Page 69 of Pets in Space 10

“The Interstellar Championship Tournament hasn’t started yet,” Mr. Remington was saying when Dahlia tuned in.

“Nor the Celebrity Pro/Am Event, but our guests are arriving on the ship and we are expecting an influx tonight of the competitors, the wannabes, the hang arounds, the riffraff and, of course, the whales.”

Whales? Dahlia didn’t get the reference, but a chuckle ran through the crowd of waitresses, bartenders, dealers, and others as if they were sharing a common joke.

“And while all our guests are important, you know we want the whales to be happy, especially Moss Sutton, so let’s give our best service tonight, keep your eyes peeled for any problems or issues and don’t hesitate to call for help if needed.

The Ship has increased security for the duration of the tournament, starting tonight, so we’re well covered.

All right, everyone, have a good evening and let’s hope Lady Luck shines on us. ”

There was a smattering of polite applause and then the crowd began to disperse.

Dahlia waited, since she had no instructions as yet and she was sure the first speaker was the man she was supposed to report to.

The duo was coming in her direction and she opened her mouth to speak when Mike Remington paused in front of her, brow furrowed.

She caught a hint of his aftershave, enticingly musky with a hint of citrus.

“I don’t know you,” he said. “Who are you and why are you in my casino dressed like a waitress?”

“Dahlia Vale, sir. I’m a floater — Mrs. DeLance sent me up.

She said you had a waitress call out sick tonight and I do have experience.

” She was proud of herself for not stammering, with this man’s intent focus on her.

She hoped he wouldn’t probe exactly how much experience she had or what type of place she’d worked in before.

Nothing like the glittering establishment he ran.

“I called for a replacement,” the first man said quickly. “We don’t want to be short-staffed tonight.”

The manager didn’t appear to be appeased by the information. He fingered a gold coin in his left hand and considered. “As long as she’s not a damn undercover reporter. Remember the mess that mole tried to create? You’re sure she’s legit?”

“The Ship vouched for her,” Mr. Josephson said. “I can send her back if you want. We’d owe the minimum shift rate is all. No cut of the tip pot.”

Dahlia crossed her fingers. She desperately wanted to keep this one-time assignment and be able to move among the cream of the passengers, taking in the sights and sounds.

“She can stay.” Remington leaned closer to Dahlia. “This is an important night, as you heard me say a few minutes ago. Screw up and there will be a black mark in your record from me.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” she said, staring into his eyes and struggling not to lose her situational awareness. This man was having an inordinate effect on her and tempting as he was, she couldn’t afford to mess up.

One of the bouncers came into the room and made a beeline for Remington. “Janatoll is here, with his entourage. You’re needed on the floor, sir.”

“Two days early,” Remington said. “But we’re ready for him.”

Without another word to Dahlia he strode into the corridor, the bouncer on his heels.

“All right, Ms. Vale, come with me and I’ll give you the basics.

” The operations manager touched her elbow.

“Don’t let Mr. Remington scare you. He’s all bark and also has a mean bite, but do your job and don’t bring any attention to yourself and you’ll be out of here in six hours with pay and tips. ”

She walked with him. “Tips?”

“Casino adds them to every drink order and takes them on all chips cashed in. Split among those who worked the floor that shift. Certain individuals earn tips directly and get to keep them.” He laughed.

“Before you get starry eyed, you’re not one of those people.

You’re gonna be juggling big trays of free hors d’oeuvres Chef Stephanie sent up.

You don’t handle credits at all. Job’s pretty simple — get a tray in the kitchen, circulate in your assigned portion of the gaming floor, ask people if they want a snack.

Whatever you do, don’t interrupt someone in the middle of a game or a bet. Don’t distract the guests.”

“Unobtrusive, I get it. I’m good at that,” she said.

He nodded as they entered the busy kitchen and made a few more generic comments, warning her a few guests might get handsy, as he called it, and emphasizing the point she didn’t have to put up with inappropriate touching.

There was a map of the gaming floor tacked to the wall and he showed her which zone was hers.

“Grab a tray and get to it,” he said. “When the tray’s empty, get back here and pick up another. Take a ten minute break at two-hour intervals, in the room where we had the meeting, not on the floor or in the dressing room, got it?”

Before she could ask any questions, he was striding off across the room, heading for two waiters having a heated discussion.