CASINO SHUFFLE

by Fields Jr. , J.

  © 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.”

  “Take everything to the housekeeping office,” said Antonio, “and enjoy, compliments of Captain Roman and his
culinary team.”

  Maria smiled and clapped her hands at two nearby housekeepers. “You heard the man. Take this stuff to the office. Put the strawberries on my desk. Don’t take any. I just counted them. Got that?” She glanced at Antonio. “Good bowtie. What’s the color – a little like a wet sponge.”

  “Champagne.”

  “That’s better than a wet sponge.”

  Sonny Wu entered from the hallway. “The good Captain is peddling his wares in the lower floor villas. He has a master key so I left him to it.”

  Antonio’s BlackBerry vibrated. A calendar appointment appeared on-screen. “Max.”

  “Max Allen. Corner Villa.” Sonny handed a bowl of truffles to a housekeeping attendant. “Want me to run over and check it out?”

  “No thank you, I should have time,” said Antonio.

  “You like to make sure things are just right for him.”

  “He’s been coming to the casino for five years,” said Antonio.

  “He trusts you,” said Sonny.

  “He’s very particular,” agreed Antonio. “But harmless.”

  “Max Allen, rich career poker player. And in here we have Shannon Moon, celebrity starlet and her boyfriend Brandon, the pop star. Sounds like it’s going to be an interesting weekend.”

  “Don’t forget Mrs. Reddington in 2507.”

  Sonny groaned. “I can’t no matter how hard I try.”

  “Did she ask you to dine with her again?”

  “She doesn’t ask anymore, she just orders me to stay. Why do I get the creepy old rich ladies and you get the high-rollers and celebrities?”

  Antonio straightened his bow tie in a nearby mirror. “I was considering having you attend to Miss Moon and Brandon while they’re here this weekend. With me providing guidance, of course.”

  Sonny smoothed down the front of his tuxedo jacket. “Wow. It would be an honor. Do you think you’ll be staying over this weekend?”

  “More than likely.”

  “I’ll put some things in the office for you before I go.” Sonny hesitated. “Do you need me to stay over this weekend?”

  “I would not hazard another call from your lovely wife. How is she feeling?”

  “Morning sickness is gone. Now she just eats.”

  “I’ve noticed that you’re tired most mornings, yet you skip your usual cup of coffee. Take home the cheesecake in the butler pantry. That may help you get some rest.”

  “Thanks Antonio. She has me running to Dunkin Donuts at all hours of the night. By 4am her stomach is stuffed with donut holes and my bladder is bursting with café latte. The cheesecake might hold her over.” Sonny checked his watch. “I’ll go set up your office before Shanndon gets here.”

  Antonio jolted. “Don’t refer to Shannon and Brandon as Shanndon. That was coined by the gossip magazines and Miss Moon detests everything related to the paparazzi press.”

  “Sorry, it just slipped out.”

  “Thank you, Sonny.” Antonio caught Maria as she came bounding down the stairs holding hair gel and a tub of face cream. “Can you complete the remainder of your duties in two minutes?”

  Maria leaned back and shouted, “Two minutes ladies! Look around! Leave nothing behind!” As room attendants swiped cloths over glass and gathered supplies, Maria pushed a utility cart across the parquet floor and called over her shoulder to Antonio. “We got this, papi. You get going.”

  “Call me if you need me.” Antonio jogged up the marble stairs to the second level of the Sachem Suite, running his silk handkerchief over the polished banister to erase stray fingerprints. At the top he plucked a blue string from the floor of the balcony. He called towards the guest bedroom to the Villa Housekeeping Attendant he assumed was nearby. “Check the floor before you go. Your mop is dropping strings.” He stepped to the open doorway and leaned into the room. “Hello?”

  The bedroom was empty. The air still smelled of vacuum cleaner ozone. The attendant had not sprayed air freshener. Through the glass doors to the right he could see that the bathroom lights were off.

  There was a soft creak from inside the armoire.

  Curious, Antonio grasped the handle.

  “Oh!”

  Antonio pivoted towards a young female attendant stepping out of the bathroom holding a bottle of air freshener.

  “Antonio! Scared me.”

  “My apologies, Simone. I did call out.”

  “I’m in my own little world when I’m cleaning. Didn’t know you were in here.” She saw his hand on the armoire door. “You checking for the robe? I always put in a new robe.” The housekeeping attendant stepped past him and yanked open the armoire.

  And shrieked.

  Inside the armoire was perched a spiky-haired Asian man, dressed in tan slacks and a blue jacket wedged between the pedestal safe and the brass clothing rod. He clutched a silver and black camera and immediately began snapping pictures. The inside of the armoire flashed.

