“But I’ve got to have a plausible counter to that argument or he’s going down. And I’m talking Life without the possibility of parole.”
“Why wouldn’t he take a plea deal?”
“He wouldn’t even consider it,” Gemma responded. “Like most of my clients, he thinks he can beat the rap.”
Barbara was a busty black woman who was more than just Gemma’s paralegal. She ran the entire office for her. And she always helped to put it all in perspective. “Don’t you just hate murder cases?” she asked.
Gemma smiled. “With a passion,” she said. “I lost one last week, and this one isn’t looking promising either.”
“But that’s not your fault, boss,” Barbara made clear. “You’ve been forced to defend a bunch of clients guilty as sin. You have no choice but to have a losing record. And considering some of those characters, I’m glad you do.”
Gemma smiled as the door to her office opened and Curtis Kane, her secretary, unceremoniously barged in.
“Did you see it?” he asked Gemma in a voice almost out of breath, as he hurried toward her with his phone in hand. “It’s just breaking.”
Barbara frowned. “Why didn’t you knock first, Curtis? I told you about that.”
“Did I see what?” Gemma asked him.
“About Mr. Gabrini,” Curtis said. “It’s just breaking.”
Gemma’s heartbeat began to quicken. She was always alarmed when Sal’s name was connected to breaking news. “What about him?” she asked.
“I just got an alert from Yahoo News,” Curtis said, “about this big racial discrimination lawsuit.”
Gemma frowned. “Racial discrimination?”
“It’s a big lawsuit employees of the Gabrini Corporation plan to file.”
Gemma was puzzled. “Involving Sal?”
“They named him by name, boss,” Curtis said. “They claim he never promoted any blacks or Hispanics to any management positions in his Vegas office, even though they were far more qualified than the whites he promoted over them. And I mean far more qualified, from what I’ve read.”
Gemma’s heart began to pound. “May I see it?” she asked, and Curtis handed over his IPhone.
The headline was crystal clear: The Gabrini Corporation Charged with Rampant Racial Discrimination in its Vegas Corporate office. Which meant the office run by Sal. Sal’s brother Tommy ran the home office in Seattle.
But Curtis kept talking even as Gemma continued to read. “They further allege,” he said, “that Mr. Gabrini would constantly tell demeaning jokes about blacks around the office, and would never discipline their white counterparts for using the n-word or leaving nooses at their desks or for calling Mexican-Americans illegals and ranting about how they want to take over and turn America into a third world country. They also said he would promote pretty blonde women over them if they gave him sexual favors. Oh, it’s bad, boss. The media is going to have a field day with this story!”
Curtis was a hyper gay man who always spoke as if the end of the world was near. Gemma ignored his hyperbole as she continued to read the story. Because it was there in black and white. Three African-Americans and two Hispanics. And the lawsuit? They wouldn’t even specify how much they wanted. Because they knew it wasn’t going to matter. Any self-respecting company with the worldwide reach of the Gabrini Corporation would settle out of court post haste. But they didn’t know Sal, Gemma thought, as she handed Curtis back his phone. Sal, she knew, wasn’t about to settle.
Gemma went around her desk and grabbed her purse and her own phone, and began to leave.
“Where are you going, boss?” Barbara asked. “We still have that deposition this afternoon.”
“Set it up for tomorrow,” Gemma said. “Whatever time is good for them. And clear my schedule for the rest of the day.”
Gemma knew what kind of man Sal was and what these kind of disgusting allegations could do to him. He needed her. Everything else had to take a backseat.
CHAPTER SIX
Sal, as CEO of the Gabrini Corporation, was on the phone all morning with nervous board members when the news first broke. Now Tommy, his big brother and the chairman of the board, Sal’s boss, was calling too. He was in Europe, but wanted to know if Sal was okay.
“I’m mad as hell,” Sal said as he walked around his office with phone in hand. “Who do they think they’re dealing with? But I’ll handle it.”
“I got a call from Reno,” Tommy said.
“Yeah, he called me too. He’s worried.”
“I’m worried,” Tommy said. “I haven’t had a chance to see the full story. But what’s the deal? They’re claiming discrimination?”
“Yeah, like I have time for that shit.”
“That’s not the answer I wanted to hear, Sal.”
“I didn’t discriminate against anybody. I didn’t let my employees hang nooses or demean people. I didn’t tell racist jokes. Nobody in my office has been going around doing any of that shit they claim. And they know it!”
“Have they isolated it to our Vegas office?”
“Vegas only,” Sal responded. “They’re targeting me.”
“But why? What’s the motive? Is it just money?”
“That’s the only thing I can figure. But they won’t be shaking me down and getting away with it.”
Tommy exhaled. “This is news we certainly don’t need.”
“Yeah, it threw me too.”
“What about the board? Have you heard from any members of the board of directors?”
“That’s all I’ve had time to deal with,” Sal responded with drain in his voice. “They’ve been riding my ass since the story broke.”
“I’m sure they’re going to want you to give a press conference and deny everything before our stock take any more tumbles. Because it’s starting to fall.”
“I’ll meet with the press,” Sal said. “But I need to talk to Gemma first.”
