Page 5

Three weeks later and the Bacca Lounge at the PaLargio Hotel and Casino on the Vegas Strip was filled to capacity with women, and also the few men allowed to participate too.

Sal’s wife Gemma Jones-Gabrini was being honored by her fellow sorority sisters and her numerous other girl groups after she finally received the Attorney of the Year award from the local Bar Association.

Because she was the first woman to receive the honor, all of her girl groups wanted to do something special for her.

They wanted to celebrate their girl in high fashion.

But after hours of partying and spending time with each and every group of ladies present, Gemma was so tired she sat down against a side wall just to take a break.

Trina Gabrini, whose husband Reno owned the hotel and casino where they were partying, came over and sat beside her. “You look exhausted girl.”

“I am. Can you believe how many sistas turned out?”

“From all across the country. I haven’t seen this many beautiful, black, professional women all in one room in a long, long time.

Here in Vegas, you and I are usually two of only a handful of black women in these corporate spaces.

But the sistas are out in force tonight.

And not just us blacks are here. Women of all races are here.

You’re in more girl groups than I am, Gemmi! ”

Gemma laughed. “It’s a lot, I agree. I see just how many there are when you put them all in one room together.”

“And they’re wearing your ass out,” said Trina and Gemma laughed again and crossed her legs.

Trina smiled and looked down at the flare miniskirt Gemma wore with her tall, stiletto boots.

Her blouse, a satin, hot-peach sleeveless number brought out beautifully her smooth, flawless dark skin and her big, gorgeous eyes.

And her short hairdo? Always on point. “You’re kicking butt tonight, Gemma.

You’re giving us fashionistas a run for our money tonight. ”

“Girl bye,” Gemma said with a smile. “It’s only for tonight. Because Monday morning I’ll be right back in my power suit going from courtroom to courtroom to represent my clients, and fashion will be the last thing on my mind.”

“I know that’s right,” said Trina as she looked away from Gemma.

When Gemma saw a troubled look in her eyes, she looked where Trina was looking. And that was when she saw Reno standing in a corner talking with one of Gemma’s girlfriends. “He’s just making conversation, Tree,” Gemma said.

“Yeah, but always with a female.”

Gemma smiled. “That’s because there are very few men here.”

“But why can’t he be like Sal? Sal’s not all up in some woman’s face. Look at Sal.”

Gemma looked on the opposite side of the room and saw her husband standing with a small group of ladies, holding his drink, and listening more than talking to them.

“He’s not off in some corner with just one lady,” Trina continued. “He’s talking with every lady like a married man should behave.”

“That’s not the reason,” said Gemma. “Sal would rather eat spikes than be here. He’s just doing his duty for my sake.”

Trina smiled and looked at Gemma. “Am I getting all bent out of shape over nothing?”

“Yes ma’am, that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“But Reno just gets on my nerve with that shit,” said Trina.

“At least he’s home every night. He may not be home in bed, but he’s in his casino which is home, too, because it’s in the same building as his home.”

Although Reno and Trina owned a home in the Vegas suburbs, they spent the vast majority of their time at their massive penthouse apartment above the PaLargio.

“At least you can just take the elevator downstairs and touch your husband every night. This is the first time I’m seeing Sal in over three weeks.

He’s out of town for weeks on end. I don’t know what he be doing when he’s away from me. Count your blessings, girl.”

The party planner came over to Gemma and Trina. “We’re ready, Mrs. Gabrini,” she said.

Gemma almost asked which Mrs. Gabrini she meant, but she realized who. Trina was slated to give remarks.

“Let me get my speech,” Trina said to the planner. She realized she left her speech in her jacket and her jacket was flapped over a chair across the room. She hurried to get the speech.

While Trina was retrieving her speech, nobody seemed to notice when Bianca walked into the lounge.

That was by design. She knew Sal would be back in town today.

And although Robby kept his word and set up a lunch between her and Sal for tomorrow, she couldn’t wait that long.

Not another second could she wait. She wanted to see him, to be around him, to be with him, that Saturday night.

It took her several days of asking around, and throwing money around, before she finally found out that this “event” Sal Gabrini would be attending was to be held inside the massive PaLargio in one of Reno Gabrini’s lounges.

It was some sort of party in honor of his wife being named mouthpiece of the year, which didn’t sound like something Sal would be caught dead in, but he was probably forced to be there.

She’d heard black women could be aggressive that way with their men.

Which was still a mystery to her why a super-alpha male like Sal would bother to marry one.

But in Bianca’s eyes it was probably transactional: Gemma was a lawyer.

