Reno and Son: Don't Mess with Jim (The Mob Boss Series) (4 page)

BOOK: Reno and Son: Don't Mess with Jim (The Mob Boss Series)
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“I’m ready,” Reno responded, glancing back
at his son, and then he and Val headed for the all-important kitchen area.
 
As they headed in that direction, Jimmy
balled up his fist and put a hole in the wall.
 

Reno heard the loud ram, and almost stopped
walking and turned around.
 
But for
Jimmy’s sake, but for the fact that it was high time everybody stopped
pampering Jimmy and allowed him to grow the hell up, he kept on walking.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

TWO

 

The front of the split-level mansion
doubled as the car drop-off station and the greeting center and Trina Gabrini,
in her role as co-chairman of the art society and co-hostess of the event, was
the greeter.
 
She stood outside the
double doors of Liz Mertan’s home, her hands in leather gloves, and greeted
every arrival after they got out of their fancy cars and made the walk up the
steep steps.
 
Three women, all smokers,
were standing near her, taking puffs before heading back inside.
 
They were a nice distraction for Trina, as
their entire conversation was all about sizing up the men as they arrived,
especially the good looking men.
 
It was
a chilly night in Vegas, Trina wasn’t exactly dressed for the weather because
she had no idea, until she arrived, that her role would be an outside role, and
all she wanted to do was get back in.

And then Reno drove up.
 
She smiled because she knew how much
arm-twisting she did to get him to agree to come.
 
Liz didn’t think he would make it, considering
his disdain for events like this, but Trina knew he’d keep his word to her and
show up.
 
They’d been married long enough
for her to know that much about him.
 
But
as soon as his Porsche stopped at the curb, and the valet made his way toward
the driver’s side door, the ladies standing nearby became almost gleeful.

“Now we’re talking,” the tallest one said,
as she folded one hand under her arm and held her cigarette with the other
one.
 
They were all white, two blondes
and one redhead, but all three suddenly were honed in on Trina’s husband.

“And he came alone,” the redhead said.
 
“Wonder if he’s married?”

Trina inwardly smiled when she asked the
question, but since she wasn’t a part of their conversation, and they had made
no effort to rope her in, she said nothing.

“I don’t know,” said the tall blonde, “but
he’s dreamy.
 
Look at that face, and
those blue eyes.”

“And that Porsche.”
 

“And he probably has a magnificent body.”

“Yup, he’s single,” the tall blonde
decided.

But the shorter blonde looked at her.
 
“Oh, really now?
 
How can you look at him and tell?”

“He’s single,” the tall one said
confidently.
 
“I know the type.
 
There’s no way a man like that will let one
woman get her hooks in him.
 
Not that
hottie.”

But when the valet opened the car door for
Reno, and the shorter blonde saw him, their hopes were dashed.

“Oh,
man
,”
she said disappointedly.
 
“I know him.”

Trina looked over at her when she said
that.

The tall blonde
 
looked at her too.
 
“You know him?”

“I know him.
 
That’s Reno Gabrini right there.”

“And who, pray tell, is Reno Gabrini?”

The short one smiled.
 
“Just the owner of the PaLargio, that’s all,”
she said.

The tall blonde, stunned, grabbed her
arm.
 
“Are you serious?
 
He
owns
it?”

“He owns it.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

“Wow,” said the redhead.
 
“He’s rich too.
 
Wow.”

“Please say he’s single,” the tall blonde
pleaded with the shorter one.
 
“Please
tell me he’s a playboy who loves to play the field, because I’ll do everything
in my power this very night to have that man playing me.”

“He’s a playboy all right,” the short one
said, “but he’s married too.”

The redhead frowned.
 
“He’s both?”

The short one nodded.
 
“He’s both.”

“The good looking ones always are,” said
the redhead.

Trina used to get super-upset when she
heard such talk about Reno, even to the point of confronting the women.
 
And sometimes, like now, there still was a
part of her that felt saddened by the fact that he had such a reputation.
 
But he had that reputation long before he met
her, she knew about it going in, so she wasn’t about to cry over it now.
 
But that didn’t stop those ladies from their
musings, and the fact that the tall one was still looking hopeful.

“What’s his score anyway?” She asked this
as she seemed unable to take her eyes off of him.
 
She had one finger tapping her teeth, as she
stared at him.
 

He was out of the car now, buttoning his
suit coat, and seemed to be in an animated conversation with the valet.
 
Trina figured Reno was telling the poor kid
that he’d better not leave so much as a fingerprint on his automobile, and the
kid was nodding his head and quaking in his boots.
 
And Blondie was eyeing every inch of Reno.

But the shorter one didn’t understand.
 
“His score?
 
What score?”

“Bed score,” the tall one said.
 
“What’s his bed score?”

“Oh, that,” the short one said.
 
Then she nodded.
 
“Definitely a ten.”

The tall one looked at her.
 
“Really?”

“Definitely.”

“And you know this for a fact?”

Trina looked at the short blonde, to see
how she responded.
 
She could see an
attractive woman like her easily interesting Reno back in the day.

But the short one wasn’t as flip lip as the
tall one.
 
“I don’t show and tell,” she
said, and then laughed.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” the redhead
said.
 
“The good ones are always taken.”

Shorty looked at her.
 
“What’s so good about Reno Gabrini?
 
He’s in the mob, he’s a playboy, and he’s as
mean as Joe Greene.
 
He’s got a big dick,
but so what?
 