“Gemma doesn’t know yet? Damn, Sal.”
“What are you damning me for? The story just broke. I’ve been answering calls all morning, and not just from our board either, but from jittery investors and our lawyers too. As soon as I hang up from one, another one is calling. I’ve got three on hold right now. The press has parked outside of the building.” Sal walked over by the window and saw the herd of media in front of the Gabrini Corporation building. He quickly began pacing again. “This is getting crazy.”
Then he stopped and ran the back of his hand across his tired eyes. “I’ll call her as soon as I hang up from you,” he said. “Those nervous-ass investors will have to wait.”
“Talk to her before that press conference,” Tommy advised. “She knows how to calm your ass down. And that’s what’s needed here. Calm. A level head. No blow ups on TV. Our stock will plummet if you go that route.”
“I’m no fool, Tommy. I know what’s at stake.”
“So you’ve got it under control then? You’re going to talk with the lawyers and get this thing settled out of court?”
“I’ve got it under control,” Sal said. But he didn’t give a rat’s ass about talking to any lawyers. Nobody was running his name through the mud and expect him to settle out of court. He was taking whoever was responsible for this smear to court alright. His court. “You handle Europe. I’ve got my end covered.”
“Good enough,” Tommy said. “I’ll call you when I’m stateside again.”
“Okay, Tom,” Sal said. He knew Tommy wanted to add some term of endearment, like he loved him, but Tommy knew Sal was not that kind of man. Sal rarely said it, he showed it. They ended the call without any further words.
But when Sal walked back over to his big office window and looked out, his anger only inflamed again. The media was treating the news as if it was the biggest story in town and were already in a feeding frenzy for comments from anybody who would give them something to quote. An employee was trying to get through even as he watched, but it was near-impossible. The press had surrounded the perso
n. Sal looked harder, to see who it was, figuring it to be one of his top lieutenants the way the media seemed so determined. But when he realized it was actually Gemma trying to make her way through that circling pile of flesh, his heart fell through his shoe and his anger went through the roof. He took off out of his office, hurried onto his private elevator, and made his way downstairs, across the lobby, and out of the front door.
He bulldozed his way through the gaggle of reporters to make it to Gemma’s side. Gemma felt a flood of relief when she saw Sal reach for and grab her hand, and then hurried her through what she thought was an immovable press of people. And they were hurling questions at Sal left and right. Was he a racist? Why did he mistreat his minority staffers? How could a self-respecting black woman be married to a man like him?
But for Gemma’s sake, Sal ignored them. He wanted to cuss all their asses out, but he wasn’t going to put her through any more drama than the press was already putting her through. He pulled her against his muscular frame, held her hand tightly, and used his other hand to push his way, bully his way, through the crowd.
They didn’t speak to each other, for fear of being overheard. They made their way through the lobby, with Sal ordering his lobby manager to get more security out front, and onto his private elevator. And even then, it was a general conversation.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, as he pulled her closer against him.
Gemma nodded. “I’m okay.” She looked into his eyes. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
Sal attempted to smile. “Ah, you know me. These fuckers won’t get the best of me.”
But Gemma could see the pain in his eyes. He didn’t like this at all. She placed her arm around him. That was when he looked at her with that sincere, I-will-never-lie-to-you emotional look in his eyes. “None of that shit is true, Gemma,” he made clear. “None of it.”
Gemma studied him. And then nodded. “Okay,” she said.
“You believe me?” Sal asked, as if he were a child waiting for his mother’s approval.
“Of course I do,” Gemma said with no equivocation. “I believe you.”
Sal felt reassured, although he didn’t expect anything less from Gemma. But they didn’t discuss details until they were in his office, sitting side by side on his couch. Sal, in his business suit, was slouched down, with his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. Gemma, in her business suit, was slouched down too, with her legs crossed, beside him. But because she was worried about him, she didn’t view her role as his wife right now. But as his lawyer.
“Do you personally know any of the accusers?” she asked him.
“I know them. Some I know better than others, but I know’em.”
“Are they good workers, or terrible ones?”
“No, they’re good. I checked their personnel files. They’re excellent workers.”
“And you’ve had no problems with any of them?”
“None,” Sal admitted. “I tried to find shit, but nothing’s there. All of them have been exemplary employees.”
“Then what we need to find out is why would exemplary employees make such terrible accusations against you?”
“Money,” Sal said. “What else? The almighty dollar. I have it, and their asses want it.”
Gemma didn’t respond to that. It was never that simple to her.
Sal noticed her non-responsiveness. He looked at her. They were mere inches apart. He could smell her sweet perfume. “What is it?” he asked her. He respected her opinion above all others.
“I saw the video of their press conference,” she said. “Those employees weren’t just angry, they were hurt. They had a lot of hurt and pain in their eyes. Money may play a part in this, and a very big part, but I don’t think it’s just about money.”
“Then what is it about? I never did any of that shit they’re accusing me of doing.”
Gemma hated to ask it, but she knew the public would. “What about your staff?” she asked. “Their bosses? Could they be the problem?”
“No.”
“Are you sure, Sal?”
“Think about it, Gem. If all of that was going on, why didn’t anybody come to me? I have an open door policy. Why didn’t they let me know what was going on?”
