Sal Gabrini 4: I'll Take You There (The Gabrini Men Series Book 7) (15 page)

Gemma
was still looking around, at the crown molding, at the cathedral ceilings.
 
“This house isn’t it.
 
It’s too . . . simple for Sal.
 
It’s too . . .”

“Ordinary,”
Trina said.

“Yes!”
Gemma said.
 
“Too normal for him.”

“You
are so right,” Trina said, as if she was just realizing it.
 
“Sal would go stir crazy in a place like
this.
 
You’re right.
 
Although, if you really want it, I’m sure
he’ll compromise.
 
It’s smaller, yes, but
that means it’s cheaper.
 
He still might
go for it.”

“But
it’ll be like settling,” Gemma said.

“For
him?”

“And
me,” Gemma admitted.
 
“Choosing this
house will be as if a man offered me the world, and I told him no thanks, I’ll
just take Manhattan, or Vegas, or Seattle.”

Trina
laughed.

“I’m
with Sal now,” Gemma said seriously.
 
“I
need to start behaving like it.
 
I’m
going to take the world.”

Trina
nodded her head.
 
“Okay now.
 
I’m not mad at you!
 
You’re in the big leagues now, you’re right
about that.”

And
later that night, when Gemma was in her home office reading over an inordinate
amount of law briefs, she decided to give him a call.
 
He rarely phoned when he was away on
business, but she was getting worried about him.
 
That phone call that sent him packing all
those days ago, was bad news.
 
She knew
it by his demeanor alone then.
 
She
removed her reading glasses and leaned back in her chair, and waited for him to
answer.

In
Maryland, Sal wasn’t relaxed in a chair, but was running across an open field,
outrunning Neeco and the rest of his men, as they chased and fired their
weapons at Rip himself.
 
But Rip and his
men jumped in the waiting car and the car sped off.
 
Sal’s men kept shooting as the car swerved
down the road, but Sal gave up.
 

He
leaned over to catch his breath.
 
He
placed his hands on his knees.
 

“Got
away again,” Neeco said, leaning over too.
 
“That motherfucker’s got more lives than a
got
damn cat!”

Then
Sal stood erect.
 
“We’ll catch his ass,”
he said as if he was certain.
 
“We’ll get
him.”

“It’s
a big world, Sal,” Neeco said.

“It
ain’t that big!
 
We’ll get him.”

And
Sal began heading back across the field to his own waiting car.
 
Neeco and the men followed him.
 
His cell phone didn’t start ringing until
they were in the car and heading back to their hotel room, to plot their next
move.

When
he saw that it was Gemma on the line, he answered quickly.
 
“Hey,” he said, a concerned look on his
flustered face.

Gemma,
back in her home office in Vegas, smiled.
 
Just hearing his voice made her feel warm inside.
 
“Hey yourself.”

“What’s
going on?
 
You okay?”

“I’m
good.”

There
was a pause.
 
Gemma could tell he was
uncomfortable with her calling him out of the blue like this, as if it had to
be something major or she should not have done it.
 
She suddenly felt uneasy.
 

“So
what’s up?” Sal asked.
 
Why are you bothering me
, was more in
tune with what Gemma heard.
 
Her friends
used to warn her not to expect too much from her man.
 
They used to insist that there was no way Sal
was going on all of those business trips without getting some while he was on
those trips.
 
Plenty of some
, one of her friends insisted.

“I
wanted to let you know that I’ve made a decision on the house,” Gemma said.

“The
house?”

She
could feel his frown.
 
She could feel his
displeasure.
 
He didn’t like to be
bothered while he was “working,” and she should have known better.
 
“Yes,” she said.

Another
pause.
 
He really wasn’t feeling this
right now.
 
Why did she call this
man!
 
“So you’re going to tell me your
decision now,” Sal asked, “or next year?”

“Look,
if it’s this a bad time, I can talk to you later.”

“No,”
Sal said.
 
And then she heard him
exhale.
 
“It’s alright.
 
I’m just . . . So what have you decided?
Found something better?”

“I
didn’t find anything better.
 
That’s what
I wanted to tell you.
 
I think we should
put in an offer on the big house.”

“That’s
what I’m talking about,” Sal said, although he didn’t say it with his usual
gusto.
 
“I knew you’d see the light.”

Gemma
smiled.
 
“It’s a wonderful home.
 
I think we can be very happy there.
 
