Pepper’s having lunch with Wang. You cool with that?
He nearly toppled out of his lounge chair. When you were running a con, you never got too close to the mark. It was the first lesson he’d taught Pepper and Misty when he’d recruited them.
Tell Pepper no,
he typed back.
She already said yes,
Misty answered.
The laptop was balanced on Billy’s lap, on its screen the live feed from the hidden camera in Misty’s purse. Tommy Wang and Pepper were no longer in the picture anymore.
Get back here. Both of you
Yes, boss
He shut down his laptop and opened the slider into the suite. As the crew’s captain, it was his job to keep each member in line. One weak link was capable of breaking the entire chain, and he would not tolerate Pepper going off script. He walked down the hallway to the foyer. He wanted to be waiting when Misty and Pepper returned so he could read Pepper the riot act. Nearly canning Gabe last night had been brutal, and he wasn’t looking forward to this. The door opened and Misty entered.
“Where’s Pepper?” he asked.
“She decided to stay,” Misty replied.
“Why didn’t you grab her, make her leave?”
“How? It wouldn’t look right.”
Billy reminded himself that the sky palace was bugged. They hadn’t said anything incriminating, and he motioned for Misty to follow him outside to the balcony.
“Is Pepper out of her mind? If she slips up, we’re finished.”
“Don’t worry,” Misty said reassuringly. “Pepper has Wang eating out of her hand.”
“I know. I was watching, remember?”
“You sound pissed off.”
“I am pissed off. Pepper broke the rules.”
“Come on, Billy, it’s not that bad.”
“Don’t go there.”
Misty placed her arms on Billy’s shoulders as if to hug him. Then she gave him a flirtatious little smile intended to calm him down. It didn’t work.
“Go get Pepper, and bring her back here. I mean it. Right fucking now.”
She lowered her arms. “You going to can her?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“How about me?”
“It depends how this conversation ends.”
“Jesus, Billy. Why are you acting like such a prick? You having a bad day?”
“Who said I was acting like a prick?”
“I did. What’s come over you?”
He took a deep breath. Having breakfast with Maggie Flynn had done a number on his head. He’d thought his feelings for Mags would have faded but had discovered the opposite was true. It was a hard thing to deal with, so he was taking his frustration out on Misty.
“Sorry. I’ve had a rough morning. Now, go find Pepper.”
“What should I say?”
“Tell Pepper the boss needs to speak with her. And don’t take no for an answer.”
Misty looked worried. She and Pepper were a team. They’d appeared in porn movies together and cheated casinos together, and they also jointly owned a house and one day hoped to start a business. If Billy decided to cut Pepper loose, Misty would surely follow.
He opened the slider and ushered Misty off the balcony.
“Go get her,” he said.
Billy stayed on the balcony and tried to calm down. There were times when he wished he worked solo and didn’t have to deal with the headaches that employees brought.
Besides making his crew a lot of money, he’d managed to keep them out of jail. Every cheat in town had done time, except for his crew. Their records were spotless, and Billy liked to think it was because of the way he ran his operation.
His cell phone vibrated. Caller ID said DeSantis. Probably calling to find out why Billy wasn’t downstairs in the casino losing money. He took the call.
“Mr. C., how’s it going? Is everything to your satisfaction?”
“No complaints so far.”
“We haven’t seen you in the casino today.”
“I was just heading down to play some BJ.”
“Would you like the same table as yesterday? I can also arrange for the same dealer.”
“Why not.”
“I’ll have a seat reserved for you at the thousand-dollar table. See you soon.”
Billy went inside to change into his gambling clothes. Casinos were not subtle when dealing with whales. A good example was the whale staying at Caesars who’d requested a call girl be sent to his suite. When the whale didn’t appear in the casino the next morning, a pair of security guards went to the suite, broke the door down, and dragged the call girl out in her lingerie.
Billy had still not gotten the sky palace’s layout down. At the hallway’s end he came to a door and stuck his head in. Cory, Morris, and Travis sat in the private theater, gorging on burgers. Playing on the big screen was the remake of Ocean’s Eleven in which George Clooney and his fun-loving gang steal millions from the Bellagio’s vault, the only problem being that Vegas casinos keep their money in banks, just like everyone else.
“Where’d you get the food?” Billy asked.
“Room service. Want us to order you some lunch?” Travis asked.
“I’m going downstairs to play blackjack.”
Billy found his room and changed into a pair of white silk slacks, a Dolce & Gabbana T-shirt, and a Brunello Cucinelli sports jacket with a pocket square. He appraised himself in the full-length mirror and decided he looked like a player. He met up with Misty in the living room.
“Where’s Pepper?” he asked.
“I don’t know where they are,” Misty said.
“Did you try her cell phone?”
“I called and texted. She didn’t pick up. I’m sorry, Billy. This isn’t like her.”
“Is she in love?”
“It’s starting to feel that way.”
He told himself not to get angry. It had been his idea to have Pepper and Misty con Wang at backgammon, knowing their charms would win over the Chinese gambler. If Pepper and Wang had fallen in love as a result, he had only himself to blame.
“Can Pepper handle this guy?” he asked.
“Yeah, she can handle him.”
“Then we’ll have to hope for the best. I need to hit the casino. Care to join me?”
“Sure. Are you still angry at Pepper?”
“I’ll get over it.”
With Misty draped over his arm, Billy entered Carnivale’s casino. It wasn’t noon, yet the suckers filled the green felt tables, wagering money on games they had no chance of winning but believed they could. It was the American dream turned upside down, with the little guy never having a chance. DeSantis hovered nearby like a stalker.
“Ready to play some blackjack, Mr. C.?”
“Isn’t that why we’re here?” Billy replied.
“How are you doing in the chip department?”
“I’m a little low, Eddie.”
Billy signed a chit for a half million dollars’ worth of chips at the cage. Next stop was an empty chair at the five-thousand-dollar table. His ass hadn’t hit the seat when the dealer announced, “Place your bets, please.”
“Call me if you need anything,” DeSantis said.
“I’ll do that,” Billy said.
Billy needed to make up for lost time and slid ten thousand in chips into the betting circle. The average BJ game saw eighty-five hands dealt an hour, with the players losing 52 percent of the time. If he continued to bet ten thousand a hand, the casino would realize a seventeen-thousand-dollar-an-hour return.
Misty hovered behind Billy’s chair. It was a strategic position, as it would discourage other players from trying to strike up a conversation with him. Casinos often employed retired cops to roam the floor. These cops had a gift for grift and were good at spotting thieves. The less talking done to strangers, the better.