Sal Gabrini: Burning Love

by Mallory Monroe

  Sal looked at her. She wore a dress today, a form-fitting red dress, and had her shapely legs cocked sideways. Her hair, with extra extensions to give it fullness, was bouncing with silkiness and curls down to her neckline. She was sexy as hell. Hell yeah he wanted to meet Ben. But he had to play it cool. “Why?” he asked.

  “Since he’s going to run my overall campaign,” Gemma said as she placed one of her heels on one of her feet, “and since I’m married to a man like you, I think he needs to know what all the fuss is about.”

  Sal smiled. “When?”

  Gemma stopped and thought about it. “The sooner the better,” she said. “What about tonight?”

  “Damn, Gem, that soon?” Sal tied his tie. But then he thought about it, and she was right. The sooner the better. He wanted to personally take the measure of this man since he, after all, was going to bankroll the entire campaign. “What place you have in mind for this meeting? Here?”

  “Not here. I know here is off limits. I know you prefer only family to come here. I’ll set it up at a restaurant.” Then she looked at her husband. “And Sal?”

  Sal looked at Gemma. “What?”

  “He’s a well-respected civil rights icon. Let’s not turn it into an inquisition. Okay?”

  Sal didn’t agree to that. He, instead, grabbed his wallet, keys, and cellphone, and was about to head to the Nursery. “What did your father want?” he asked her.

  “His usual spiel about seeing his grandbaby more. They’re always coming to Vegas to see him. They figure it’s high time we bring him to see them.”

  “They’re right, of course.”

  “I know. What about this weekend?”

  Sal nodded. “I’ll see if that’s possible. We both can use a break.”

  “Dad also wants you to call him. He’s thinking about going into the restaurant business. He wants your advice.”

  “My advice is no,” Sal said. “That’s a tough business.”

  “I told him. But he still wants you to call him. But back to dinner with Ben tonight,” Gemma said. “I need you to promise me that you won’t disrespect him, Sal.”

  “See you tonight,” was all Sal would commit too. And he left the room.

  Gemma smiled and shook her head. Sal was going to be Sal, and when it came to men and Gemma, he wasn’t taking anything off the table. On the one hand, Gemma thought as she put on her second heel, having a man feel that strongly about his woman was a rare and beautiful thing.

  But on the other hand, she thought again, his “feelings” could go so wrong so easily that a beautiful thing could turn really ugly really quickly.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Why do I feel like a kid in the principal’s office?” Ben and Gemma sat in the restaurant and waited for Sal’s arrival.

  Gemma smiled. “It won’t be as hard as that, Ben,” she said. “Especially since you did nothing wrong.”

  Ben looked at her. “You aren’t holding my decision to hire Cory against me?”

  Gemma raised her eyebrows and sipped her wine.

  Ben smiled. “I don’t blame you. That was a dumb thing he suggested, Gem. I was as shocked as you were.”

  Just thinking about it still boiled Gemma’s blood. “Leave my husband, please. He sounded like a fool.”

  “I know. He thought he was giving you sound advice. He thinks of people as dispensable. But we’ll be okay. I have a few other people in mind.”

  “Why can’t you do it?”

  Ben shook his head. “Too many cases. All of these cop shootings have us civil rights attorneys in high demand. But seriously, no. I couldn’t run the day to day the way a campaign manager could.” He placed his hand on top of hers. “But I’ll find you somebody special, you don’t have to concern yourself with that.”

  Gemma removed her hand from beneath his. “Another thing,” she said.

  Ben looked at her. “Oops,” he said. “What did I do this time?”

  “We’re colleagues, and have known each other for quite some time. We’ll friendly and behave that way. But my husband doesn’t know you like that.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I suggest you keep the friendly gestures, such as touching me in any way, shape, or form, as innocent as I know they are, to yourself.”

  Ben smiled. “You’re kidding, right? He can’t be that bad, Gemma.”

  “He’ll believe it’s inappropriate,” she said, refusing to smile. “And you know what? He may have a point.”

  Ben’s smile was gone. “He may have a point? What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve never come on to you like that. You know that.”