A big dick ain’t
everything.”

Both the tall blonde and the redhead looked
at her.
 
Then they looked at Shorty.
 
“You must be a Lesbo,” the tall one said.

“I’m not a lesbian.”

“You have to be.
 
Oh, no, you have to be because there is no
way a hot-blooded American girl will ever make such a declaration.
 
A dick is everything woman, and don’t you
forget that.”

“What’s his wife like?” the redhead
asked.
 
“I’ll bet she’s beautiful beyond
belief.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Shorty said.
 
“But he supposedly loves her to death, at
least that’s what I’ve heard.”

“He loves her but he cheats on her?
 
Some love.”

“And I heard she’s black.”

The tall blonde looked at the short
one.
 
“Really?
 
He married a black girl?”

“He went black.”

The tall blonde looked at Reno again, as he
stepped aside and the valet got into his car.
 
“Those black bitches don’t usually put up with a cheater.
 
But, then again, what woman would give up a
man like that?”

Just as she said it, Reno began heading up
the steps, taking them two at a time as he headed toward Trina.
 
Although he only wore a suit himself, and she
had on a pantsuit, he still was upset that she didn’t have on her overcoat as
well, given the weather.

“You made it,” Trina said as he made his
way to her side.

But he was still wondering why she was out
in the cold.
 
“What’s your problem?
 
What are you doing out here?”

The three talkative women were staring now,
at him first, but now at Trina.

“I’m the co-chairman,” Trina said.
 
“It’s tradition that one of the chairwomen
play greeter.
 
It’s an inside, outside
game.
 
Liz is taking care of the
inside.
 
I’m out here, greeting the arrivals.”

“In this weather?”
 
He placed his hands on her arms, and then
kissed her on the lips.

“I’m okay,” Trina said.
 
“There shouldn’t be that many more people
coming.”

“And you’re going to wait out here for
every one of them?
 
Like hell you are,”
he added, and took her by the hand.
 
“Let’s go.
 
Get inside.
 
You’ll catch your death out here.”


Oh,
Reno
,” Trina complained.
 
“I told you
I’m fine.”

“You aren’t standing around like some hired
help in this weather,” he responded.
 
“And don’t you
oh, Reno
me.
 
If Liz wants somebody out here to
greet all of these people, then she’d better bring her ass out here and greet
them.
 
But you’re going inside.”

Trina knew arguing with Reno would be
fruitless.
 
She allowed him, with his
hand in the small of her back, to escort her back inside.
 
The three women, however, looked at each
other.

“That’s his wife?” Even Shorty was
surprised by the revelation.

The redhead was surprised too.
 
“You think she heard us?”

But the tall blonde smiled.
 
She didn’t care if she did or not.
 
“Only if she has ears,” she said.

 

Inside, the art exhibition was so
well-attended that Trina’s business partner, Liz Mertan, couldn’t stop patting
herself on the back.
 
Trina was, by now,
talking with guests up and down the line, and Liz, who had seemingly forgotten
that she had asked Trina to work the outside, hurried to her and hugged her.

“Isn’t this wonderful, Katrina?
 
All of my hard work has paid off.
 
And yours too.
 
You contributed.
 
You helped to make this a rousing success.”

“I never dreamed everybody would show up.”

“Neither did I,” Liz said excitedly.
 
“It was as if every single person we invited
made it their business to come.
 
Even
him,” Liz added, and pointed across the room.
 
Trina looked and realized she was pointing at Reno.

Trina smiled. “Yeah,” she said.
 
“Even him.”
 

“I’m stunned, quite frankly.”
 
Liz flipped her blonde curls out of her
face.
 
“I know how he feels about me, and
the feeling is mutual, I might add.
 
What
on earth did you have to do to get him to show up?”

“I asked him,” Trina said, although she
knew she asked and asked and asked.
 
But
that wasn’t Liz’s business.
 

“Anyway,” Liz went on, “I couldn’t be more
pleased.
 
I feel vindicated.
 
When you and I became the leaders of the art
society, there were so many naysayers.
 
Neither one of us, they felt, were cultured enough.
 
But look at us now.
 
Our first charitable event and everybody
came!
 
I am over the moon, Katrina.
 
I am simply over the moon!”

Across the room, Reno was walking around
and looking at the paintings on display as if he was a man trying to make the
best of a bad situation.
 
His hands were
in his pants pockets as he moved from frame to frame in search of one painting,
just one, that he could understand.
 
Trina gave him high hopes for this evening.
 
He’d see things he’d never seen before, she
said.
 
It’ll blow his mind, she
declared.
 
He knew all along it wouldn’t.
 
But Trina wanted him to make an appearance so
badly that he came anyway, for her sake.
 

Truth was, this exhibit was about as boring
as he expected it would be.
 
The
paintings weren’t enlightening, but were stupid as hell in his view, the crowd
were a bunch of snobs and not his kind of people at all, and the hostess, Liz
Mertan, was one of his least favorite people on the planet.
  
She was Trina’s business partner, but Reno
wouldn’t trust her as far as he could spit her.
 

But here he was anyway, standing around the
ballroom of this ostentatiously big house, looking at paintings of naked ladies
with beer cans for heads and car parts for vaginas.
 
What the
fuck
?
 
He felt so out of place it wasn’t even
funny.
 
But he’d look across the room and
see Trina laughing and talking and seemingly having the time of her life.
 
And that made it worth it for him.
 
At least she was in her element.
 

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