“It could have been because they didn’t want to lose their jobs,” Gemma said firmly. “I’ve handled discrimination lawsuits in the past, Sal. It’s never cut and dry. If there was a hostile work environment, they may not have felt empowered to come to you.”
“So they sue me instead? And claim I’m the one who did all that stupid shit?”
“To get the attention and exposure their lawsuit needed, they had to loop you in. They had to show that you knew what was going on and turned a blind eye. They needed a perp. They needed to put a human face on their allegations. So why not get the top guy? That’s how they might have been thinking. They’ve decided to take you down.”
“Hell if that’s going to happen.”
“But that’s what they’re trying to do,” Gemma warned him. “And there may be some validity to their accusations. They’re just using you instead of individual managers.”
Sal ran his hands through his hair. “So what do you suggest we do?”
“Have you scheduled a press conference yet?”
“Not yet, but I know I have to.”
“Let me go in with you.”
But Sal, as she expected, immediately began shaking his head. “No way.”
“We need to show a united front, Sal.”
“We are united! This has nothing to do with us! I’m not parading you in front of those vultures as if you did something wrong. No way, Gemma.”
“I need to be by your side. I also need to do the talking.”
Sal frowned. “Get out of here! I’m not putting you in that position. They’re lying on me, that’s bad enough. I’m not letting them put any of this shit on you!”
But Gemma was not backing down. “I need to do the talking, Sal.”
Sal looked at her. She knew him better than that. “Why do you keep harping on that? I said no.”
But he could tell Gemma wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Was he missing something? “Are you saying you need to do the talking as my lawyer?” he asked.
“Not as your lawyer, no,” Gemma responded. “As your wife.”
“No,” Sal said, shaking his head. “No way, Gem. I’m not putting you through that. I don’t like the idea of my wife speaking for me. What’s wrong with my mouth? I can speak for myself.”
But Gemma was thinking a different way. “We need the optics, Sal,” she said. “I hate to say it, but we do. This isn’t about the press or what they think about your manhood. This is about the company. I need to reassure investors that, as a black woman, I have total confidence in you, since the allegations are along those lines. And I need to be clear. It could be a bloodbath on Wall Street if I don’t be clear. Our stock could be in freefall and never recover.”
But Sal was still against it. “I don’t want you in the hot seat,” he said. “I don’t even want them to bring up your name in this mess. I need to take care of this myself. I have to find a way to handle this myself. It’s not true, they’re lying, that’s what I have to tell the public.”
“You’re the accused, Sal,” Gemma explained. “They expect you to deny it. Your denials aren’t going to reassure anybody.”
“But you can reassure them?”
“Yes,” Gemma said firmly. “People know me here in Vegas. They know my reputation. They know I’m not going to stand by some hateful racist, they know I’ll never do that. I’m the only one who can reassure them that you’re not the man those accusers are making you out to be.” Then Gemma played hardball. “I have to do it, Sal. You may not like it, but I have to go on record defending your character as vigorously as I possibly can. We have no choice.”
Sal still didn’t like it, but he was nobody’s fool. Gemma was right. It wasn’t just about him anymore, but about the
business. A business, at least half of it, that she was going to inherit when his ass was dead and gone. He exhaled. And warned her. “Okay,” he said. “But if you play softball, if you try to give any credence whatsoever to those allegations, those press guys will eat you alive.”
Gemma almost smiled. “I can handle myself,” she said. “Trust me on that.”
And she did. At first. She and Sal stood at the podium in the press room on the fourth floor of the Gabrini Corporation, and she handled it just fine. The goal was to be extremely brief, so that the headline couldn’t be misconstrued.
“My husband is not a racist,” she said. She hated to even have to say it, but she also knew that sometimes the obvious had to be said. “Anyone who alleges he made racist remarks or allowed racist behavior to permeate his workforce is a liar. He does not run a racist corporation. He is not a racist man. We deny each and every allegation against him, and we deny it in no uncertain terms. We will fight these charges in a court of law and we will fight them stringently. There will be no settlement. No one will defame the Gabrini name and expect to be paid off. That is not going to happen. Thank you.”
But if Gemma thought she would give a statement and they could turn and leave, she was mistaken. The press pounced.
“How many minorities are in senior management positions in this building, Mr. Gabrini?”
“Don’t answer that,” Gemma whispered to her husband as she took him by the arm.
“How many?” another reporter yelled. “That question goes to the heart of their allegations, Mr. Gabrini. Why can’t you answer us?”
“Are you going to let your wife lead you by the nose?” said a third reporter. “I thought the Gabrinis were supposed to be tough.”
Gemma knew Sal wasn’t going to let that comment stand. And he didn’t. He broke away from her grasp and went back to the podium. She followed him.
“Trying to question another man’s toughness is beneath even you,” Sal responded to the hostile press. “My toughness has nothing to do with their lawsuit. It’s all just a money grab and you know it. My wife made it clear. I did not discriminate against anyone. I did not make racist jokes or allow managers to hang nooses. I didn’t do any of that shit they claimed.”
Sal Gabrini: His House of Cards Page 5
