Romancing Sal Gabrini 2: A Woman's Touch

by Mallory Monroe

  “Yeah, and you saved his life,” Tommy pointed out. “You shot that guy because he was going to shoot Patty. I call that even. You don’t owe him shit.”

  “Yeah, well, he thinks so. And you know what? I think so too. They would have thrown the book at me if he would have snitched. He didn’t snitch. I owe him, Tommy.”

  Tommy exhaled. “That’s my Sal. Always looking out for everybody else.”

  “That’s a fucking lie,” Sal said and Tommy laughed. “Making me sound like I’m some do-gooder or something. Some good Samaritan. I ain’t none of that. So don’t even try it.”

  Tommy was still laughing. “Yes, sir, Salvatore. I won’t even try it.” Then his laughter eased. “So what about Patty? Did he get lost?”

  “Too lost. I had that fucker Chazz and his men tail him, but Chazz lost him.”

  “That’s not like Chazz.”

  “He wanted me to throw more jobs his way, so I threw him that job. Real simple. But he blew it. I had to call Will in, but he hasn’t made much difference either. They met with me this morning.”

  “And the fact that you had to deal with Patty is affecting Gemma’s relationship with you?”

  “Not because of Patty, no. She don’t know what went down, and if I can help it she won’t know. But . . . It’s not fair for me to want her. A good, honest, hardworking woman like her. Sometimes I wonder if I should just . . .”

  “Call it quits?”

  Sal nodded. “Yeah.” Then he frowned. “But I can’t. That love thing, you know?”

  Tommy laughed. “Yeah. That love thing.”

  “So what’s the answer?” Sal asked his big brother.

  “Don’t quit, that’s for sure. You need Gemma, and you’d better not mess that up, Sal.”

  “Whatta you, my mother? Why would I mess it up? I won’t.”

  “Don’t start craving those hookers again and mess up with that good woman.”

  “You’re one to talk, but go on.”

  “I never dated hookers,” Tommy made clear. “A couple of tricks, but never hookers.”

  Sal laughed.

  “But hang in there with Gem. She’ll come around to trusting you more. You just continue to give her reasons to trust you. Take some chances.”

  “I’m going to meet her parents. I call that taking a chance.”

  “That’s good news, Sal. I must say I’m surprised.”

  “It means a lot to her.”

  “So you’re no longer concerned that they may despise you and force her to choose?”

  “Hell yeah I’m concerned. Super-concerned. But she wants this. She thinks I’m not being up front with her otherwise. That I’m using her for her body or something and that’s why I don’t want to meet her folks, if you can believe that. I just have to pray that this meeting doesn’t go sideways on me.”

  “So when is it happening?”

  “Probably this weekend. Her mother is supposed to talk to her father and get back with her. But that’s why I’m hanging around. To get it over with.”

  “I think you’re worrying over nothing. They’ll love you in the end.”

  “Yeah, right. Mom and Dad hated my guts, but these strangers, her mom and dad, is supposed to love me? I’ll have to see that to believe it.”

  “Mom didn’t hate you,” Tommy said.

  “Beating me back with a stick and telling me to stay away from her? I’d call that hate. But anyway, I’d better get on with it. How are they behaving in my office? You’ve been checking on them?”

  “I haven’t, but some of my managers have.”

  “And?”

  “And Shannon’s ruling the place with an iron fist. She has it well in hand, they say.”

  Sal nodded. “Good.”

  Then they talked some more, said their goodbyes, and hung up.

  Sal got up. But just as he did he noticed something on the floor, barely under the bed. When he saw it was Gemma’s small red panties, the panties he had taken off of her this morning, he smiled. And picked them up. And he couldn’t resist. He smelled the seat of those panties. That smell, a very faint scent of her perfumed vagina, caused him to close his eyes in sweet remembrance, and sensual delight.