  “I know. But we’re both happily married people. Over the years, we’ve gotten friendlier and friendlier and that’s fine. I’ve let my guard down concerning you. But now that I’m running for D.A., perhaps I need to put it back up.”

  “Oh,” Ben said, and then smiled again. “I see your point. For appearances sake.”

  It was more like for her husband’s sake. But whatever floated Ben’s boat. “Right,” she said.

  Sal arrived some five minutes after their little conversation. And he didn’t like what he saw to begin with. They were in a booth, and Ben was sitting on the same side of the booth, beside Gemma. Who did this guy think he was?

  But it was nothing new to Gemma and Ben. They usually sat side by side in booths because they usually ate together only when they had shared cases to discuss. Gemma would handle the criminal complaint. Ben would handle the family’s civil complaint. But Gemma immediately saw the problem when Sal walked up.

  “Hello, Mr. Gabrini,” Ben said as he rose to his feet and extended his hand.

  “How are you?” Sal shook his hand.

  “I’m good,” Ben said jovially.

  “Excuse me,” Sal said as he moved around Ben’s big form. Ben, realizing the awkwardness and the fact that he was in the way of Sal reaching his wife, moved out of his way.

  “Hey,” Sal said and leaned over and kissed Gemma on the lips. Then he sat down beside her. He sat down exactly where Ben had been sitting.

  Gemma felt the awkwardness too, as Ben sat across from the couple and slid his glass of wine over to his side of the table. But she felt she should have realized that before. It was her fault. “Sorry about that, Ben,” she said to him.

  Sal frowned. “What are you apologizing to him for? He knew better.”

  “Sal!”

  “Don’t you Sal me.”

  “Yes, I will Sal you! Ben and I are always working on cases together. We have to sit in close proximity so that nobody else can hear our discussions. He sat beside me out of habit, and nothing else. It was a completely innocent mistake.”

  “Sure it was,” Sal said, unbuttoning his double-breasted suit, “and I’m Lady Gaga.”

  Gemma couldn’t believe he didn’t believe her. “It was innocent, Sal.”

  “Everything’s innocent,” Sal said. “That’s because you ladies may not get it.” He looked directly at Ben. “But we men do. It’s like a dog pissing under a tree to mark his territory. Warming a seat is the same difference. It’s all about making other big dogs know that they’ve been there too.”

  Ben smiled. “It wasn’t like that, brother,” he said.

  “It was exactly like that, brother,” Sal responded.

  Ben continued smiling, but Gemma could see he was pissed.

  But they all were pros and, after the waiter came and took Sal’s drink order, they got on with it.

  After Gemma told Sal all about Ben’s legal background, and some of the major civil rights cases he won, Sal was impressed. But still suspicious. “You’re a good lawyer,” he said. “But I haven’t heard anything about running a campaign. What experience do you have with politics?”

  “I’ve been around campaigns all my life,” Ben said in a tone that sounded almost dismissive.

  “I’ve been around women all my life,” Sal shot back. “But that doesn’t make me understand them any better than some monk somewhere. A
nd it sure as hell doesn’t make me an expert on them.”

  Ben smiled. Gemma was surprised at how tough Sal was behaving toward Ben. But she held her peace. For all of Sal’s crassness, he was making good points.

  Gemma looked at Ben. Because Sal was right. She was so impressed with his legal background and advocacy, she failed to realize his limited down-in-the-weeds political background. “I thought you told me you worked on campaigns,” she said to Ben.

  “I have!” Ben responded defensively.

  Too defensively for Gemma. “Which ones?” she asked. “You mentioned a couple senate races, but you said you mostly ran local campaigns. Which local ones?”

  Sal could tell Ben was offended. Served his ass right.

  “What, Gem,” Ben asked with what Sal saw as a fake smile, “are you auditioning me?”

  “No,” Gemma said. “But my husband is right. You’re one of the most successful civil rights attorneys around. And your work on behalf of the poor is legendary. But I realize you never showed me the curricula vitae I asked for. You never showed me your experience specific to running campaigns. I assumed you had plenty the way you described it.”

