ROMANCING THE MOB BOSS (17 page)

kil ed,” she said and both her parents gasped at

the same time.

“What happened to them?” her now

stern-looking father asked. “Was it a violent

death?”

Trina nodded. “They were shot down.”

“Have mercy,” her mother said. “Who

would do something like that?”

“Another mob boss,” Trina said.

Cecil looked at his daughter. “What you

mean
another
mob boss? Don’t tel me that.

You mean to tel me this man you dealing with

got connections to the mafia?”

“He doesn’t.”

“But his daddy and brother did?” her mother

asked her.

She nodded her head.

“Goodness gracious child,” her mother

said, “what on earth have you gotten yourself

mixed up in? And why you bringing it here?”

“Because I love Reno,” she said.

“You sound like them battered women.

They stay with the man because they love him,

while he’s steady beating on them. Baby girl,

baby girl,” her mother added, shaking her head,

“this ain’t gonna end wel .”

Her father, however, was more

circumspect. “Why did you leave him, since you

love him so much and he’s not tied up in the

mob life? Why did you leave?”

Trina certainly wasn’t going to tel them

what Reno had revealed to her. “It just al got

kind of too much for me, I guess. So I left.”

“He knows you gone?”

“Yes. Jazz, that’s a friend of mine, she

left a message on my cel phone. She think he’s

coming here.”

“Coming here?” her mother said,

jumping to her feet. “You ain’t bringing no mafia

in my house! You gots to get out of here, un uh, I

ain’t having it. Cecil tel her!”

This was exactly why she stayed away

so long, Trina thought as her mother went on

and on. She and her parents just never quite

and on. She and her parents just never quite

got along. It was nothing she could point to, just

a matter of personality she guessed, of her

doing her own thing. But they were so different

from her that sometimes she wondered if they

were even related.

“Is his heart right, baby girl?” Cecil

asked her, instead.

Trina looked at her father. He was

always the more reasonable, the more

charitable, of the two. “Yes,” she said. “Very

much so.”

He nodded. “Then if he comes, talk to

him.”

“Are you crazy?” Earnestine asked her

husband. “You tel ing your own daughter to

romance some mob boss! What kind of sick,

perverted piece of trash you are?”

Cecil gave her daughter one of those
if

this woman don’t get out of my face
looks that

made her smile. Then he stood up. “If he

comes,” he said again, “talk to him. A man like

that don’t grow on no trees. You listen to your

mother if you want, and you’l end up right back

at that strip joint, struggling for the rest of your

life.”

“Oh, so because he got money,”

Earnestine said, “that means she supposed to

put her life in jeopardy?”

“Her life ain’t in no jeopardy. If this man

is anything like she’s claiming, he wil be her

protection. I don’t think she’s even worried

about that.”

“I’m not,” Trina said.

“Then what you worried about?” her

mother wanted to know.

Trina sighed. “Him,” she said.

And that, to Cecil Hathaway, said it al .

“I got to go to work,” he said, hugging his only

child. “We’l talk this evening.”

Trina smiled. She appreciated his

support.

Only, when the evening rol ed around,

and they had had dinner and was sitting out on

the porch, a tried and true southern tradition, not

a word was spoken. The crickets could be

heard, and the cicadas, but the three adults on

the porch simply sat and rocked and looked at

the trees rustling in the field across the street.

A car stopped in front of the house a

good two hours after they had retired out there,

and Trina’s heart began to pound when Reno

got out and headed toward the porch. Although

he was in one of his expensive suits, it looked

as if it had been slept in, wel -worn.

“That him?” Cecil asked her.

“That’s him,” Trina said.

“What a good looking man. Tal , built

strong, tough-looking. You done good, baby

girl.”

Trina wanted to smile at her father’s

assessment of Reno, but her emotions were too

raw. She simply stared as Reno approached.

“Good evening,” Reno said as he

walked up the steps.

“Good evening,” Cecil replied, standing

to his feet.

Reno’s eyes kept cutting to Trina as he

went up to shake Cecil’s hand. “You must be

Mr. Hathaway.”

“Reverend Hathaway,” Trina’s mother

said.

“Oh, Reverend, I’m sorry. Trina never

mentioned. . .”

“Never mentioned the fact that her father

is a minister of the gospel?” Earnestine said. “I

know. That’s how she is.”

Reno looked at Earnestine. “You have a

fantastic daughter,” he said, amazed that she

didn’t realize it. “I’ve never met a woman more

kind, and caring, and considerate.”

Although Earnestine was defensive, Cecil

was staring at Reno.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t kind,” Earnestine

said. “She just do her own thing and don’t

consult us about nothing. Did she tel you about

Jeffrey Graham, that good-for-nothing?”

Reno looked at Trina. He didn’t care

about any Jeffrey Graham or any other man in

her past. Al he cared about, right here and right

now, was doing whatever it took to get her

back. “Hey,” he said to her. “What, you trying to

give me a heart attack over here, leaving like

that?”

Trina didn’t respond. Reno exhaled.

“I’m sorry, al right? I just. . . I shouldn’t have said

“I’m sorry, al right? I just. . . I shouldn’t have said

what I said, and I’m sorry.”

Trina looked at him. She could see how

distressed he was. “You look awful,” she said.

“Thanks a lot,” he said with a smile.

“Just what I need. A self-esteem boost.”

