “Do you see anything?” she asked him.
Tommy looked to make sure the commotion hadn’t awaken Destiny. “No,” he said. Then he looked at her. He stared at her with eyes that showed, not his lust, but his displeasure. “Go clean yourself up,” he said.
Rikki was stunned. What was wrong with this man? Was he gay or something? How could he not want her?
She put back on her halter top and headed back inside the house. As she walked through the kitchen, no one looked her way. They continued to do their work. But after she left the kitchen area and headed toward the servant’s bathroom beneath the stairs and down a long corridor, laughter broke out. The maids and chef nearly fell out laughing.
Although it seemed obvious that they were laughing at her little display, Rikki chose to look at it differently. They were just jealous that they didn’t have her looks and body. They were just jealous that they couldn’t even dream of seducing anybody. They, she decided, were just jealous.
And as she stood in the bathroom, and looked at herself in the mirror, she smiled. He saw her breasts. Say whatever they wanted, laugh all they pleased, but the man saw her breasts. That, to Rikki, was a start.
She reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled out the joint she had brought with her. She put down the commode top, sat on it, and took slow drags on her blunt. For nearly fifteen minutes she stayed in that bathroom, smoking her joint and chilling, and thrilled that she was making money and progress too. He behaved like some prude today, but he was a man. He wasn’t going to resist her for long.
But when she finished her chill session, flushed the remaining joint down the toilet, and headed out of the bathroom, she was surprised to see her employer sitting in the high-backed chair that lined the corridor.
“Mr. Gabrini,” she said in a shocked voice even she couldn’t fake. Did he want some now? Was he that kind of man? He played cool in front of people, until he could get her alone. She smiled at the prospect! “You came to make sure I was okay?”
“I came,” Tommy said, rising to his feet, placing his hands in his pockets, “to fire you.”
Her heart dropped. She was expecting to be fucked, not fired! “Fire me?” she asked.
He looked her dead in the eye. “You’re fired,” he said. “A security officer is waiting for you at the front door. Leave now.”
And Tommy, a man of few words, left.
Rikki just stood there. Stunned. She was so stunned, in fact, that she burst into tears. How could such an innocent little prank go so wrong? She didn’t mean anything by it! How could she have misjudged him so completely?
But when Tommy made it to the end of the corridor, he turned around. Her tears didn’t faze him. “And Miss Lowe,” he said.
She looked at him. “Sir?” she asked. She was very contrite now.
“The Green Bay Packers do not have official cheerleaders. They’re one of the few NFL teams that do not. You might have been cheering up a storm and doing the football team, but it wasn’t that football team.” His voice turned stern. “Get out now, Miss Lowe,” he ordered her.
She wanted to beg, but she knew that would be futile. She hurried up the corridor, wiping her tears away.
The convoy of Humvees drove quietly along the winding, dusty roads. Liz Logan rode shotgun in a bullet-proof vest and helmet inside the third of the five military trucks. The driver was a commander she didn’t know personally, but she knew his boss, the general, very well.
They were in Iraq, and she was the only print reporter imbedded with the military advisers on patrol inside the Anbar Province. The war was supposedly over. The American advisers were there merely to train the Iraqi military personnel to stand up, rather than stand down the way they did when ISIS entered the Mosul region and took over. As the publisher of an international affairs magazine, Liz always had to approve all reporter assignments that involved going on any patrols with the military. Her reporters’ firsthand accounts often riveted their readers and always spiked sells, and she had to be convinced that the reporters they were sending on such assignments were top rate. But between the many wars and unrest all over the Middle East, particularly the violent clashes in Syria and Libya and Egypt, she had no reporters left to imbed. And whenever that happened, whenever her magazine was unable to supply the demand, she would go herself.
“Is it always this quiet?” she asked the commander as they rolled along the bumpy road. She spoke unnaturally loudly as the sound of the truck’s engine and the toss and turn of the rugged terrain made it impossible to be heard otherwise.
“It’s been fairly quiet lately, yes,” the commander responded to her, equally. He was a man in his twenties. He was younger than Liz.
“ISIS is in a battle with the Turks right now,” he continued. “This gives us some breathing room for training. And the Iraqis need a lot of training.”
Liz was sitting beside him, and he was practically screaming as he spoke, but she could still barely hear him. She leaned toward him. “Some Republicans in Washington, like Senators John McCain and Lindsey Graham,” she said, “have complained vociferously that you guys really represent boots on the ground, even though the president has promised the American people that there will be no boots on the ground. They say you guys are listed as advisors to the Iraqi army only, but when the rubber meets the road you are and will always be fighters first. I.e., boots on the ground. Is their summation accurate, commander?”
The commander gave her a knowing smile. “We’re soldiers on military patrol,” he said. “You have my permission to read into that whatever you wish. In fact, I encourage it.”
Liz looked at him. She wondered if the president knew that his commanders in the field were winking and nodding at the press, showing a level of disrespect for him as commander in chief that she’d never seen previously. It was as if this guy agreed wholeheartedly with Senators McCain and Graham, and wanted her to know. She wrote it down exactly as he had said it.
Boom!
The sound was so loud that it shook their Humvee and tore through Liz’s eardrums.
Another Boom!
She saw the Humvee in front of them lift up, as if it had just been hit by a rocket-propelled missile, and before the second Humvee could react, it was flying up too. The commander inside her Humvee was screaming to side-wind, to retreat, to path-off, as he swerved away from the impending doom. He was also telling Liz to get down, but he didn’t have to tell her that. She was already down.
And he drove for their lives. He swerved violently off the projected path and onto even rougher terrain. But his deft moves made the fourth Humvee a direct target,
and it, like the first two, went up with a boom too. The fifth Humvee was able to also swerve off road as the truck carrying Liz bounced along the new terrain as if it was within seconds of losing all control. They were uncomfortable as hell, and terrified, but at least they weren’t in the path of those guided missiles.
But they were apparently in the path of buried road mines. And just when they thought the danger was over, they, too, felt the impact of a blast. The commander felt it first, as the front end lifted up. But then Liz felt it as well as she, and the entire truck, went up with a boom too.
When they landed, with the hardest thump, they were upside down.
CHAPTER NINE
Sal Gabrini stood just inside the open door of his brother’s office, and hesitated. Tommy was standing at his floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the Seattle skyline, with his hands in the pockets of yet another one of those designer suits he favored. Sal smiled. It had been a couple weeks. He hadn’t seen him since the Joneses anniversary party. It felt good to see him in the flesh again.
He walked on in and up beside his brother. He walked gingerly, like the thief in the night he sometimes had to be, and Tommy was none the wiser until Sal was actually upon him.
“Better be glad I wasn’t an ax murderer,” Sal said.
“I heard your ass,” Tommy said without turning toward him. “You walk like a damn army of people.”
Sal genuinely was disappointed in his skills. “Really?” he asked.
Tommy looked at him and smiled. “Just kidding. You’re good. I didn’t hear a thing.”
Sal smiled and he and his brother hugged.
When they stopped hugging, Tommy looked at him. He was in his usual double-breasted suit, looking sharp, but his eyes looked tired. “I thought you were going to meet with Larrabee in Scranton?” Tommy asked.
“I was. I am. I needed to come to town and check on my staff before I went anywhere else. They aren’t as disciplined as your staff. When I’m away they think it’s party time.”
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