  “I do have plenty.”

  “Like what?” Sal asked him. “Name one campaign. Because my wife might think you can walk on water, but I know you can’t. I investigated your ass.”

  Gemma saw Ben’s entire countenance go cold. And he came clean. “I was involved in many campaigns while I was in college. Was I ever campaign manager or anything like that? No. But I pounded those streets. I knocked on doors. I handed out flyers. That’s why your investigation never turned up my name. I wasn’t in management. But since college, I’ve informally advised many campaigns. I know what I’m doing.”

  Sal stared at him hard. Gemma could live with his answer, but for some reason Sal couldn’t. For some reason, Sal felt as if this campaign fever of Ben’s had more to do with getting close to Gemma, than making her D.A. “What about the women?” he asked Ben.

  Ben looked at Sal. Gemma did too. “What women?” she asked. “Ben is married.”

  Sal smiled. “He doesn’t seem to think so.” He looked at Ben again. “What makes you so sure your extramarital affairs won’t make you more of a liability to this campaign than I am?” he asked.

  Ben was livid. “Okay, that’s it!” He angrily rose to his feet. “The day I allow the likes of you to lecture me on women and marriage is the day you can kiss my ass.” He looked at Gemma. She saw the regret in his eyes. “I still want to work with you. But only if this guy stays as far away from the campaign as humanly possible.”

  “Then you won’t be working with me,” Gemma said.

  Ben stared a moment longer at Gemma, then scowled at Sal. And then left.

  Sal smiled and shook his head. “What a plonker!” he said.

  But Gemma looked at him. “What women?” she asked.

  “Most of the female lawyers in that courthouse have seen that guy’s wee-wee at least once upon a time.” Then Sal’s look turned serious. “All of them except you. I didn’t want anybody to confuse you with the others.”

  It was at that moment that Gem realized just how out of her league she was. Running for public office. She must be mad! And it suddenly scared her. She leaned over to Sal and threw her arms around him, as tears appeared in her eyes.

  Sal embraced her with a big bear hug, and pulled her as close as he could. “Don’t you worry, baby,” he said, “I’ll find you the right people to run your campaign. And they won’t be lawyers and punks. They’ll be cut throat killers,” he promised, “but they’ll be winners.”

  But that alone woke Gemma back up. She moved back and looked at him. “Cut throat?” she asked. “Killers?”

  And then Sal smiled. And laughed.

  Gemma smiled too, when she realized he was joking. And hit him on his chest. “But you make a good point,” she said. “I’ve got to do my homework and hire the right people. People who not only share my vision the way Ben did, but have the experience to execute that vision into a victory.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Sal said.

  “And every name I pick,” she said, “I’ll give to you to investigate.”

  “If I say no, it’s a no go?” Sal asked.

  “If you say no,” Gemma said, “I’ll look at it. Closely. But I’ll have to be the one who makes the final decision.”

  Sal looked at his wife. He wouldn’t like it if she was a weakling anyway. “Good answer,” he said.

  But as Gemma smiled, and talked about where she could begin to look for the right people, Sal noticed it. He would have missed it had he not been a trained eye. A guy who had been sitting five tables over was now sitting two tables over. What was the big deal? But Sal had also noticed that another guy, in a blue baseball cap, had also moved. And both had moved closer to he and Gemma.

  And as soon as the guy in the cap, and the guy two tables over suddenly rose to their feet, Sal simultaneously shoved Gemma’s head down onto his lap and pulled out his Glock. He was firing just as they were pulling out their own weapons. He hit table man twice and the guy in the cap three times. As the crowd in the restaurant screamed and fled in terror, both men dropped dead.

  “Let’s go,” Sal said urgently to Gemma, and they both hurried out of the booth. Sal kept his weapon drawn as they ran through the restaurant, out of the front door, and to the parking lot where their cars were parked.

  Sal’s men were out in force too, as they began firing on a car of men who were about to fire on Sal and Gemma.