Val said we can close as early as Friday if
they accept our offer.”

“Oh
yeah?”

“That’s
what she said.
 
I was stunned.
 
So when are you coming back?”

A
heavy sigh.
 
“Not for another few days
looks like,” he said.

“Ah
Sal, another few days?”
 
She couldn’t
hide her disappointment.
  
“It’s been
nearly a week already.
 
You said it would
only take a few days before you left.”

Her
comment angered Sal.
 
“Something came up
all right?
 
Whatta you think I’m making
this up?
 
You think I’m playing some
fucking game here?”

Gemma
didn’t like the sharpness in his voice.
 
“I wasn’t implying that your business wasn’t serious.
 
I was just telling you what you said before
you left.”

“That
was before I left, Gemma, damn.
 
Shit
happens!
 
Things changed by the time I
got here.”

“I
didn’t say things didn’t change. I
 
don’t
know why you’re tripping!
 
You didn’t
bother to phone me and tell me about these changes, so how was I supposed to
know, Sal?”

“There’s
nothing to know all right?
 
I’ll be there
when I get there.
 
End of
discussion.
 
What’s with you tonight?
  
I don’t need your bullshit tonight!”

“What
bullshit?” Gemma asked.
 
“And you can
watch your tone with me.”

But
her tone only heightened his.
 
“Watch my
tone?” he yelled.
 
“You want me to watch
my tone?
 
Well I’ll hang up this fucking
phone.
 
How’s that for watching my
fucking tone?”

And
he hung up.
 
Even his hang-up sounded
harsh to Gemma.
 
And just like that their
biggest issue was revealed.
 
That side
business of Sal’s was going to be the end of them before they got started if
they didn’t figure out a way to handle it better.
 
Sal told her all he could.
 
He told her that he had friends he sometimes
had to help.
 
Not just because of the
friendship, but because they were his “crew” members.
 
When Gemma asked why he would need to have a
crew to begin with, his answer was as cryptic as the need for the crew
itself.
 
“Things go sideways on you,” he
had said.
 
“You have to be prepared.”

And
that was the story of their relationship.
 
It would be straight and wonderful, and then things would go sideways on
them.
 
And they weren’t usually prepared.
 
Sal was under pressure.
 
Probably tremendous pressure.
 
And Gemma knew he always lashed out when he
was.
 

But
she couldn’t go along with his outbursts.
 
Not when they were directed at her.
 
She was never going to allow him to make her the depositor of his anger
when he should have been directing it at the person he was really angry
with.
 
She hated that he was under
pressure, and if he would just tell her what was going on she would do what she
could.
 
But he didn’t tell her a damn
thing.
 
Not about that side of his
business.
 
Not about that kind of
pressure.
 

But
she still worried about him.
 
It was as
if he asked her to marry him, and her concern for him, which was already high,
went sky-high.
 
But she didn’t phone him
back.
 
No man, not even Sal, was going to
hang up on her and then she was going to phone him back and apologize.
 
As if she provoked him.
 
As if she caused it.
 
As if she
deserved
it.

She
finished reading her briefs, and then went to bed.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The
next night and Gemma Jones was tired.
 
After a long morning in court and an even longer day at her office
seeing new clients and counseling old ones, she finally packed up her
paperwork, grabbed her handbag, and headed for the exit.
 
Her secretary and paralegal had ended their
workday nearly three hours earlier, and now it was nearly eleven at night.
 
She still had law briefs to read and another
court case to prepare for, but she was too tired.
 
She turned off her office light, turned off
the outer office light, and headed outside.

When she
stepped out into the cool night air, she was stunned.
 
Sal, looking sharp in his Tom Ford suit and
Ferragamo dress shoes, was leaned against the front of her BMW with his arms
folded and his legs crossed.
 
She hadn’t
heard from him since he hung up on her.
 
She didn’t expect to hear from him until he returned to town.
 
She was surprised that he was back
already.
 

She
was happy to see him.
 
She was always
happy to see him.
 
But she maintained her
cool.
 
She locked her office door and
then began her normal walk toward her car.
 
But if she thought she would get a warm reception from him, she was
mistaken.
 
He was just as cool as she
was.

Until
she made it up to him.
 
And he saw those
beautiful, sincere eyes.
 
And that short,
soft, natural hair.
 
And smelled her
lovely scent.
 
He didn’t mean for it to
happen.
 