  SIX

  Twenty minutes later, in Gemma’s outer office, Curtis Kane, her secretary, and Barbara, her paralegal, were seated behind their desks. Both were African-Americans, both were attractive, both were cheerful. Barbara was on the plump side, Curtis bordered on too thin. It was a small office, a mere two rooms, and the front Plexiglas window was facing the two assistants. Their share of parking spaces were facing them too.

  Although Barbara was eating a sandwich and reading her text messages, Curtis noticed the Bentley when it drove up. A man in a light-blue double-breasted suit, with a pair of dark shades on what appeared to be a handsome tanned face, stepped out. And then the man started heading for their front door.

  “Look professional, Barb,” Curtis said. “A money client appears to be arriving.”

  Barbara looked over too and then quickly put away her sandwich. She pulled out a file.

  When Sal walked in and removed his shades, they both looked especially busy.

  “Good morning,” Curtis said with a grand smile. “May I help you?”

  “Yeah,” Sal said, looking around at the paneled walls. Then he looked at Curtis. “Who are you?”

  Barbara wanted to smile. “Excuse me?”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m the secretary-slash-receptionist here. May I help you?”

  “I’m here to see the. . . Miss Jones. Miss Gemma Jones.”

  “Certainly, sir,” Curtis said, picking up the phone. “May I ask who wishes to see her?”

  “Sal,” Sal said.

  Curtis waited for more, but Sal was looking around the room by then. Curtis therefore buzzed Gemma.

  “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but a Mr. Sal is here to see you.”

  “A who? Describe him?”

  Curtis lowered his voice. “Decent height, great body. Great hair.”

  “Great looking?” Gemma asked.

  “Very great,” Curtis said.

  Gemma laughed. “I’m just messing with you, Curt. I know him. Send him in, please.”

  Curtis looked at the phone and then hung up. “You may go back, sir,” he said to Sal.

  “Thanks,” Sal replied and headed for Gemma’s office.

  Barbara looked at him. “What was that about?”

  “She says she knows him.” Then Curtis thought about it. “You don’t think that’s the guy? That’s Reno Gabrini’s cousin?”

  “Could be,” Barbara said, and she and Curtis both smiled.

  “One thing you can say about Gemma Jones,” Curtis said, looking at that Bentley out front.

  “What’s that?” Barbara, pulling back out her sandwich, asked.

  “That woman up in there has herself some high standards. No broke brothers with plenty of loving and no bank accounts need apply.” Barbara laughed. “For real though,” Curtis added, with a finger snap.

  Inside the office, Gemma was handing Marsh back the extensive file he had given to her.

  “As you can see,” he said as he accepted the file back, “it’s a messy case. Two biological brothers suing each other. That’s never good.”

  “Yeah, it’s a mess, all right. But you have skills. I’m sure you have it well in hand.”

  “I have the law well in hand, but not the nuisances of this town of yours.”

  “To wit, the jury pool?” Gemma asked.

  “The jury pool,” Marsh nodded. “I feel like a slam dunk case is slipping away from me.”

  “That’s because, here in Vegas, there’s no such thing as a slam dunk case.”

  Her office door opened, and Sal walked in. When he did, Gemma smiled. “They told me you were out there,” she said.

  Marsh turned around when she said it, and then stood up.

  When Sal saw that the stud was in her office again, he hesitated. Th
en he began walking toward her desk, but his eyes remained on Marsh.

  “This is your first time at my office,” Gemma said. “Isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is,” he said, although he wasn’t interested in any small talk right now.

  Gemma smiled. “Sal, I want you to meet Marshall Denning. He’s an attorney.”

  “Call me Marsh,” Marsh said, extending his hand.

  Sal shook it. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, thank-you. And you?”

  “So you know my lady?”

  Marsh was surprised that he would be that blunt. Most men were hesitant to claim any one single lady. “Yes,” he said. “I know Gemma.”

  “He’s the guy I told you I met during that convention in Seattle.”

  “I know what you told me,” Sal said. “I also know you told me you didn’t know him like that.”

  “I don’t know him like that. He’s here for a consult. Marsh, do you think you could give us a few minutes?”

