Trina’s beautiful soft face turned hard. And then sad. And then a tear even escaped that she quickly wiped away.
But that singular tear convinced Gemma that it just might not be all talk this time. She leaned forward and touched Trina’s hand. They weren’t just business partners with joint ownership of the Champagne’s clothing boutiques around the country, and they weren’t just two black ladies that married two mobormob-adjacent Italian cousins, but they were also great friends. And an emotional Trina wasn’t something Gemma hardly ever saw. “What did he do, Tree? What is it?”
But Trina didn’t seem able to even verbalize how she felt. She just shook her head. Then her phone buzzed. She had a text message.
As she pulled her phone out of her purse, Sal and Gemma looked at each other. But Gemma could see Sal wanted to go in hard. He wanted details. She leaned over to him. “Lighten up,” she whispered. “Tree will shut you down if you go at her too hard.”
Sal knew it too. That was why, while she was reading the text, he eased up. “That Reno texting you?” he asked her.
She was frowned as she read the text.
“Tree?”
Trina looked up at him, but she seemed to be in a state of confusion.
“You okay?” Gemma asked her.
“What? Yes, I’m fine. What were you asking, Sal?”
“I wanted to know what was up with Reno. Cramps?”
Gemma expected Trina’s confusion to go through the roof after Sal made that crazy remark, but Trina just looked back down at that text. She continued reading. Which made Gemma even more concerned.
And when Trina got near the end of the message, there was a decided change in her facial expression. And then she suddenly jumped up from her seat. “I’ve got to go,” she said.
Sal stood up too, his double-breasted suit unbuttoned, as he and Gemma both were baffled. “Go where?” Sal asked her. “You just got here. Where you going?”
“Just something I need to take care of,” she tried to say as casually as she could as she grabbed her purse and phone.
“But what’s wrong?” Gemma asked her.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’ll call you later,” she said, and hurried for the exit.
Gemma, floored, looked at Sal as Sal sat back down. “What in the world could that be about?”
But Sal could only hunch his shoulders. He was as baffled as Gemma.
“What could Reno have done?”
“A million things. It’s Reno,” said Sal. Then he hunched his shoulders again. “Who knows? Maybe it’s his hormones acting up like yours do when you have your period.”
Gemma’s face went from concern to outright incredulity. “Call that waiter to top off my drink.”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink, Gemma Gabrini?”
“Enough? And I still got to deal with your ass? Hell no. I need a double!” Then she laughed.
“You got jokes,” said Sal offended. “I got fists. But you got jokes. Now which one, jokes or fists, will put your ass in an early grave?”
“You mean after I take your balls, shove them upyourass, and putyouin that early grave? Is that what you mean, Sal Luca?”
Sal visualized what she said and didn’t like the vision. “Waiter!” he yelled out. “We need liquor at this table! Liquor emergency!” And they both laughed.
But when the laughter died down, they both thought about and then became increasingly worried about the future of Reno and Trina.
CHAPTER TWO
Reno Gabrini had had it up to here with thosegotdamn preppie-ass troublemakers. He and three of his pit bosses ran across his humungous casino to the latest fight outbreak: this time between two warring fraternities. They were on the floor, by the blackjack tables, fighting like the punks Reno took them for. In his day they would be punching each other’s lights out, not wrestling around on the floor like girls.
