CASINO SHUFFLE

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Authors: J. Fields Jr.

BOOK: CASINO SHUFFLE
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© 2011 J. Fields, Jr.

Ang Wang was hiding.

Hiding in the dark sucked.
 
It made him jumpy.
 
On top of that he was bent in half, a brass rod pressing on his spine.
 
He was crammed where no person was ever meant to be crammed, but he’d had to find a quick hiding spot because there were people out there.
 

Talking.
 

He hadn’t counted on them being here.
 
Figured they would have gotten everything done yesterday.
 
Weren’t they supposed to be super-efficient or something?

He was trapped, and it was only a matter of time before someone found him in this ridiculous fucking position.
 
He hated getting caught.
 

Ang Wang clutched the cool metal in his hand.

Maybe he would get in a lucky shot before they grabbed him.

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Antonio Cruz scanned the toiletries on the marble counter.
 
They were arranged in a sunburst patter of pastel shampoos, pearly conditioners, and scented lotions radiating outward from a thick wheel of orange peel soap.
 
“This is incomplete.”

Sonny Wu squinted, ticking his mental checklist.
 
“No green tea mouthwash.”

“We’re also missing mango hair gel and a vanilla face mask.”
 
Antonio unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and slipped his BlackBerry from its leather holster.
 
“Didn’t I forward the rider to everyone that detailed Miss Moon’s requests?”

“I’ll check with Maria.”

Antonio reviewed the hotel rider for their celebrity arrival once again, though in fact he’d committed it to memory a week ago, and then inspected the closets and drawers in the suite’s master bedroom.
 
They were stocked with complimentary robes, slippers, pillows, sleep masks and wrapped packages of flameless candles and aromatherapy oils.
 
The Sachem Suite was the premier two-story villa with private entrances on both of the casino hotel’s elite uppermost floors.
 
Antonio Cruz knew the placement of every piece of furniture, amenity, lamp, vase, statuette and accoutrement down to the ten Native Sun Casino matchboxes on their various end tables, nightstands and desktops.
 
As Head Butler, it was his duty.
 
In service to some of the world’s most powerful and wealthy individuals, it was his privilege.
 
He expected the same attention to detail from each individual on his butler staff, which included Sonny Wu.

A short, robust Puerto Rican woman strode into the master bedroom, hands on the swells of her hips.
 

Mira
.
 
I thought they wanted the extra amenities in the upstairs bathroom.”

Antonio appreciated the housekeeping manager’s suspicion of the error.
 
Maria was a mother of three beautifully mannered bilingual honor students, and took the same extreme care in the presentation of her team, both in appearance and performance.
 
Her tough demeanor and relentless pursuit of perfection often reminded Antonio of his own mother.
 
The nostalgia warmed him like a good brandy, and Antonio set his tone as neutral.
 
“Upstairs gets the standard arrangement plus extra toothbrushes and mouthwash.”

She made an impatient noise with her lips.
 
“That’s what I just said,
papi
.”

“Downstairs gets green tea mouthwash, mango hair gel and a vanilla face mask.”

It was only seconds before Maria shook her head and slapped her hands together.
 
“Ay,
Dios.
 
You’re right.”
 
As she left she said, “You’re always right, Antonio!
 
I don’t know why I forget that…”

Sonny stepped in and removed a box of condoms from his tuxedo jacket.
 
“Where do these go?”

“Upstairs guestroom, nightstand drawer.”
 
Antonio pushed the condoms towards Sonny’s chest.
 

Brandon
’s manager specified that as a
need-to-know
item.
 
Put them back into your jacket until Maria and her girls leave.”

“Sorry.”
 
Glancing over his shoulder Sonny pocketed the box.
 
“How long do we have?”

“Eleven minutes.”
 
Antonio consulted his BlackBerry a final time.
 
Satisfied, he scrolled down to the rider for Shannon Moon’s pop star boyfriend, known by the singular moniker of
Brandon
.
 
A rapper and DJ, he was performing in Twilight, the casino nightclub, on Saturday.
 
His hotel rider was more demanding and the head butler scrutinized it carefully.
 

A series of commands thrummed from the sitting area.
 
“On the center of the coffee table.
 
Remove the plastic covering.
 
To the left.
 
My
left.”

Antonio immediately recognized the voice.
 
“Sonny, give me two minutes and come to the rescue, please.”
 
Antonio stepped through the doorway and surveyed the scene.
 
The Director of Room Service, Phillip Roman, in a Brooks Brothers suit pressed to flat planes and sharp creases, stood rigid in the midst of several scuttling room service attendants arranging bowls and trays of fruit, nuts, and chocolates.

Antonio noted the broken capillaries on the gentleman’s nose that evidenced his consistent intake of single malt scotch.
 
The red blush to his cheeks and scalp, along with his pale hands yet sunburned wrists, explained his absence the previous day, which Antonio recalled was unseasonably sunny and perfect for a round of golf.
 
He mimicked the man’s military posture and addressed him by his rank from a previous life.
 
“Captain Roman.”

Roman scowled at a bowl of jellybeans.
 
“Get those out of here.
 
Replace them with nuts.
 
Immediately.”

Antonio stepped between the jellybeans and the outstretched hand of a room service attendant.
 
“Captain Roman,” he said, more directly.

Phillip Roman’s eyes swiveled and locked.
 
“What is it?”

Antonio decided to smile, though he could nearly feel the second hand on his Omega wristwatch as it clicked towards Shannon Moon’s impending arrival.
 
“The hotel rider for this guest specifically requested jellybeans be on-hand at the coffee table.”

Roman blinked deliberately, like a camera shutter.
 
He gestured toward one of his attendants.
 
“Fine.
 
Just put the nuts on the side table.”

Antonio halted the attendant.
 
“Pardon me, but Miss Moon is allergic to nuts.”
 
He smiled in way of an apology.
 
To Phillip Roman, he asked, “I presume you received the hotel rider for this suite?”

“Yes!”

“May I ask who ordered these extra amenities?”

Roman touched two fingers to the Windsor knot of his tie.
 
“I always put amenities into our VIP rooms.”

Not one to pause or fidget, it was obvious to Antonio that the Director of Room Service had spent most of the day rehabilitating from his jaunt of drinking, exercise and sun at the golf course, and was making quick systematic preparations for the impending VIP arrival without having studied the details.

“You cannot make additions without consulting me,” said Antonio, wishing his time was more forgiving so he might exercise tact.
 
He withdrew a folded slip of paper from his pocket.
 
“We have other VIP arrivals.
 
I know they would enjoy the delicacies you have prepared.”
 
Here, he quickly applied a dab of ego balm.
 
“The mint chocolate truffles look especially delicious, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

Roman glanced down at the truffles.
 
“I pride myself on giving an upscale presentation to our guests.”

“Quite right.
 
Please remove the mixed nuts, however, to avoid our celebrity guest from having an allergic reaction and asphyxiating.”
 
He smiled at the attendants scattered around the room.
 
“Everything looks wonderful where it’s been placed.
 
Thank you everyone.”
 
Just as Sonny Wu entered the living room Antonio guided him over.
 
“Captain Roman has been kind enough to supply amenities for our VIP arrivals.
 
Please escort him to the other suites.
 
Captain, again, my many thanks.
 
I’m sure I’ll see you at the operations meeting in the morning, yes?”
 
He had ushered them both to the door and now through the door and shut it firmly behind them before either one could interject.

Antonio turned to find Maria staring seductively at the chocolate covered strawberries.

She waved her hand over the plate.
 
“I didn’t see these on the list.”

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