  Marsh didn’t like it, that was obvious, but he smiled anyway. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll wait in the waiting room.”

  Gemma nodded.

  “Nice meeting you,” Marsh said to Sal. “It’s Sal, right?”

  “Right.”

  Marsh gave him an extra look, and then he left.

  “The nerve he’s got. You saw the way he looked at me?”

  “Why don’t you have a seat.” Gemma wasn’t about to entertain his jealousy.

  Sal leaned over her desk. She leaned toward him and they kissed. He looked at her. “You tipped out this morning before I had a chance to get a good look at you. You look nice. Dainty.”

  Gemma smiled. “Thanks.”

  Then he sat down.

  “So,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “how did it go?”

  Sal knew what she meant. “It went.”

  “Ah, I see. No information for Gemma. Is that it?”

  “No information for Sal either,” Sal said, thinking about Chazz and Will and what little they had to report this morning. “Trust me.”

  Gemma didn’t respond. Apparently, if she expected to be with him, she was going to have to do a lot of trusting him. “I spoke with Trina this morning.”

  “Yeah? What did she want?”

  “She and Reno want to take us out to dinner and dancing. Apparently some new jazz club opened inside the PaLargio, and they want us to check out the set.”

  “When? Tonight?”

  “If it’s okay with you. I told her I had to get your okay first.”

  He liked that. “Yeah, it’s okay with me. It’s okay with you?”

  “It’s great with me. I always enjoy hanging out with Reno and Tree.”

  Sal began looking around.

  “They think I’m good for you,” Gemma added.

  “How about that?” Sal said absently, as he seemed more interested in surveying her office. “So this is where the brilliance happens?”

  Gemma laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but this is my law office, yes.”

  “So how are you doing with your business?”

  Gemma exhaled. “Champagne’s is finally breaking even.”

  “Not that business. This business. How’s it going with this business?”

  Gemma nodded. “It’s . . . going . . . great.”

  Sal looked at her. “Oh, yeah? You call it great?” He pulled a stack of mail out of his back pocket and tossed it onto her desk. “Then what’s this? Those don’t read so great.”

  Gemma frowned as she picked up the letters, or bills more like it. Then she looked at Sal. “You went through my mail?”

  “What went through? It was sitting on your desk at the house. I went in your office to make some phone calls, handle some business, and there they were.”

  Gemma was embarrassed. She began raking the letters into her desk drawer. “It’s nothing for you to be concerned with.”

  This offended Sal. “Oh, yeah?” he asked. “And who am I supposed to be?”

  “Sal---”

  “No, now, you say it doesn’t concern me. So tell me who do you think I am? Tell me.”

  Gemma wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t. “You’re my boyfriend.”

  “That’s right. I’m your man. You’re the first real girlfriend I’ve ever had, and I’m sure I’m the first real man you’ve ever had.”

  Gemma smiled and shook her head. “You are so humble,” she said sarcastically.

  “No girl of mine,” Sal went on, unable to joke around, “is going to have this kind of debt riding on her. I mean geez, Gem! Who don’t you owe?”

  “Now hold on, Sal. Just step off right there. I don’t have any frivolous debt. I haven’t splurged on anything in years. Yeah I bought me a nice car, and I have a nice house, but I could afford both when I first bought them. Have there been some unexpected downturns in the economy, and therefore some downturns in my income? Yes. Hell yeah. But I pay my bills.”

  “I didn’t say you didn’t pay’em. That’s not the issue and you know it. You’ve got too damn many of them. That’s the issue!”

  Gemma shook her head. “You can’t compare my situation to yours. You’re a wealthy man. I’m not wealthy. I just make a decent living, and sometimes, depending on the economy, not so decent. But I get by.”

  “Get by? You expect me to have my woman getting by? Those nobody females I used to fool with, that I didn’t give shit about, I still made sure they didn’t want for nothing while they were with me. They always came to me to take care of their debts. Yet you think I’m going to sit back and let you struggle? You?” He rubbed his forehead, and then exhaled. “It’s my fault. I should have known you would be too damn proud to come to me about anything. I should have went to you. I should have talked to you about it.”

