Tommy Gabrini 4: Dapper Tom Begin Again (7 page)

“Ask
away,” Tommy said.

Marvin
moved closer to him, exemplifying just how personal he was about to get.
 
“Are you on the down?” he asked.

Memories
of childhood, and his father’s abusiveness, flashed through Tommy’s head like
sudden scenes from a war zone.
 
For most
of his teen years, Tommy was often approached by gay guys who felt he was too
pretty to be straight.
 
He wasn’t gay,
not by any stretch, and for most of his teen years he resented them for
thinking he was.
 
He blamed them all, as
if they conspired with his father somehow to destroy his manhood.
 
But now, after years of therapy, after years
of quiet reflection and spiritual soul-searching and no longer giving a damn
what others thought, he blamed no one but his father.
 
And even that blame no longer stung.

“Are
you down, as in on the down-low?” Marvin asked again, as if Tommy didn’t quite
understand him.

But
Tommy understood him perfectly.
 
He
smiled and squeezed the younger man’s arm.
 
A young man who was, like Gemma, nearly a decade his junior.
 
“No, son,” he said, “I’m not down like that.”

Marvin
smiled and hunched his shoulders.
 
“Oh
well.
 
Can’t fault a boy for trying.”

Then
Tommy had a thought.
 
“Word of advice,
however,” he warned.
 
“If you value all
of your body parts, do not, I repeat, do not ask my brother such a question.”

Marvin
grinned mischievously.
 
“You mean that
sweet, adorable, mild-mannered Sal Gabrini isn’t down for whatever?”

Tommy
laughed.
 
“You’re a naughty boy,” he said
with a finger wave as he headed out of the kitchen, prompting Marvin to laugh
and head out too.
 
Sal often came across
as a bit of a narrow-minded, homophobic racist to Marv, although he knew, in
truth, Sal wasn’t really that way.
 
But
he never had those kind of lingering doubts about Tommy.

When
they arrived in the living room area, the crowd was still preoccupied with
their own laughter and mirth, but a smaller group, one that included Sal and
Gemma, had surrounded the new face in the crowd.
 

Cassie
was still hugging her daughter with tears in her eyes, and it was clear that
she was without question the happiest person in the entire house to see
Chelsey.

Tommy
remained outside of the circle, near Sal and Gemma, just as Sal was whispering
in Gemma’s ear.
 
“How long has it been?”
he asked her.

Gemma
exhaled.
 
“Four years,” she said.

Sal
couldn’t believe it.
 
“Four years?”
 
Then he shook his head.
 
“Now that’s a crying shame.”

But
Gemma didn’t seem to agree.
 
“Not for
nothing,” she said.

Sal
looked at her, and asked what did she mean, but Gemma was still too stunned
that Chelsey was there at all to respond to anybody.
 

Rodney
was stunned that she was there.
 

Even
Cassie, who was thrilled beyond measure to see their oldest daughter again, was
stunned that she was there.
 

Tommy
was just stunned.
 
Not by Chelsey’s
presence, but by the woman standing beside her.

His
look lingered when he saw the woman standing beside her.

Cassie
stopped hugging her daughter and pulled back, taking a good look at her.
 
Although Cassie was talking nonstop to the
daughter, Tommy didn’t hear a word she said.
 
He was too busy staring at Chelsey’s friend.

What
a sight to behold, he thought.
 
Tall,
dark, and remarkably gorgeous.
 
And
although she was slender, there was nothing skinny about her.
 
This woman had curves.
 
This woman had the
 
kind of body he craved.
 

Marvin
was about to go and welcome Chelsey home too, but Tommy grabbed his arm and
pulled him back.
 
“Who is that?” he
asked, motioning toward the object of his infatuation.

Marvin
smiled knowingly.
 
“I knew you’d get
around to noticing her.”

“You
know her?”

“Oh
yeah.
 
Everybody does.
 
That’s Liz Logan.
  
She and Chelse have been best friends since
childhood.
 
She came with Chelse for
moral support, or at least that’s why I think she came.”

“I
know Gem said Chelse was a foreign correspondent.
 
Is she one too?”

“Ha!”
Marvin said.
 
“Not hardly.
 
That heifer owns the magazine Chelsey works
for.
 
And she’s a badass, don’t get it
twisted.
 
Don’t let her smiles and her
sweet demeanor fool you.
 
She’s something
else.”

“Is
she married?” Tommy asked.

Another
ha
from Marvin.
 
“No man in this world will ever please that
battle ax to the point of her wanting to marry one.
 
Men are intimidated by her.
 
I know I am, that’s why I steer clear of her.
 
She may be a lesbo for all I know.”

Tommy
smiled.
 
“I doubt that!”

Marvin
looked at him.
 
“You don’t know!”
 
Then he smiled.
 
“You don’t care, do you?
 
You’re going to try it anyway, aren’t you?”

“You
would advise against it?”

“Strongly,”
Marvin said.
 
“Take any interest you have
in her, and squash it now.
 
Your odds are
a million to one, even with your looks.
 
That lady is the gold standard my friend.
 
You will have to climb a mountain of men to
get in her pants.”

Tommy
continued to stare at Liz Logan as he released Marvin, and let him go.
 
The gold standard?
 
A badass?
 
Instead of Marvin’s words scaring Tommy off, they intrigued him even
more.

He
liked everything about her, even down to the way she carried herself.
 
She wore a pair of green, skintight, slim-fit
pants that made her look long and sleek, like a hungry panther.
 
Her high-collar, sleeveless, tucked-in blouse
displayed her big breasts, her flat stomach, and her perfectly narrow
waist.
 
