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

  And that was why, despite Jimmy’s resistance when Reno first reached for him, Reno reached anyway and pulled his son into his arms.

  Val felt much better when Reno embraced Jimmy. Because she, too, knew that Jimmy was as delicate as he was tough. But the harshness Reno had spoken to Jimmy still bothered her. There might have been two sides to Jimmy, but there weren’t two sides to Reno. He was so hard on Jimmy, and sometimes unflinchingly brutal, it seemed to her.

  Jimmy fought back tears as his father held him. There was no way he was going to let Reno or Val or anybody else see him cry. They all thought he was weak-kneed anyway. He wasn’t about to prove it.

  They stopped embracing. Reno kept his hand on the back of Jimmy’s neck, keeping him close. “Show me you’re ready for more,” Reno said to him, “and I’ll give you more. You know I will. But you’ve got to show me something, son. I desperately want you to make it, but I’m not going to pretend you’re where you need to be, because you aren’t. I can’t pretend with you. I love you too much for that, Jimmy. You have to do a whole lot better before you start talking about running anything of mine. Understood?”

  Jimmy nodded, but Reno knew it wasn’t a nod of agreement, but a nod just so Reno could release him from his grasp. He kissed Jimmy first, and then released him.

  Val attempted to regain control of what was the biggest showing of her career, and she knew her sympathy for Jimmy couldn’t get in the way. “Ready to see the rest of the place, Mr. Gabrini?” She attempted to smile, to play it off.

  “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 bl
onde 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.

  Then he heard a voice.

  “Not my style either.”

  He turned around and saw a woman, the tall blonde that had been standing near Trina when he drove up, and now she was standing next to him. He had been staring at another crazy-ass painting, looking sideways at it to see if he could see what all the fuss was about. And now he had a visitor in his space. “Excuse me?”

  “I said I agree with you. This style of art isn’t my style at all.”

  “Yeah, well,” Reno said, looking once again at the painting, “it’s supposed to be creativity. It’s not supposed to be to everybody’s taste. Some people love this stuff.”

  “But not you?”

  “It’s all right.”

  The tall blonde inwardly smiled. “I, personally, prefer telematic art. Telematics. Would you agree?”

  Reno didn’t respond to that. He knew what she was doing.

  She smiled. What maleness, she thought. “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? You don’t know what telematics are. Do you?”

  Now he was pissed. Not only did he have to endure the evening itself, but to have some snob in his face who knew full well he didn’t know shit about telematics and didn’t want to know, was too much. “Yeah, I know what it is,” he said. “It’s get the fuck out of my face, that’s what it is.”

  But instead of the tall blonde giving him her best look of censure and cowering away, the way a real snob would do, she laughed. Then she reached into her clutch bag, pulled out a business card, and handed it to him. “If you want to be amazed,” she said, “give me a call.” She continued to smile, as she walked away.

  Reno stood there, smiling and looking at her tight ass as she left, and then he looked at the card.

  Trina was across the room, still working the crowd, but she also saw that woman, that same one who had been eyeing him earlier, give her husband a card. When the woman walked away and Reno started watching her ass, Trina excused herself from the group of ladies she’d been conversing with, and walked over to him.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  Reno’s smile left. “Hell no. I was ready to go before I got here so you can imagine how ready I am now.”

  “Then what were you smiling about?”

  “Who’s smiling?”

  “You were smiling a moment ago.”

  “Yeah, well, call it an exception to the rule because there’s nothing funny here.”

  Trina waited for him to explain who that woman was and why she gave him her card, but as usual, he didn’t say anything.

  “What about you? Enjoying yourself?”

  “It’s okay,” Trina responded.

  “Okay my ass! You’re acting as if you’re having the time of your life. You’re in your element here.”

  “My element? Boy please. These snobs bore me more than they bore you.”

  Reno was surprised by that. “Oh, yeah? Then what’s with all of the laughing and the backslapping and the conversation?”

  “We’re trying to raise money for a children’s hospital, Reno. These are big money donors. If it’ll make them write checks, then I’m more than willing to laugh and backslap and
run my mouth endlessly. It’s the least I can do.”

  “So what am I? I’m not a big money donor? Why haven’t you put the squeeze on me for a contribution?”

  “You contributed twenty thousand dollars earlier this evening,” Trina informed him. “Thank-you, by the way.”

  Reno smiled and shook his head. That was his Tree. It wasn’t the first time she got his checkbook, wrote a big fat check to some charity, and told him about it later. And he was certain it wouldn’t be the last time either. “You’d better be glad I love you, sister, or . . .”

  Trina looked at Reno with those big bright eyes of defiance that always turned him on. “Or what?”

  It wasn’t what she said, but how she said it. With that shake of her head, with those big eyes stretched bigger as if she was daring him to dispute her decision, and he looked down, at her body. Six months ago she gave birth to his beautiful baby girl, his only daughter of three children, and that body of hers was still the hottest he’d ever seen. When he looked back up, with those hooded blue eyes of his, Trina knew exactly what was coming next.

  He moved up to her, and whispered in her ear. “Take me to the bathroom, the broom closet, or wherever the hell I can fuck you, and take me now,” he ordered her.

  Just the way he ordered it made Trina hot. And she immediately began heading toward the long hall adjacent to the ballroom. He walked behind her, trying not to look at her ass, as they politely but urgently made their way.

  But what really warmed Trina’s heart was when they walked by a wastebasket and she glanced back just as Reno was taking the card that woman had given to him, and was tossing it into the trash. He wasn’t the kind of man who ever felt he had to explain himself to anyone, and that was fine by Trina. He didn’t have to explain a thing to her. She knew him.

  When they walked further down the hall to what was actually a small dressing room, Trina walked in, Reno followed her, and he closed and locked the door. Then he pinned her against the door, with his hands on either side of her. He immediately began rubbing his erection against her pants-covered vagina, as he kissed her.