“What do you think?” Gemma asked.

“It’s cute,” said Grace.

“But?”

“There’s no but.  It’s cute.”

They were in Sal and Gemma’s hotel suite, and Gemma had been trying on an outfit for dinner.  That was, if their husbands made it back in time for dinner!

Grace was already dressed, in a pair of blue silk slacks and a white blouse with matching heels: a Versace head-to-toe outfit Tommy had purchased for her.  But Gemma was still in jeans.  And still trying to decide what the heck she was going to wear!  “Cute wasn’t what I was going for,” she said as she tossed the dress onto the bed with all of the other dresses and pants she had tried on.  “I was going for drop-dead beautiful!  I wanted that dress to be drop-dead beautiful.”

Grace laughed.  “I wouldn’t go that far,” she said.  “But it’s a nice dress.  You’ll look fine, Gemma.  You always look fantastic.”

“So do you, are you kidding?  I love your style!  Look at that outfit you have on right now.”

“This is all curtesy of Tommy Gabrini, thank you very much,” Grace replied with a smile.  “Tommy buys ninety percent of my wardrobe.  He’s the fashion king.  I just follow his lead.”

Gemma laughed.  “Sal is just the opposite.  When I first met him, all he ever wore were those double-breasted Armani suits.  He looked good, don’t get me wrong, but the man had no sense of range.”

“What about now?” Grace asked.

“Now all he wears are those double-breasted Armani suits,” Gemma said and they laughed.  “But at least he knows how to do casual too now,” Gemma added.

“Yeah, I have to give my props to Tommy,” Grace said.  “I’ve never met a man with a keener sense of style.  Tommy can put on a pair of blue jeans and you’d think he was shooting a cover for Esquire.”

Gemma smiled.  “So true!” she said.  “But what I like most about Tommy is how he’s embraced that family-man role.  The way he used to run through women, I didn’t think it was ever going to be possible.  But you guys really have a special relationship, don’t you?”

Grace nodded.  “Yes.”

“He really loves you, Grace.  Even after you guys separated and divorced that time, and you married that creep, whatever his name was, he still loved you.  Everybody was telling him to move on, but he couldn’t.  He wouldn’t!”

Grace still felt chills down her spine whenever she thought about that hellish time.  “They didn’t understand what he saw in me,” she said.  “And to be honest with you: neither did I.”

“It wasn’t his attraction to you they didn’t understand,” Gemma said, “it was just that you were so different from the kind of women we were used to Tommy being with.”

“Gorgeous ladies, weren’t they?” Grace asked.

“Oh, baby,” Gemma said.  “Those ladies were superfine, you hear me?  They were like the most beautiful women in the world!  And every last one of them were black.”

“I know!” Grace said with a grin.  “I used to ask Tommy if he ever heard the old adage that variety is the spice of life.  He said not his life.”

They laughed.

“Yeah, you hit the jackpot, Grace,” Gemma said, nodding her head, “when you won Dapper Tom.”

“What about Sal?” Grace asked.  “You don’t think you hit the jackpot?”

“Oh, I hit the billion-dollar Powerball lottery when I won Sal!”  They laughed.

Then Gemma turned serious.  “Nobody has a heart like Sal.  Nobody on the face of this earth.  Tommy once told me how, when they were little, Sal would always protect the bullied kids.  No matter who they were, or the color of their skin, or even their orientation.  He protected them against any bullies.  But yet he held, at that time, such racist ideas.  But that was Sal.  That’s why I gave him a shot.  I knew a man can change, and boy did he change!  I knew he had that good heart.”

Then she smiled.  “So, yeah, I know how blessed I am to be that man’s woman.  Now don’t get me wrong,” Gemma added, “Sal Luca Gabrini drives me up the damn wall and back down again half the time!”

Grace laughed.  Then Gemma turned serious again.  “But yeah,” she said.  “Sal’s the best.”

“And he’s a wonderful father, too.  He takes his responsibility,” Grace began saying, but then they heard what sounded like a loud pop sound in the corridor outside of the suite.

“What was that?” Gemma asked, as both women began heading toward the front.

Then they heard what they were certain was a series of gunshots, and both of them ran back into the bedroom.  They were the wives of Gabrini men: they knew exactly what to do!

Gemma remembered everything Sal had told her before he left, and she executed his plan flawlessly.  She reached beneath the bed, flung a briefcase onto the bed, and then opened it by typing in a three-number code.  Inside the briefcase was a small arsenal of weaponry.  Most people would have been intimidated by such firepower.

Not Gemma and Grace Gabrini.

They didn’t hesitate.  Grace grabbed two guns.  Gemma grabbed two guns.  And they took off.

They ran back up the hall that led upfront, armed to the teeth, to see if they could look out of the peephole to determine if their men were back and involved in the gun battle, or if it was only their Security, the four men who stood outside of their hotel room doors, involved.

But they didn’t make it to the front door.

As soon as they cleared the hall and were about to enter the living area, the hotel room door was kicked down so violently that sawdust from the screws that held it on its hinges began flying around like debris.  Three men they didn’t know and were not in their Security detail, undoubtedly the three that had survived the attack in the corridor, rushed in with guns of their own.

The women didn’t ask who they were, or what they wanted, or why the fuck they couldn’t just knock.  They did as Tommy had taught Grace: shoot first to ask questions later!

It was clear that the intruders didn’t expect the ladies to be armed at all, and their surprise gave the ladies their opening.  Gemma killed one of the men as soon as she saw him, and Grace took out the other one.  But unlike everybody else, the third gunman was armed with a high-powered assault rifle that was able to shoot with such rapid succession that as he fired his weapon, and kept firing, the ladies didn’t stand a chance.  They had to take off out of the front area, and retreat down the hall, as his hail of bullets landed like darts in the walls around them.

But despite the terror they felt in their hearts, the ladies didn’t abandon what they’d been taught.  They weren’t about to give up!

Gemma ran into one of the bedrooms, while Grace ran into the other bedroom across the hall, and they waited as if they were lying in wait for their attacker.

Even the intruder was cautious as he finally stopped shooting, and began making his way slowly down the hall.  But he was a seasoned pro.  He saw those two bedrooms ahead.  He wasn’t about to walk into anybody’s trap!

As soon as he made it just outside of the bedroom entrances, he prepared his assault rifle to start firing side to side, and with that same rapid succession, to kill both ladies at once.  And just as he was about to aim his gun at the bedroom where Gemma was waiting to attack, and then at Grace’s room, a voice rang out.

“Polizia!  Getta l’arma!”

And then, in case the killer didn’t understand Italian, the voice made himself plain: “Police!  Drop your weapon!  Drop your weapon!  Getta l’arma now!”

The killer was pro enough to know the feeling when the barrel of a gun was at his back.  He raised his hands quickly, and then eased his rifle to the floor.

Only after additional police officers arrived on scene just behind the first officer, and ordered Gemma and Grace to come out of the bedrooms with their hands in the air, did the first officer feel protected enough to handcuff the intruder.  And although the cops spoke a little English and Gemma spoke a little Italian, it wasn’t enough for either side to understand the other side.  The ladies were escorted, at gunpoint, into the living area, where they were seated on the sofa.