  In retaliation, the housekeeping attendant straight-armed the air-freshener at him and pulled the trigger.

  The Asian man screamed and catapulted off the pedestal safe. The top of his head cracked the open door as he dropped to the carpet. The camera emitted a feeble buzz of defeat.

  Antonio grabbed the man by the shoulders of his jacket and yanked him upright. “Who are you?”

  “NO touch!” The Asian photographer wrestled free and launched himself out the bedroom doorway. His sneakers squeaked madly across the marble landing.

  BlackBerry in hand, Antonio turned to the attendant, “Are you okay?”

  She dropped to the bed and huffed out breath. “What the hell?” She stared at the open armoire door, eyes bulging. “That was some ninja shit right there.”

  From the landing they heard the slam of the entry door.

  Antonio spoke into his BlackBerry. “Security? Get Mark Ford on the phone. Right away, please.” In the guest bathroom he drew a glass of water. He handed it to the attendant. “Drink this slowly, dear.” Into the phone he said, “Mark?”

  The Security Manager said, “If you’re inviting me to dinner, I already ate. It’s taco day in the cafeteria.”

  “We had a paparazzo hiding in the Sachem Suite.”

  “A papa-what?”

  “A celebrity photographer.”

  “Oh. A paparazzi.”

  “Just one photographer. Singular. A paparazzo.”

  “Only you would know that. How the hell did he get in there?”

  “We’ll have to investigate that later. He’s Asian. Spiky hair. Carrying a camera.”

  “Asian with a camera. Right, shouldn’t be too hard to track on surveillance.”

  “Blue jacket, tan slacks. The room attendant sprayed him with air freshener.”

  “So I have to walk around smelling Asians with cameras?”

  “He’ll go to the nearest restroom to flush his eyes.”

  “I was making a joke.”

  “Shannon Moon is arriving any minute. The paparazzo may have overheard us talking about it.”

  “I’ll call surveillance.”

  “Good. How many officers are you bringing to the valet port for Miss Moon’s arrival?”

  “Five plus me.”

  “Bring another five. I was only half expecting paparazzi, but finding one hiding in the armoire moves my suspicions up a level.”

  “Just now you said paparazzi.”

  “I’m expecting more than one. En masse.”

  “Ten of my boys in the port. I’ll pull ‘em from somewhere.”

  “How many at the elevators?”

  “Just one. We have the elevator locked out for us.”

  “Any stationed up here on the floor?”

  “Nobody, but we’re watching the halls and main bank of elevators in surveillance. I still have ten posts on the casino floor, a guy standing post for a software tradeshow in the ballroom and one of our coded entry doors to the cage shit the bed and I got another guy there checking badges every time somebody wants to tak
e a smoke break.”

  “Understood. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes for Miss Moon’s arrival.”

  “Can’t wait to meet this girl. Glad I wore my good suit today.”

  “The blue pinstripe?”

  “No, the brown one.” There was a pause. “That’s the one my second wife always liked.”

  “And what was her general disposition?”

  “Insanely jealous. She hated it when other women looked at me. Oh.”

  Antonio allowed himself a small smile. “Five minutes.” He holstered his BlackBerry and took the empty water glass from the recovering attendant. “Are you feeling better now, Simone?”

  She exhaled loudly. “That man’s lucky I wasn’t carry my toilet bowl brush. Might’ve stabbed him.”

  Antonio patted her gently on the back. “You were a formidable opponent. I’ll replace the water glass in the bathroom. Why don’t you go have a cigarette in the cafeteria?”

  “How’d you know I needed one?”

  “Knowing what others need is what I do for a living.” His BlackBerry buzzed. As he answered he escorted the attendant out of the bedroom and into the guest hall. “This is Antonio.”

  “Antonio? Carl. I’ll be at the port in five minutes with Shannon Moon.”

  “She’s alone?”

  “Yup,” said the limo driver. “Said Brandon is coming in later tonight with his tour manager. I called dispatch to have a stretch pick him at the airport around eight. I didn’t figure an Escalade would be enough for him. Those pop star types have a big entourage.”

  “Miss Moon didn’t bring a personal assistant or her agent?”

  “Just me and her in here.”

  That fit the unassuming and private young woman Antonio had researched on-line, but still, he was somewhat surprised. “Any further special requests?”

  “Just make sure you don’t have any magazines with her picture in ‘em lying around. She tossed all mine out the back window.”

  Antonio distinctly remembered forwarding that information to the limousine manager just before checking all the magazines in the suite. “What’s her mood?”

  “She didn’t get mad. She threw them into the street when we were stopped at a traffic light. A bunch of drivers jumped out to pick them up, so she started signing them. Horns were going off like crazy behind us.”