Romancing Sal Gabrini 2: A Woman's Touch by Mallory Monroe

said.
    “Beating
me back with a stick and telling me to stay away from her?   I’d call that hate.   But anyway, I’d better get on with it.   How are they behaving in my office?   You’ve been checking on them?”
    “I
haven’t, but some of my managers have.”
    “And?”
    “And
Shannon’s ruling the place with an iron fist.   She has it well in hand, they say.”
    Sal
nodded.   “Good.”
    Then
they talked some more, said their goodbyes, and hung up.
    Sal
got up.   But just as he did he noticed
something on the floor, barely under the bed.   When he saw it was Gemma’s small red panties, the panties he had taken
off of her this morning, he smiled.   And
picked them up.   And he couldn’t
resist.   He smelled the seat of those
panties.   That smell, a very faint scent
of her perfumed vagina, caused him to close his eyes in sweet remembrance, and
sensual delight.   

 
 
    SIX

 
    Twenty
minutes later, in Gemma’s outer office, Curtis Kane, her secretary, and
Barbara, her paralegal, were seated behind their desks.   Both were African-Americans, both were
attractive, both were cheerful.   Barbara
was on the plump side, Curtis bordered on too thin.   It was a small office, a mere two rooms, and
the front Plexiglas window was facing the two assistants.   Their share of parking spaces were facing
them too.
    Although
Barbara was eating a sandwich and reading her text messages, Curtis noticed the
Bentley when it drove up.   A man in a
light-blue double-breasted suit, with a pair of dark shades on what appeared to
be a handsome tanned face, stepped out.   And then the man started heading for their front door.
    “Look
professional, Barb,” Curtis said.   “A
money client appears to be arriving.”
    Barbara
looked over too and then quickly put away her sandwich.   She pulled out a file.  
    When
Sal walked in and removed his shades, they both looked especially busy.
    “Good
morning,” Curtis said with a grand smile. “May I help you?”
    “Yeah,”
Sal said, looking around at the paneled walls.   Then he looked at Curtis.   “Who
are you?”
    Barbara
wanted to smile.   “Excuse me?”
    “Who
are you?”
    “I’m
the secretary-slash-receptionist here.   May I help you?”
    “I’m
here to see the. . . Miss Jones.   Miss
Gemma Jones.”
    “Certainly,
sir,” Curtis said, picking up the phone.   “May I ask who wishes to see her?”
    “Sal,”
Sal said.
    Curtis
waited for more, but Sal was looking around the room by then.   Curtis therefore buzzed Gemma.
    “Sorry
to disturb you, ma’am, but a Mr. Sal is here to see you.”
    “A
who?   Describe him?”
    Curtis
lowered his voice.   “Decent height, great
body.   Great hair.”
    “Great
looking?” Gemma asked.
    “Very
great,” Curtis said.
    Gemma
laughed.   “I’m just messing with you,
Curt.   I know him.   Send him in, please.”
    Curtis
looked at the phone and then hung up.   “You may go back, sir,” he said to Sal.
    “Thanks,”
Sal replied and headed for Gemma’s office.
    Barbara
looked at him. “What was that about?”
    “She
says she knows him.”   Then Curtis thought
about it.   “You don’t think that’s the
guy?   That’s Reno Gabrini’s cousin?”
    “Could
be,” Barbara said, and she and Curtis both smiled.
    “One
thing you can say about Gemma Jones,” Curtis said, looking at that Bentley out
front.
    “What’s
that?” Barbara, pulling back out her sandwich, asked.  
    “That
woman up in there has herself some high standards.   No broke brothers with plenty of loving and
no bank accounts need apply.”   Barbara
laughed.   “For real though,” Curtis added,
with a finger snap.

 
    Inside
the office, Gemma was handing Marsh back the extensive file he had given to
her.  
    “As
you can see,” he said as he accepted the file back, “it’s a messy case.   Two biological brothers suing each
other.   That’s never good.”
    “Yeah,
it’s a mess, all right.   But you