  “You’re beating yourself up over absolutely nothing, Sal. People have debt, that’s just the way it is. We have mortgages and car notes. That’s how it works.”

  “Not with me it don’t,” Sal said bluntly. Then he looked at her. “You’re a lawyer. I always thought lawyers were whatta you call successful. I thought they made a great living. I thought you were doing better than this, Gem!”

  Those words hurt Gemma to her heart. Because they hit a chord. Because she knew her life, and especially her career, weren’t anything like she had hoped it all would be, on virtually any level. She frowned. “I’m sorry if you don’t approve,” she said, “but I’m doing the best I can do.”

  Sal realized what he had said. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, you should have told me about it. But bump it now. Here’s what we’re going to do. Since this is your bread and butter, we’ll start here. How much do you owe on this place?”

  “How much do I owe? Sal, I don’t own this building, are you kidding? I’m renting it.”

  “Not anymore you aren’t. You don’t rent your livelihood, you hear me? The owner decides he wants you out, then what? You have to relocate your business? Your business? I don’t think so.”

  “But . . .” This was becoming an overwhelming proposition for Gemma. “But what if the owner doesn’t want to sell?”

  “He’ll sell.”

  “But what if he doesn’t want to, Sal?”

  “Let me worry about that. What are you worrying about that for? He’ll sell.”

  Gemma could only imagine how Sal would make him sell. But that was just the start of her reservations. She had tons. “But it’s not just this office,” she finally said. “There’s three other businesses attached to this building. He owns all four businesses.”

  “And after he sells, you’ll own all four. Yours and the three others. It’ll be income coming in for you. Bad economy income.”

  Gemma was floored. How did she accept such a gift? But how could she turn it down? She was struggling, no doubt about that. But for Sal to suddenly want her to buy and be responsible, not just for her own business, but for three others? When in the world would she have time for all of that? And the debt she would ow
e, maybe not to any creditors, but to Sal.

  “I can’t allow it,” she said, shaking her head.

  “You can allow it.”

  “No I can’t. I can’t be beholden to a man like that.”

  “What man? I’m not just some man.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “And you won’t need to be beholden to me. I’m not loaning you anything. I’m giving it. You won’t owe me nothing. Not a dime, not a thank-you. Damn, Gem. This is the least I can do for you.”

  Gemma stared at him. The idea that he could make her debt free? But she couldn’t do it. What if their relationship soured? What if he left her? “I’ll agree,” she said, “but only on one condition.”

  Sal looked at her suspiciously. “No conditions, Gemma.”

  “One condition, Sal, or I can’t, in good conscience, accept it.”

  “Okay shoot. What is this one condition you insist on having?”

  “You have to allow me to pay you back for every dime you give to me. I wouldn’t argue if you made the loan interest free, which would be great, but it has to be a loan, Sal. I can’t accept it any other way.”

  Sal studied her, and he didn’t respond.

  “Is it a deal, Sal?”

  “No. I’m not loaning money to my woman. No.”

  Gemma nodded. “Okay. Then we should keep things just as they are. We promised that we would take this relationship slowly.”

  “I am taking it slow.”

  “Offering to pay off all of my debt isn’t taking anything slow.”

  Sal smiled. “That’s not slow, hun?”

  “More like lightning fast, Sal. Maybe one day, but not yet. We aren’t there yet.”

  “Okay, I’ll loan it to you.”

  “Nope, the offer is off the table now. Let’s just keep it status quo for now, all right? When we get to the place where I can accept that level of generosity from you without reservation, we’ll both know it. But I don’t want the stress of you and me in business together. You don’t want me up in your business, and I would rather you not be up in mine. Not yet.”

  To Gemma’s surprise, Sal seemed to agree with her. “Okay,” he said. “The offer will stay on the table, but I get what you’re saying. I respect it.”