He had every intention of coming
here to apologize to her.
 
But it
happened anyway.
 
He thought about her,
and the risk she was taking, and what could have happened, and his anger rose
again.
 
“What do you think you’re doing?”
he asked her.

Gemma
hesitated.
 
She didn’t know what he
meant.
 
“Leaving my office,” she said.

“At
what time, Gemma?”

Oh, that
, she thought.
 
“I had a lot to do, Sal.
 
I lost track of time.”

She
could tell he didn’t like that answer.
 
He started moving around.
 
“You
lost track of time?”

“That’s
right.”

“Look
around.”

“Sal---”

“Look
around!” he ordered.

Gemma
sighed, but she looked around.

“How
many people do you see around here?”

“You
already know the answer, Sal.”

“How many
people do you see around here?”

“Nobody,”
she said.

“No
fucking body!” he blared.
 
“Except my
wife!”

Gemma
started to say that she wasn’t his wife yet, but she knew that would only make
it worse.
 
“Is that the reason you came
back to Vegas?
 
To continue to yell at
me?”

It
worked.
 
Sal exhaled.
 
“No,” he said.
 
“It just drives me crazy when you don’t look
out for yourself.
 
And working alone
until eleven at night, and then leaving this office alone with nobody in sight
is a dangerous thing, Gem.
 
You’ve got to
cut this shit out.
 
And you will when you
become my wife.”

Gemma
couldn’t argue with good sense.
 
“You’re
right,” she said. “I should have been more careful.”

“And
I was wrong,” Sal said.
 
“I was upset
when you phoned, but it had nothing to do with you.
 
I apologize, Gem.
 
That’s why I came back.”

Gemma
smiled.
 
“Apology accepted.”
 

And
that was all it took.
 
They were on the
same page again.
 
Sal lifted her into his
arms, and held her, and when they stopped embracing, he kissed her lovingly,
with his big hand in the middle of her slender back.

At
first Gemma wasn’t trying to feel his newfound affection, but as he held her,
and she felt his arms around her, and on her, she couldn’t hold back
either.
 
She returned the affection.

They
sighed as his tongue entered her mouth and his lips intertwined with hers.

“I
didn’t expect to see you tonight,” she said between kisses.

“I
couldn’t stay away,” he responded, kissing her neck.
 
“I had my girl upset.
 
I had to make it right.”

He
was on her mouth again.
 
He didn’t know
why she turned him on so intensely, but she turned him on in the deepest
way.
 
His penis was throbbing just seeing
her again, and holding her again, and kissing her.
 

And
making it home wasn’t going to work.
 

“You
have two choices,” he said as they continued to kiss, and the heat continued to
rise.

“What
are the choices?”

“Your
car or your office.”

Gemma
leaned her head back as he kissed her down her neck.
 
And she knew what the answer was.

“Office,”
she said.
 
“More room.”

That
was all it took.
 
Sal put her down,
grabbed her by the hand, and hurried her back across the sidewalk to her office
door.
 
When they entered, they didn’t
bother to turn on the light.
 
Sal locked
the door back, she dropped her purse and briefcase to the floor, and he had her
back against the wall, her legs around his body, and they were kissing
again.
 
Even more passionately.
 
He was surprised himself by how badly he
wanted her.

He
unbuttoned her blouse and lifted her bra as he continued to kiss her.
 
She rubbed her hands through his hair and
messed it up so decisively that his messy hair was a turn-on for her.

And
then he was sucking her breasts.
 
“Yes!”
she hissed as he sucked her.

And
then it was time.
 
Sal hurried her over
to the nearest desk: Curtis’s desk.
 
He
tossed aside the few papers on that desk, laid Gemma on it, and flung her
panties down and off.
 

Then
he began to eat her pussy.
 
He knelt down
and caused her to bite her bottom lip as the feelings ripped through her.
 

When his
dick was straining to break free, he stood up, unzipped his pants, and freed
it.
 
Only to imprison it again, inside of
Gemma’s warm wet pussy.

Sal
fucked her with the certainty of a man who couldn’t get enough of his woman and
that wonderful, on-the-edge of cum feeling.
 
They stayed on the edge, both of them, as they made passionate
love.
 
And when the edge wasn’t enough,
and they came, Sal lifted her into his arms and held her tightly.
 
She was his.
 
He came back to town to make sure, despite their disagreements, that she
understood that.

“You
wanted to see me, sir?”