  Sal, however, was singularly focused. He was going to get his wife out of this alive if it was the last thing he did. “You drive,” he ordered her as he continued to point his gun at every moving target and escort Gemma through the parking lot. Gemma automatically ran to her Aston-Martin, because she knew exactly how to floor that machine. They jumped in, and as Sal’s men continued in a gun battle, she took off.

  “You think there’s more of them?” she asked anxiously as she flew out of the parking lot.

  Just as she asked it, a volley of shots was fired at her car from a car that was just driving up, as if they were the backup plan in case the hit at the restaurant didn’t succeed. “Yes!” Sal answered and fired several rounds.

  “Get Reno on the horn!” Sal ordered as he held the car at bay, and Gemma immediately pressed Reno’s icon on her car phone screen.

  “Tell him we’re on our way to the PaLargio,” Sal said. “This shit is big as a motherfuck. Whoever’s behind this ain’t bullshitting!”

  And Gemma floored it, even as she spoke to Reno.

  By the time she made it to the PaLargio, they had three additional cars following them, with a couple nearly overtaking them they were all driving so fast. She did as Reno instructed and hurried around to the backside, to the PaLargio’s private entrance reserved only for Reno and Tree, and family like her and Sal.

  The gate lifted, and Sal and Gemma drove through. The three cars behind them drove through too, shooting and killing the one guard on duty. This was too easy, they had to have been thinking. Gemma certainly was thinking it.

  But her thought changed dramatically when, as soon as she pulled up to the garage entrance just as Reno had told her to do, and as soon as the garage door lifted, Reno Gabrini and an army of men came out with their sawed-off shotguns and every imaginable weapon. Gemma floored it and drove into the garage, as Reno and his men came out. They began firing at the three cars so decisively, round after round after round, all in rapid succession, that all three cars began backing up, swerving around, in a lame attempt to get away.

  But there was no getting away. Reno and his boys didn’t stop firing until every one of those men had been hit. Except one.

  “Save him!” Reno yelled, when only one was left, and his men spared the lone survivor.

  Reno’s men ran outside the gate, to make sure this wave of gunmen was the last wave, and Reno, his gun still drawn, went up to the last man alive, who was in one
of the now-disabled vehicles.

  He put the barrel of the shotgun into the man’s mouth. “Who?” he asked him. No other word. Just who. Then he removed the shot gun from the man’s mouth.

  It was enough. The guy started singing like a canary. “Mouse,” he said. “I work for Mouse.”

  Reno knew Mouse was AWOL. Sal had told him so. “Where is Mouse?” Reno asked.

  “I don’t know,” the man said.

  “Well that’s too bad,” Reno responded, and lifted his shotgun again.

  “In his trap,” the man said quickly.

  Reno knew where he meant. Mouse’s trap was a bolt hole in L.A. But Reno also knew the guy was lying to spare his life. They had men camped out at that place even as Reno stood there.

  “Not that trap,” the man said nervously. “He’s got one nobody knows about.”

  “Then how do you know about it, motherfucker?” Reno asked.

  “Because,” the guy said nervously. “I’m his son.”

  Reno stared at the kid. “Where’s this new trap?” he asked.

  “I’ll take you to it.”

  “You aren’t taking me anywhere. Where’s this new trap?” Reno asked again.

  And the kid was so nervous he couldn’t think up a good lie. Reno shot him through the head.

  One of his men ran back over. “What did he say?”

  “Mouse sent him.”

  “Did he say where Mouse was?”

  “He said he’s holed up in some new trap that nobody knows about.”

  “Then how would he know?”

  “He claimed to be his son.”

  Reno’s man smiled, and then laughed. “What a fool,” he said.

  Reno agreed. “The cops will be here shortly. Make it look good,” he said, and headed back into the garage.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  After dealing with cops nearly all night long, and after Reno and his men, Sal and his men, and Gemma had all been questioned, it was clear what the ruling would be. It was a robbery gone wrong. At last that was what they wanted the cops to believe. And the cops bought it. Easily. No charges were to be filed. They were victims protecting themselves. Although the cops, they knew, hated to admit it.