that Lilly left, we’ve done it more often. I guess you could call it a new tradition.
“The usual. 9:00 p.m.” He nods and turns to walk away.
Slowly, I’ve come to get to know Terry better. In retrospect, it’s completely nuts. I’ve known the man for over a decade, but we rarely crossed that professional line. Given how much trust I place in Terry when it comes to my businesses, it only follows that I should be able to trust him as a friend as well.
I exit the maze of Fortuna’s backrooms and hallways, and head out onto the floor. Over the course of the day, I progress through the various departments of the massive property one by one. It’s the usual routine. Touch base with our senior food & bev manager who looks over Fortuna’s many restaurants. Stop by guest reception for the latest updates on occupancy numbers and issues. Pause at housekeeping and janitorial to ensure all is in order. As usual, I’m on my feet for the majority of the day as I circulate and check in on the casino’s numerous components.
A good business owner keeps strict oversight over every aspect of operations. That’s what I’ve been telling myself for years. But Fortuna is a well-oiled machine by now. I’ve managed to hire excellent staff for every division and I pay them well—well above the Vegas industry standard—so I get good results. I hate to admit it to myself, but as I make these usual rounds, I’m bored.
Something is missing. I’d long ago managed to carve out my reputation as one of the city’s most successful casino owners. I don’t have to prove anything anymore to Jack, or to my old rivals…or to myself. With the purchase of the Monte Carlo property, I’ve honored Jack’s memory, paying him back in a way…for helping me to get justice for my father’s death.
I should be totally satisfied with all that I’ve accomplished. And I am. But this routine doesn’t hold any flavor for me anymore. That’s a fact that I have to come to terms with.
Shortly before 9:00 p.m. I make my way to La Petite Coquette and take my seat at the table in the back.
“Mr. Miln-air!” Jacques is on hand within seconds. “So good to see you again.” He shakes my hand vigorously. “A glass of red? Or some food perhaps?”
“Just a glass of wine, please Jacques.” I see Terry approaching in the distance. “Make that two, actually.” I nod to Terry as he sits down across from me.
“Of course!” Jacques beams at Terry. Within minutes, we’re all settled in with two glasses of red wine.
I inhale, breathing in the fragrant aroma deeply, and then cheers Terry.
“You look well,” he takes a sip before continuing, “that trip back to Kentucky seems to have done you good.”
“Well…yes. I needed a little break.” I loosen the knot on my tie and undo the top button of my shirt, feeling the stress of the workday melt away.
“You seemed a bit down these past months.” Terry removes his glasses as he’s talking and polishes them. By now I recognize the gesture. He does this when he’s preparing to broach a delicate topic, or say something he doesn’t really want to say. “People were talking.”
“People?” I try to keep the edge out of my voice. I know Terry is just the messenger and not the person I should be directing my anger towards.
“Employees. Even staff from other casinos. You know how Vegas is. People talk.” He shrugs. “You have a reputation to uphold in this town. I’m only telling you this because I’d hate to see it needlessly tarnished.”
“I know.” I nod, looking at my glass of wine, swirling the dark red liquid gently.
“That’s why I brought up the Chicago guys this morning.”
“That’s fair. I can appreciate that you’re just trying to look out for me.” I had found it a bit strange that Terry would report to me regarding rumors of Tony and Bobby being back in town, without having any actual evidence to back up those rumors. “No sighting yet, I take it?”
“None.” He shakes his head. “I just thought it best to be proactive.”
“Absolutely.” Terry is treading lightly but I can tell what he’s getting at. In the months since Lilly’s departure I’ve been slipping. It even started on the day she left, when I forgot all about my evening meeting with Terry. “I’ve been…off…these last months,” I acknowledge to Terry. “Fucking kills me to admit it but…”