“You’re
the chef?”

The
thin, stooped man stood proud.
 
“That I
am, sir.”

“Then
I want to see you.
 
Taste that.”
 
Sal shoved his bowl of Italian soup toward
the chef.
 
He and Jimmy were seated in a
booth inside a small restaurant near Jimmy’s house.
 
Jimmy had invited Sal to lunch, to get his
advice on a personal matter, but the bad food got them off to a rocky start.

“Go
on,” Sal repeated to the chef, “taste it.”

“Sir,
I know how it tastes.”

“But
you won’t taste it, right? Because you know it tastes like shit.”

The
chef looked around, hoping that no other patrons heard the conversation.

“Worse
straciatella I’ve ever had in my life, and I’ve had some doozies.
 
Get it out of here!”

The
chef began to confiscate the soup.
 
“We
don’t issue refunds,” he said, “if that’s what you’re angling for.”

Sal
looked at the man as if he had grown an extra ass, and he was about to kick
them both, but Jimmy, knowing the disaster the scene was about to become, jumped
up from his seat and got in between the man and his uncle. “Take the soup and
go,” he urged the chef.
 
“If you love
your life, take the soup and go.”

The
chef looked at the young black man, and then he looked at the older white
guy.
 
His instinct told him to listen to
the young man.
 
He took the soup and
left.

Jimmy,
relieved, sat back down.

“What
you bring me in this rathole for,” Sal asked, “with this shit-ass food?”

“It’s
not a rathole, Uncle Sal,” Jimmy said.
 
“And the food is good.
 
Not that
soup, he probably didn’t know how to fix that right, but everything else is
pretty good.
 
Try this,” Jimmy said as he
put a helping of pasta on his fork and shoved it toward his uncle’s mouth.
 

“What,
you gonna feed me like we’re two fucking lovers?
 
Get that shit out of my face!”

Jimmy
laughed, and removed his fork.
 
“You’ve
got to eat something, Unc.”

“I’m
not hungry.
 
That’s why I only ordered a
soup.
 
My stomach’s been bothering me
lately.”

“Between
asking Miss Jones to marry you, and buying that palace, and now planning for a
wedding, you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“It’s
not a palace, and we’re going to interview some wedding planners to plan the
wedding, but I get your point.
 
I’ve got
a lot going on.”

And
seemingly to prove the point, his cell phone rang.
 
He looked at the Caller ID.
 
It was Neeco.
 
“Any news?”

“Nothing,”
Neeco said.
 
“He was spotted in
Philly.
 
We went there.
 
He was spotted in Jersey.
 
We went there.
 
He was spotted in fucking DC, but
nothing.
 
We can’t find his ass.”

“What
about Ang?” Sal asked.

“She’s
not talking.
 
Claim she doesn’t know
anything.”

“What
do you mean she’s not talking?
 
Did you
put it to the bitch?”

“She’s
a grieving mother, Sal.
 
She’s an
asshole, but she’s still a grieving mother.
 
How do you want me to put it to her?
 
Water board her?”
   

Sal
rubbed his forehead.
 
He felt out of
sorts.
 
Uneasy.
 
“No,” he said.
 
“’Course not.”

“We’ll
find him boss, don’t worry.
 
Forget
Angela.
 
Rip killed Lonnie’s kid.
 
Lonnie worked for you for years before he
died.
 
He was one of us.
 
Rip ain’t getting away with this.”

“Damn
right about that,” Sal said.
 
“Keep me
posted.”

“I
will, boss,” Neeco said, and Sal killed the call.

“What
was that about?” Jimmy asked.

“Nothing,”
Sal said.
 
Then he leaned forward.
 
“So what is this advice you need from
me?
 
What’s going on?”

Jimmy
stopped eating and leaned back on his banquette seat.
 
“It’s Val.
 
She’s been on my case about my commitment to her.
 
She says I treat her like she’s not number
one in my life.”

Sal
studied the face of Reno’s handsome son.
 
“What did you say to her?”

“I
told her she was nuts.
 
How could she say
she’s not number one in my life?
 
I
married her.
 
She’s my wife!”

“So
that’s how you played it?
 
And you
expected her to go along with that?”

Jimmy
frowned.
 
“Go along with what?”

“With
your bullshit.
 
Come on!
 
She’s a smart girl.
 
She’s no airhead.
 
You answered a question she didn’t ask.”