Reno Gabrini: For His Lover (The Mob Boss Series Book 14) (8 page)

BOOK: Reno Gabrini: For His Lover (The Mob Boss Series Book 14)
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CHAPTER NINE
 

“Three tigers,” he said.
 
“Bringing my total to five.”

“No deal,” Reno said.

“No?
 
How can you say no?
 
But I am the Great Valyshnikov!
 
It is essential to my performances that I
have exactly what I need.
 
And you’re
telling me no?”
 
They were standing
onstage in the Palace Room at the PaLargio, where Valyshnikov and his circus
acts put on their nightly shows.
 
Valyshnikov was livid by the treatment he’d received thus far.
 
Reno didn’t give a shit.

“I gave written permission for two tigers, two lions, and
twenty-five less threatening animals,” Reno said.
 
He had in his hand a pair of shades and a
sheet of paper spelling out Valyshnikov’s demands.
 
He’d just returned to the PaLargio from a
series of meetings.
 
The last thing he
needed to be confronted with was this nonsense.
 
“I was already going above and beyond for you.
 
But that still wasn’t enough.
 
You wanted more and more and more.
 
Now you want three more tigers?
 
Not happening.”

“But why is this unreasonable?
 
It is what I need for my work!
 
Why is this not to happen?”

“Because I’m responsible for everything that goes on under my
roof,” Reno said.
 
“I have liability from
here to Mars, especially with these circus acts.
 
I’m not taking on anymore.”

“What are you talking about taking on?
 
I have insurance!
 
If anything happens, they will sue me.
 
Not you!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Reno fired back.
 
“They’ll sue both our asses.
 
The answer is no.”

“And you think that is the end of it?” Valyshnikov
asked.
 
“You think you can tell me no and
that finishes it?
 
I will take my
menagerie, the greatest in the world, and leave you and your PaLargio at once.
 
And all of these wonderful people coming from
around the world just to see me will be astounded when they discover that I,
the Great Valyshnikov, is not here!
 
In
other words, you can take my act and shove it.”

Reno walked up to the Great Valyshnikov.
 
Valyshnikov moved slightly back in fear.
 
“And you know what else I’ll shove?” Reno
asked, purposely invading Valyshnikov’s personal space.

“No,” Valyshnikov replied less confidently.
 
“But I’m sure you will tell me.”

“I’ll shove our contract so far up your ass that you’ll be
spitting out paper for the rest of your life.
 
Green paper.
 
As in dollar
bills.
 
To me.
 
For breaking the terms of our contract and
expecting me to go along with that breach.
 
So you go right ahead, Great.
 
Give it a whirl.
 
I’ll be happy to
own your circus.”

Valyshnikov blinked.
 
And then attempted to smile.
 
“Why
do you Americans take matters so seriously?
 
It was just a suggestion!
 
Surely
you didn’t think I would not fulfill my obligations?
 
I am the Great Valyshnikov after all!
 
I must keep my word!”

He was a fool, was what he was, and Reno saw it in his
fearful eyes.
 
“Threaten to pull out
again,” Reno warned, “and I’ll call in your threat as a breach of contract and
demand that you leave my hotel.
 
And that
won’t be a suggestion, but a fact.
 
Don’t
fuck with me.
 
I might fuck back.”

Reno continued to stare at the man, and then he walked
away.
 
Valyshnikov didn’t realize he was
not breathing, until Reno left.
 
Then he
exhaled.
 
“Gangsters,” he said
angrily.
 
And then added loudly:
 
“I am reduced to working for gangsters!”

Reno, however, was tired of this shit too.
 
One performer after another realized they
have a good thing going at the roundly successful PaLargio and suddenly wanted
to renegotiate their contracts.
 
As he
left the Palace Room and headed toward the elevators, to go back to his office,
he was beginning to wonder if all of this headache was worth it.
 
Super-long hours, and sometimes he didn’t
make it home at all, as fire after fire kept him jumping.
 
Lee Jones used to be a good manager, but he
was gone.
 
Jimmy was in New
Hampshire.
 
Trina had her hands full with
the success of Champagne’s and was largely absent.
 
In many ways he felt like a man alone.
 
It wasn’t fair to his children.
 
It wasn’t fair to his wife.
 
He wondered if he was even being fair to
himself.

His cellphone rang as he threw up his hands at the front desk
receptionist and walked across the lobby.
 
When he pulled out his phone and saw that it was the head of the
security detail he had in place for Trina, he answered swiftly.
 
“This is Reno,” he said.

“Hate to disturb you, boss, but I just wanted to run
something by you.”

“Yeah, what?”

“You told me to make sure my people were hypervigilant right
now, after what happened at Dommi’s school.”

“That’s right.”

“There’s this guy that Mrs. Gabrini met for dinner a couple
nights ago.
 
Miss Gemma was there too.”

Gemma was a married lady, Reno thought, but Sal was around so
little many of his men forgot that fact.
 
“Okay, they met with some guy.
 
What of it?”

“He’s back again today.
 
Only he’s not meeting with your wife, but seems to just be lingering
around inside of the store like a fucking stalker or something.
 
He’s not buying anything.
 
He’s not talking to anybody.
 
We didn’t see where he went up to the counter
to ask to see Mrs. Gabrini.
 
