and smiles from my staff, from the maids to the front desk receptionist. I straighten my shoulders and return their greetings, feeling a calm come over me. The familiar routine reassures me, allows me to forget the fact that I have Lilly under my charge for the week to come…until I get a harsh reminder.
Around 4:00 p.m. I stop off for a much-overdue lunch, taking a seat at my favorite in-house restaurant. La Petite Coquette.
“Bonjour, Monsieur Miln-air!” Jacques Renaud, the Michelin-starred chef who runs the show in this joint greets me personally, his French accent emphasizing the second syllable of my name. “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you Jacques.” I go to a small table in the back, hidden from view. A white sign reading reserve—reserved—sits on the white linen tablecloth. That sign is always there. This is my spot. Jacques has his team under strict orders to keep it cleared for me at all times.
“What can we do for you today, Monsieur Miln-air?” The older gentleman looks down at me with twinkling eyes, the corners crinkling as his mustache twitches with a smile.
“Something simple. Small. I’m not very hungry.”
“A little salad Niçoise perhaps? We have a wonderful tuna in fresh, flown direct from Nova Scotia today. It is fantas-tique!” He pauses to rub his oversized belly with a grin. “These Canadians really have the best, you know, although it pains my French heart to admit it.”
“That sounds perfect. Thank you, Jacques.” I watch him bustle into the kitchen and smile as I hear him barking orders at his kitchen staff through the door. I had to pay big bucks to get Jacques away from one of the top restaurants in Paris but it’s been worth every penny. He doesn’t just dish up wonderful food but adds an authenticity to the atmosphere here that I appreciate. Food is his life. Just like the casinos are mine.
In less than ten minutes, I have a fresh salad in front of me, along with a glass of sparkling water with lemon. “Bon appetite, Monsieur!” Jacque says before hustling back into the kitchen. I pick up my fork but before I can even take one bite, my phone starts buzzing on the table. The call isn’t one I can ignore, I see with a quick glance. It’s my security team.
I let the fork drop with a clatter and reach for the phone. “Yes?”
“Mr. Milner, we have a problem at Exit C.”
“What?” There’s no time for niceties when security issues arise.
“Miss Madison is here.”
“Which one?”
“Sir?”
“Which Miss Madison? There’s two.”
“Oh, uh…” The voice on the other end of the line pauses with uncertainty and I hear a muffled exchange on the other side of the line. God damn it, they should know this off the bat, I think to myself with irritation. My stomach growls hungrily, likewise pissed off at the interruption.
“Lilly, sir.” The voice returns. “She was trying to leave the property.”
“Hold her. I’ll be right there.” I push my chair back swiftly and throw my white linen napkin onto the table, annoyed. Maybe she’s just as nutty as her sister after all.
I arrive at the Fortuna’s exit C to find two of my best security guards, Ben and Mike, subduing a scrambling Lilly.
“Get your hands off me!” Her voice is shrill as she tries to rip her wrist out of Ben’s grasp.
“Hands off, Ben.” I step forward. The Lilly in front of me is an entirely different creature from the one I left in the rumpled floral dress at the boutique with Sarah just this morning. She’s clad in a loose fitting cotton t-shirt dress, cinched at the waist with a tiny gold chain. The thin material of the dress allows for just a hint of the straps of a white bra she’s wearing underneath to be seen. She has on a pair of wedge sandals, likewise white and gold. A perfect match to her outfit. Her hair has been freshly washed and is stick-straight and glossy. Clearly, Sarah sent her on to the salon after the shopping spree was done.
“She was trying to leave the property, sir,” Ben says, giving Lilly a chastising look as she screws up her face at him angrily. Mike hovers behind her, creating a physical barrier between her and the sidewalk that would lead her off the casino’s boundary.
“I wasn’t!” Lilly spits out. “I was just exploring. You said I could go wherever.” She whirls on me and stamps her foot, her cheeks burning bright red. Impatient, she