Trina smiled weakly too. And she knew

it was just an exercise in futility. She looked

beyond him, at the car in front of the house.

“A rental?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“How did you get here?”

“Company jet.”

“This trip is costing you a lot of money.”

“It’s only money. But you, on the other

hand.” He said this with a smile.

“Wel ,” Cecil said, smiling too, “wil you

two excuse me and my wife? It’s getting pretty

late.”

“Nice meeting you again, sir,” Reno

said, shaking Cecil’s hand again. “Maybe soon

we can sit down and have a conversation.”

“I’d like that,” Cecil said. Then looked at

his wife. “Come on, Earnestine,” he said. “They

don’t need an audience.”

Earnestine huffed again, but she got up

and left.

After they did, Reno sat next to Trina.

“So,” he said, glancing at her and then at the

quiet neighborhood, “this is Dale?”

Trina didn’t respond.

“Why did you leave like that, Tree,” he

asked her, a tinge of desperation in his voice.

“You know I was just talking, just upset.”

Trina looked at him. “So there’s no

revenge hit planned?”

Reno leaned back. “What do you want

from me?” he asked her. “That fucker kil ed my

father and my brother. What you want me to

do? Look the other way? Pretend it didn’t

happen? Let him get away with it?” He asked

the last question with a lift in his voice, as if that

would be the worse result of al .

“I don’t know what you should do, Reno,”

Trina admitted. “But I don’t know if I can live like

that.”

Reno’s heart dropped. “Like what,

Tree? You ain’t gonna be involved in none of

this.”

“But you wil be. Don’t you understand

that? That’s as bad, if not worse, than me being

involved. You could go to prison--”

“I’m not going to no prison.”

“Or they could come after you--”

“They ain’t coming after me.”

Trina stared at him. “How can you be so

certain?”

Reno’s temper flared. “Because if I hit

those motherfuckers, I’m gonna hit’em so hard,

and so decisively, that there ain’t gonna be

nobody left to hit back!” Then he settled back

down. “If I were to go down that particular road,

that is. I ain’t Joey. I ain’t Dirty and Carmine. It

ain’t gonna be no warning shots, no message-

sending, no shoot to miss. They didn’t miss

Pop, and my baby brother. Who would shoot

Joey? He was just a kid, just a snot-nosed kid

who didn’t know his dick from his ass. And they

kil him? And you think I’m not gonna at least be

what you cal concerned about that?”

By the time Reno settled back down and

looked over at Trina again, anguish had gripped

her face. He leaned back, ran his hand over

and over through his hair, bunching it up into a

messy pile. “What you want from me, Tree,” he

asked with a plea in his voice. “I’m no saint. I’m

not gonna be a comfortable husband who works

a nine-to-five and comes home to his adorable

housewife. That ain’t me. I wish it was, for your

sake,” he said this as he stood, began to pace.

“But that ain’t me.”

He eventual y leaned against the

banister, facing Trina. “I took the company jet to

get here. We had to land in Jackson, and then I

drove over, in that rental car. While I was

driving, I kept thinking about how in the world

could I make this sel . How in the world could I

convince you that I’m worthy of you, of your

heart, of your life.”

Then he paused, and it was a long,

pregnant, anguished pause, his already

devastated face turning grim. He looked at

Trina. “But I couldn’t,” he said. “I couldn’t make

the case. Because I am not worthy of you.”

Tears began to form in his eyes, which made

Trina teary-eyed too. “I’m not worthy of you,

Trina teary-eyed too. “I’m not worthy of you,

Tree. When I look at you, I see an angel, a

special lady that deserves nothing but the best

of everything. When I look at myself, I see my

father, and his father before him. A thug in the

long run. A man who can’t do right because

he’s not fated to do right.”

Another pause of anguish. “But this

thug, this fated man, loves an angel. And I don’t

know what to do about that.”

Before he could finish his last words,

Trina had already made up her mind. She

made it up as soon as he declared himself

unworthy. Probably made it up before she left

Vegas. If he came for her, if he proved to her,

once again, just how much he truly loved her,

she was taking love. And going back with him.

She stood up, walked over to Reno, and

fel into his arms.

They just stood there, hugged together,

with Earnestine and Cecil staring at them from

their living room’s old style picture window.

Earnestine was shaking her head in disgust.

Cecil was grinning from ear to ear.

They final y moved apart, but only just

enough to see each other’s face. When Reno

smiled, showing those lines of age that these

trying times undoubtedly had exacerbated, her

heart melted. She was his, no matter what.

“How about we take a little ride?” he

asked her.

She smiled too. “Where wil you be

taking me on this ride, Mr. Gabrini?”

“Wel , Mrs. Gabrini, or at least soon to

be, I thought we’d go to the best establishment

in town, wherever that may be, with a certain

type of accommodations that would al ow me to

stretch you out, relax you, and then take this

Herculean rod of mine and bang your brains

out.”

Trina laughed. “You are such a meek

and mild man, did anybody ever tel you that?”

“Nobody,” Reno said, his swagger

back. “And they better not, either. Meek and

mild. I got your meek and mild right over here.”

He pointed toward his midsection. “Right over

here, Tree.”

Trina laughed again. Said goodnight to

her parents, and took that ride with Reno.

They ended up at the Grand, the best hotel

in town, which, Trina admitted when they walked