Sal was a mobster. She gave him what they called in the mob world good cover .

She waited outside of the Bacca lounge for a group of ladies to walk up near the entrance.

Because she was dressed in Dior head to toe and looked the part of the successful, professional lady like the ladies in attendance, nobody questioned her when she drummed up a conversation with them and entered the party right alongside them.

It took a lot of moving into various spots around the crowded room before she was able to get a clear view of Sal.

And when she saw him again for the first time in six years, her heart filled with joy.

He was even sexier than she remembered! He had walked over to his cousin Reno.

Reno used to always get on Bianca’s nerves when he would refer to her as Sal’s snitch bitch , which she never was.

She was one of his street informants, but that was on an entirely different level.

She wasn’t going around snitching on just anybody.

She was going around gathering intel on Sal’s enemies and giving him that solid intel. She was the best in the business.

She was honored when he personally asked her to take the fall for Jake’s stupid ass, because it felt as if she was doing Sal a solid, not Jake.

The way she saw it at the time was that if she took the fall for Sal’s capo then she would propel herself into that rarified air of being one of Sal’s special ladies.

Her goal, now that she was out of prison, was to become his top special lady.

She certainly had the looks to pull it off.

Now that she had the reputation, after giving him six years of her life, she didn’t see anything stopping her now.

She looked beyond Sal in search of that whore Gemma Jones, and when she found her she stared daggers at her.

How on earth could she become Mrs. Sal Gabrini above all the rest of them?

How did she ever pull that off? Just because she was a lawyer and willing to marry a crook? That was all it took?

But then Reno Gabrini’s wife stood her uppity ass onstage and asked for everybody’s attention.

Bianca ignored all of the accolades she was giving to Gemma and instead focused on Sal.

Sal was a lot to focus on. His hard body still turned her on.

His hard look still gave her heart palpitations.

She’d heard he was rough in the bedroom, and she loved that.

But when Trina asked Sal to come up onstage and say a few words, and I mean a few , Trina added to laughter from the crowd, Bianca paid close attention.

Sal was in one of his usual pristine, double-breasted suits, and boy did he look gorgeous to Bianca.

She kept looking down, at his midsection, and remembered all of those dreams she had just thinking about how great it was going to be to sleep next to him, to be next to him, to have him in that ultimate way.

And even as Sal was, in Bianca’s view, lying his head off and saying all those glowing words about his so-called wife, she knew it was all an act.

He was saying whatever he had to say to appease that crowd.

Until he said words that seemed so heartfelt that they stunned Bianca.

He invited Gemma to come up onstage with him.

He took her by her hands. And as he spoke to her, his voice choked as if he was fighting back tears.

Gemma was teary-eyed, but who wouldn’t be if Sal Gabrini was holding their hands?

But Sal was teary-eyed too? That threw Bianca.

She’d never seen Sal get emotional like that, not ever.

Not in all the years she’d been informing for him.

Not in all those times they talked on the phone while she was locked up. But he was damn emotional now.

But even that wasn’t the kicker for Bianca.

It was when Sal said, in words dripping with emotion: “ Gemma Jones-Gabrini, you are the love of my life. There has never been nor will there ever be any other woman to take your place in my heart. Because there’s no room.

You’ve filled my heart with your love, your grace, your intelligence, your sophistication, and yes, your own sweet, wonderful, kind heart.

You are my one and only. And don’t you ever forget that. ”

The entire room erupted with applause and Gemma covered her mouth as tears dropped down. And when Sal hugged her, Bianca could see him squeeze his eyes shut as if he meant every word. As if that whore, not Bianca, but the whore was the true love of his life.

When did that happen? When did that change?

He never gave that woman the time of day it seemed to Bianca, but now she was the love of his life?

Her ? That wasn’t supposed to happen. How did that happen?

Did he fall in love with that witch while she was locked up?

Did he decide he wanted that bitch after all? It took Bianca’s breath away!

And when Sal and Gemma started dancing in a slow-drag, in each other’s arms, it was more than Bianca could stand. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She could barely stand up. She had to get out of there.

She tore out of that lounge like a woman on fire.

She didn’t realize she had dropped her wine glass while Sal was calling his wife the love of his life.

She didn’t realize she had bumped into three or four people as she hurried out of that lounge.

She didn’t realize that she had left every semblance of that make-believe life she thought she was going to have with Sal right in that very room.

And she couldn’t bear it. Six years of waiting and hoping and believing and dreaming came down to this?

It couldn’t be. And by the time she made it back to her luxurious apartment, she meant that. It absolutely couldn’t be.

She was not going to let it be.