He’s just
hanging around.
 
I thought you should
know.”

Ordinarily, this would have been an overreaction of
monumental proportions and Reno would have cussed his ass out.
 
But after somebody called in that abuse
report on them, threatening to take away their minor children, Reno had ordered
his men to overreact.
 
“Shoot me a
photograph,” he said. “I’ll go over there and check it out.”
 
Then Reno shook his head.
 
As if he needed that too!

 

Pierre
Durand was still
walking around the aisles of Champagne’s when Reno arrived.
 
It didn’t take Reno long to eyeball him.
 
Not just because his photo was still etched
on his brain, but because he was the only man among many ladies browsing around
in the ladies boutique.

Oprah
Davenport, Trina’s store manager, was behind the counter ringing up a customer,
and there were a few salesladies helping out the numerous shoppers, but he
didn’t see Trina nor Gemma.

Reno
casually made his way around the backside of the aisles until he was standing alongside
Pierre.
 
He was tall and fairly good
looking, but Reno was reasonably certain that he wasn’t Trina’s type.
 
Other than Reno himself, who was Italian,
Trina seemed to prefer muscular black men.
 
This guy wasn’t muscular, nor black.

“Hi,”
Reno said as he stood alongside Pierre.

Pierre
had on glasses and was taking a closer look at a ladies blouse.
 
He removed his glasses.
 
“How do you do?”

A
French accent also, Reno thought.
 
Definitely not Trina’s type.
 
“What is a nice guy like you,” Reno said with a smile, “doing in a place
like this?”

Pierre
laughed.
 
“I could say the same for
you.
 
But no, monsieur, I am not here to
buy, but to speak with the owner.”

“So
you know the owner?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes indeed.
 
She is a
very nice, very hot, young lady.
 
If I
may say so myself.”
 
He was smiling
excitedly.

Reno didn’t like his odd excitability.
 
“So you think she’s hot?”

“Yes, I do.
 
I find her most attractive.
 
But not only that.
 
She is smart as well.
 
Very smart.
 
A
cultivé
, a highly educated person.
 
She is, for me, an outstanding individual.”

Reno knew a lot about Trina.
 
But calling her highly educated didn’t square with the truth.
 
She graduated high school, and was smart as
anybody else he knew, but she wasn’t what he would consider highly educated.
 
“Highly educated?” he asked.

“Yes.
 
An
avocet
.
 
She is an attorney, you see.”

Gemma?
 
He meant
Gemma!
 
But that didn’t make Reno
completely relaxed.
 
Because, once again,
some man was trying to hit on Gemma and that husband of hers, Reno’s cousin Sal,
was nowhere to be found.
 
Although Gemma
would disagree, and Sal too to a certain extent, Reno felt it was his duty to
look out for Gemma when Sal wasn’t around.
 
Which, Reno also inwardly noted, was often.
 
“So you like her?”

“Who wouldn’t?
 
Her
smile.
 
Her calm demeanor.
 
Her body,
ooh
la la
!
 
Her dark skin is
flawless.”
 
Then he smiled.
 
“But one can wish.”

“Stop wishing, pal,” Reno said.
 
“She’s happily married.
 
And I know her husband.
 
He’ll kill your ass if you even think about
coming onto his wife.”

“Oh, no, monsieur, you misunderstand me.
 
I am not, how do you say?
 
Coming onto her.
 
I just admire her brain.
 
That is all.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“Reno?”
 
It was Trina’s
voice and both men looked in her direction.
 
She was walking toward them.
 
“What are you doing here?
 
And you
too, Pierre?”

Pierre smiled.
 
“Mrs.
Gabrini, hello.
 
I needed to let you know
that the samples will be delayed.
 
But I
anticipate no more than a day or so.”

Trina arrived at their side.
 
“Is the delay on this end or Cousteau’s?” she asked.

“No, no, France, I assure you,” Pierre assured her.
 
“Paris as we speak.
 
But all should right itself presently.
 
No more than a day or two.”

“Good,” Trina said with a smile.
 
Samples of Jean Paul Cousteau’s work was critical
to her ultimately decision.
 
She knew he
was masterful in men’s clothing.
 
She had
yet to see his ladies line.

“What samples?” Reno asked.

“He’s Jean Paul Cousteau’s representative, Reno.”

Reno frowned.
 
“Who the
hell is Jean Paul Cousteau?
 
Some kin to
Jacque?”

Trina laughed.
 
“No,
no, no kin.”

“Then who is he?” Reno asked.

“Only one of the top designers out here,” Trina said.
 
“He wants an exclusive with Champagne’s.
 
I was going to tell you about him after I met
with him.”

“He’s a top designer of women’s clothing?”

“Primarily men’s.”

“Then why the hell haven’t I heard of him?” Reno asked.
 
“If he’s so big?”

“Reno, please,” Trina responded.
 
“He designs nice suits.
 
Nice two thousand dollar suits.
 
Not those five and ten thousand dollar suits
you Gabrinis favor.”

“He’s not in my league, this hot shot, is that what you’re
saying?” Reno asked.

Pierre laughed.
 
“You
are a modest one.”

BOOK: Reno Gabrini: For His Lover (The Mob Boss Series Book 14)
9.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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