by Myra Scott
“You say that like you think it’s a bad thing,” he said with a little apprehension in his voice.
“It shouldn’t be,” I admitted, “but the fact of the matter is, we as a casino are not equipped to handle this level of business. Something needs to change.”
Zane’s eyes widened, and the others quirked eyebrows at me.
“What are you talking about, Gage?” Zane asked.
“I’m talking about ending our relationship with La Torre.”
Zane’s jaw dropped, Bart’s eyebrows went up, and even Mick furrowed his in surprise at my statement. On a day to day basis, I tried to keep myself as composed as Mick, but sometimes I couldn’t keep my emotions as organized as he could.
“I hope you have a good backup plan to explain yourself,” Zane said, almost starting to laugh at how ridiculous my statement must have sounded to him.
I felt my cheeks burning at being called out by Zane of all people, but I pressed on, determined.
“I know the money seems great right now,” I admitted, “but we need to look at what’s happening on a smaller scale and think about what it means for the big picture.” I picked up my drink and started pacing the room, first gesturing to Mick.
“Mick doesn’t have to tell you again what our problems with staffing have been. We can’t keep up with the number of people we have to hire. We just hire anyone who walks in the doors without a chance to vet them or even get proper background checks done. That’s why two out of every three people we hire gets fired in their first two weeks.”
“And that problem is going to solve itself, if we have enough patience,” Zane said, trying to keep his voice calm, but the idea of splitting with La Torre was fighting words, and I knew it. He was digging his heels in already.
“Patience is one thing,” I said, “but how many sexual harassment charges are we going to have to deal with before then? Are we going to survive that? How long before something really serious happens because we’re hiring so liberally?”
“That’s part of our jobs,” Zane said firmly, and at that, Mick quirked an eyebrow.
“Actually, he has a point, Zane,” Mick said. “My issues with staffing haven’t really gone down. I just got back from dealing with another sexual harassment charge before this very meeting.”
“Cutting the flow of guests is the last possible solution to this, though,” Zane said, getting more tense with each passing moment.
“Don’t you see what this is doing to us in the long run, though?” I pointed out. “The more we lower our quality of hires and just hope that some of them turn out okay, the worse overall quality is going to get. We’re lowering the bar more and more as we try to rake in the profits of the sudden uptick in foot traffic.”
Mick nodded in agreement with me, and I felt a quiet jolt of pride knowing that he sympathized with my point. There was still some hesitation in his body language, which worried me, but I could only hope for so much from him.
“And then there are the security issues,” I added, nodding to Bart, who tossed back the last of his whisky. “Bart, I know security has been stretched way too thin since the nightclub opened.”
“You did say we’d be able to handle the overflow,” Bart said to Zane, “but I haven’t seen hide or hair of any actual measures to make that happen. I need some time to train up new security guards, and I ain’t got that. I don’t even have a new security system installed like you promised.”
“This is all a lot to ask in a short amount of time,” Zane said, looking like he was becoming aware that the room was turning against him. I felt a gut-wrenching pang of guilt when I realized he was starting to get cornered, but I wasn’t about to back down. One thought about Diego brought that anger back to the front of my mind. “We’re still in the first year of the partnership, and believe me, La Torre is having its own share of growing pains as well.”
“And there’s another part of the problem,” I said, unable to hold it back. “You’re getting so interested in La Torre’s business that an outsider would hardly realize we aren’t the same company.”
“If Zane and Diego ever decide to get married, we will be,” Mick pointed out. He meant it as a casual remark, but I felt my blood boiling, and I couldn’t keep it from showing.
“Well, as far as I know,” I snapped, “that isn’t on the table, and we need to make business decisions as if we’re in this together, just the four of us, like it always has been.”
Even Zane isn’t blind to the anger in my voice, and I know I have to dial it back a little. I take a long drink of the tequila cocktail while I gather my thoughts, but Bart speaks up for me.
“I gotta say, Zane, I’m with Gage on this one,” his gruff voice came to my rescue. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about the new figures we’ve been pulling down, but I swear, all it takes is for one of my guards to call in sick, and the whole night is guaranteed to be a nightmare.”
“Then you need to get someone to handle the scheduling better,” Zane said, defensive, and Bart had to hold himself back from snapping back at Zane.
“What we need,” I said, swallowing the cool alcohol, “is a total overhaul of the security systems we have in place.” I gestured back to Mick. “You know that brawl Mick got dragged into a while back, the one that nearly landed us in the middle of a lawsuit with some punk college kids? The shitty security camera footage saved us from getting prosecuted, but it also meant we couldn’t press charges against any of the kids who started the fight.”
