Page 5 of Russian Roulette
“The normal amount,” he answers. “Between now and the week before Christmas, we’ll be a little slower than usual. Once the holiday crowd arrives in town, we’ll be hustling our asses off until after New Year’s Eve.”
“I hope so,” I remark. “My new show starts on New Year’s Day. Several time slots are already sold out.”
“That’s likely what the boss wants to discuss,” Seth informs me. “Mr. Giovanni is hunting for you. Said to tell you to meet him upstairs in his office. He’s been trying to call you and you weren’t picking up.”
I reach into my jacket pocket to retrieve my cellphone. My pet snake has wrapped itself around it for warmth. The girl’s expression was priceless when I handed it to her. She didn’t strike me as a normal early morning casino gambler. Usually, they’re either hung over from the night before or hardcore compulsive gamblers.
Something is off with her. I couldn’t resist going over to check her out.
“Fuck!” I exclaim, when I read my phone screen. “I’ve missed five calls from his office.”
“The boss man doesn’t like to be ignored,” Seth reminds me, as if I’m unaware.
“I didn’t hear my phone go off,” I explain. “Is he pissed?”
Seth shrugs. “I don’t ask the boss how he’s feeling. I keep my head down, eyes on my own paper, and mind my own business. If I were you, I’d get my ass up there to his office right away. Don’t keep Giovanni waiting.Ever.”
“No need to tell me that,” I reply, nodding in agreement. “I’m heading up there now.”
“Good luck. Sounds like you’ll need it.”
I hurry across the massive casino lobby to an elevator that requires a special key card to open. Once inside, I input a four-digit code and press the button for the hotel’s top floor. The elevator rapidly rises, causing my ears to pop before it comes to a halt. The doors glide open silently to reveal a lavish penthouse office.
My shoes echo loudly as I cross the marble floors toward the reception area. A woman in her sixties is seated behind an imposing mahogany desk, her usual post. Marla is her name, also known as the ‘Gatekeeper’. She keeps tight control over Giovanni’s hectic schedule. To meet with the boss, you must first battle your way past Marla.
Removing her wire-rimmed glasses, she glares at me. “You’re late again. Mr. Giovanni is on a tight schedule, and he doesn’t appreciate having his time wasted. How many times have we discussed this, Seven? Tardiness is disrespectful and won’t be tolerated.”
“I didn’t realize he was expecting me,” I explain nonchalantly. “I didn’t notice my phone buzzing in my pocket.”
“That’s not a valid excuse,” she retorts sharply. “Take a seat, and I’ll alert him you’re here.”
She lifts her phone and whispers into it as I walk over to the window. The penthouse office boasts the best panoramic view of Vegas and comes at a premium price. In the distance, I can barely make out the mountains. Far below, the Vegas strip gradually stirs to life. At this height, it’s difficult to make out the tiny outlines of the cars zigzagging through the morning traffic.
She hangs up the phone. “You can go back now,” she orders, waving a hand at me. “He’s waiting for you in his office.”
I move past her desk and along the long, thickly carpeted hallway to the office of Mr. Giovanni, the owner of the Imperial Hotel and Casino and several other casinos in town. The wealthiest man in Las Vegas and the head of the Vegas mafia. And the asshole who owns my life. Or at least my employment contract for another two years. He alone has the power to make or break my career.
If he keeps funding my headline show, I’ll soon be a household name with everything that goes with it…world-class illusionist shows and Christmas television specials. If he fires me, I’ll be stuck in limbo and unemployed until my contract runs out. I hate the thought of someone else having complete control of my life. And I particularly detest him.
Giovanni is standing by the window when I walk into his expansive office. He’s wearing a tailored Italian business suit that would cost enough money to feed a family of five for a year. He turns around when he hears me come in and points to a chair in front of his large desk.
“Have a seat,” he says. “We need to have a talk.”
I take a seat silently and wait to learn what this is all about. He walks over to his desk, picks up a stack of papers stapled together, and hands them to me.
“This came in yesterday from our insurance company,” he says. “They’re threatening to drop your show’s liability insurance unless we make immediate changes.”
I blink at him in surprise. I wasn’t expecting this. He called me to his office to discuss insurance? That’s a first, and an immense relief. Normally, I’m not involved in the boring details of my show.
“Changes?” I lean forward to peek at the papers. “What do they want?”
He flips to the third page in the packet and points it out with a pen. “It’s all listed right here. They thought it might be best if I go over each item with you to make sure you understand. That’s why I’m handling this personally. Then I’ll need you to initial each point to show that you agree and will comply immediately with their requests. I trust there won’t be any issues.”
“Okay, sure,” I say agreeably, nodding. “No problem. Where do I need to sign?” How bad could it be? It’s not as if I’m cutting my assistants in half with a chainsaw.
“I’m glad you understand,” he responds. “Okay, let’s go over each point.” He reads, “You must cease usage of the following items in your show. This includes both the live performances and rehearsals. The disallowed items include, but are not limited to, firearms, explosives, blow-torches, knives, axes, and chainsaws. They’ve also listed C-4 dynamite here as a preliminary precaution, even though you haven’t used it yet.” He glances up from the papers and raises his eyebrows at me. “They must be anticipating your next move.”
I toss my set of papers back onto his desk. “Is this a joke? What the fuck do they expect me to do up there on stage? I’m an illusionist, not a street performer doing card tricks. It’s Las Vegas, for fuck’s sake! Everything is expected to be bad ass here. I’ve used everything mentioned except the dynamite. That’s why the show sells out every night. The threat of danger makes it exciting. That’s what sells tickets!”