If fine was wine, Tommy thought
as he looked down the length of her, she was champagne.

And
the way she stood there, commanding the room just by being in it, so
straight-back and elegant and poised, did something to him.
 
She knew what she was doing.
 
She was a sophisticated lady in every sense
of the word.
 
And that face.
 
Tommy was captivated by her small, round
face.
 
From her big, brown, almond-shaped
eyes that had a tendency to flutter when she spoke, to her strong nose, full
lips, and high cheekbones, she came across, not only gorgeous, but as a woman
completely confident and self-aware.
 
Before his marriage to Grace, it was women like her who turned him on
unlike any other woman could.
 
And her
smile, so white and wide and the perfect contrast to her dark skin, shut it
down for him.
 

But
when Cassie urged her daughter to say hello to her father, and Rodney just
stood there like a stump on a log, Tommy stopped focusing on Chelsey’s friend,
and looked at Chelsey’s father, at the man he respected.
 
What
the hell
, he thought.
 
The prodigal
daughter was home.
 
She was undoubtedly
many days late and many dollars short, but she was home.
 
What was wrong with Rodney?

Whatever
it was, Tommy realized, it was deep.
 
Rodney stood there looking at his daughter as if he was looking at a
stranger.
 
And when she said,
“Hi, Dad,”
, and she reached over and
hugged him, there was almost a disgust in Rodney’s eyes.
 
He hugged her back, but even that was done
reluctantly. Something was wrong with this picture of family bliss.
 
Tommy saw it clearly now.

Gemma
moved forward as if she saw the awkwardness too.
 
Sal, who was super-protective of his wife
whenever they were on terrain he didn’t control, moved with her.

“Hey
Gem,” Chelsey said gaily.

“Long
time, no see,” Gemma said as she and her sister hugged.
  
Even Gemma didn’t seem thrilled to see her
either.
 
“How are you?”

“I’m
wonderful,” Chelsey said.
 
“And you?”

“I’m
 
. . . good,” Gemma replied.

“And
this must be Salvatore.
 
The
husband.”
 
Chelsey extended her small,
chubby hand.
 
“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice
to meet you too,” Sal said, shaking her hand.
 
“Long time, no show,” he added.
 
Gemma elbowed him.

“Well,
brother-in-law,” Chelsey said, pulling Liz forward, “I want you to meet Liz
Logan.”

“How
are you?” Sal asked as he shook her hand.
 
“So Chelsey, is she your, what do you call it?
 
Your wife?”

Liz,
Chelsey and Gemma laughed.
 
“No, Sal,”
Chelsey said, “she’s just my boss and my best friend.
 
Nothing deeper than that.”

Sal
felt embarrassed.
 
But Gemma, as usual,
saved him from himself by pulling Tommy forward.
 
“Chelse, I don’t think you’ve met Tommy
yet.
 
Tommy Gabrini.
 
He’s Sal’s brother.”

“Hello
Sal’s brother,” Chelsey said as they shook hands.
 
“I’m Gemma’s sister.”

Tommy
smiled.
 
“Hello, Chelsey.”

“And,
in case you missed it,” Chelsey said with a big, slapped-on, nervous smile,
“this is my boss and best friend Liz.”

Liz
almost mouthed the word
wow
when Chelse
introduced her.
 
Not that good looking
men wowed her so easily.
 
They were so
common in her profession that they almost never wowed her.
 
But
this
man
, she thought.
 
With his odd,
greenish-blue eyes; with his strong, chiseled face that had everything
perfectly proportioned; with his thick, gorgeous hair and big, muscular frame,
there was no other word for it.
 
Wow, she
inwardly said again.
 
“Nice to meet you,
Tommy,” she said as they shook.

As
attention returned back to Chelsey and her unexpected appearance, Tommy took
the opportunity to move next to Liz.
 
He
wanted her attention.
 
“So, Liz,” he
said, “are you a Rosemont native also?”

“Born
and raised,” Liz said. “At least until I was eighteen. Then I got the hell out
of here.”

Tommy
laughed. “Big city girl, are you?”

“Hell
yeah,” Liz is with that smile.
 
“Chicago
is my home.
 
People ask me where I’m
from, I say Rosemont, Indiana. People ask me where I want to be from, I say
Chicago.” Then Liz considered him.
 
“What
about you?
 
I know Gem once said her
husband was from Seattle.
 
Is that your
stomping ground too?”

“It
is indeed.”

“What
do you do in good old Seattle?”
 
She
looked down, at his pristine, designer suit.
 
“You don’t exactly look like you’re between employment.”

Tommy
smiled.
 
“No, I work.
 
My brother and I own the Gabrini Corporation
based out of Seattle.”

“The
Gabrini Corporation.
 
Sounds big.”

Tommy
looked her dead in the eye.
 
She was no
shrinking violet.
 
She would know what he
meant.
 
“It’s big,” he said.

Liz
smiled a sideways smile.
 
“You think of
everything, don’t you?
 
And here I was
trying to get a sneak peep at your shoes.”

Tommy
laughed.
 
And as he did, she took that
peep anyway.

Tommy
felt some kind of way about this woman.
 
He was only looking at her.
 
And
he’d only just gotten a good look at her.
 
But he already felt a sizzle.
 
And
when their eyes met for that brief moment, and both of them looked downward,
assessing the other’s body, he was already sold.
 
Which meant he had to have her.
 
He wanted to talk with her, yes.
 
He wanted to get to know her, sure.
 
But mainly, if he were to be honest, he
wanted to fuck her.