Mick frowned at the reminder, but Bart gave a solid nod. “He’s right. And if we’d had enough staff working the floor that night, the fight might not have even gotten so bad that any of that was necessary.”
“We did everything we could,” Zane protested, putting his hands on his hips and furrowing his eyebrow. “We’ve been over this.”
“Everything we could wasn’t enough, Zane,” I pressed. “What we need is to back off all this acting like we’re the biggest casino on the Strip. We can’t handle it. Until we can, we’re just putting more guests at risk and lowering our standards for no good reason but some quick money grab that’s going to get eaten up by lawsuits if we can’t prevent things like what happened with Mick.”
“Enough of this!” Zane said in a raised voice that surprised all of this. He glared at us, drumming his fingers on his hip before speaking further. “I don’t know what all this is really about, but you’ve all been perfectly happy working with La Torre up until now. This is nothing but good for business. I refuse to break relations with Diego. We’re just going to have to find a way to make this work for all of us. I shouldn’t have to remind you,” he added with a glare to me and Mick, “that before this partnership, we were hemorrhaging money, thanks to La Torre. As partners, we’re both much better off. We just need to learn to adapt.”
“But we can’t adapt if we get overloaded and burn out,” Bart argued. “Look, Zane, Gage is right on the money here--we should back off just enough to give us time to cool off a little. Get some more guards in now that we know what kind of foot traffic to prepare for. Give me time to get those guards trained. Hell, Gage could probably use some help with the pit bosses, too,” he said, and I nodded.
“You don’t know how many different workers down in the casino have gotten fired in the last month,” I said. “This is unsustainable.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s unsustainable,” Mick said, and I shot him a glare. I thought he was on my side, but I might have underestimated how cautious he could be. “I agree that we need some breathing room, but cutting ties with La Torre...I’m not so sure. It’s been really, really good for us lately, and we can’t afford to go back to pre-partnership profits.”
“Exactly,” Zane said triumphantly.
“But,” Mick said with a cautionary glance to Zane, “I’m not saying I’m against the idea, either. Gage has a good point about my l
awsuit. Money is good, but Gage is right, if we can’t manage a casino that keeps up with its traffic, it’s going to come back and bite us in the ass before we have time to pick up the pace.”
Mick looked around, realizing that all of us were watching him as if he was the deciding vote in all this. He stood up and shook his head. “Look, I need time to think about this. I’m going to run some numbers in my office, and we can have another meeting about this soon.”
“This is ridiculous,” Zane said, exasperated, but with my second drink finished, I crossed my arms and held my ground, and Bart gave me an affirmative nod.
“But these are some issues we can’t let lie,” Bart said. “I’m sticking by Gage here, I want some concrete plans for change, and I want to see them in action.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen as long as we’re just letting the casino fall into chaos while we have meetings and drink tequila,” Zane said, shooting me a glare that made me want to throw my glass at him. “Let’s get back downstairs, the night is still young. We’ll talk about this again.”
With that, Zane swept out of the room at a brisk pace, and we all exchanged looks before Mick got up and followed him.
“That could’ve gone better,” Bart grumbled, standing up and heading over to the bar for another drink. “But thanks for bringing that up.” He poured himself a glass as I nodded silently, taking a few steps in his direction but not making eye contact.
Bart was gruff, but he had a way of reading people, and the way he was looking at me just then told me he had an idea of why I called this meeting. “Just be sure you know what you’re asking from Zane, Gage,” he said meaningfully, giving me a stern eye.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I hear you,” I said with a rueful sigh. “But regardless, we both know the simple facts. Something’s got to change.”
“I’ll drink to that, brother,” he said, pouring me my own glass of whisky.
We clinked our glasses together and drank, for different reasons.
It was going to be a long week.
Thank you for reading The Perfectionist. Hope you enjoyed Mick and Eric’s story. Please consider leaving a review where you purchased this book. For self-published authors, reviews can make a world of difference in helping a book show up in searches, and it shows what readers are thinking and want to read next.
Next up is Gage’s story in The Hothead, a friends-to-lovers romance with simmering jealousies, blazing heat and a love jackpot where you’d least expect it.
Feel free to message Myra anytime at [email protected] and let her know how you like the books. She welcomes all feedback.
Happy reading!
Myra
ALSO BY MYRA SCOTT
Sweet Temptation
Calling the Shots
Never Look Back
Hell Let Loose
Blown Away
Hurts So Good
Sin City Sentries series:
The Charmer – Book One
The Perfectionist – Book Two
The Hothead – Book Three
The Protector – Book Four