AMA Week - 358-361

AMA week continues thanks to our resident Patron Saint. This is Release 4 of 5, a bundle with ePub and PDF files will come out at the end of the set.

Cheers!

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Chapter 358

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked quickly as I answered my phone and stepped away from the maintenance staff. We’d been going over the table arrangements that needed to be deployed in the VIP ballrooms for the next bookings and as usual, I had one useful staffer and two useless ones, so they were going to take twice as long to do the job and then I’d have to come in and the corners that got cut.

“Is it safe to talk?” Cattie asked me.

I smiled a little and crossed the ballroom so the guys were sure not to overhear me. “It is now,” I said quietly.

“Good morning, Master,” Cattie chuckled warmly.

“Mmm, Catherine,” I sighed.

“Still getting used to it?” she asked.

“Getting used to how it makes me feel all warm and hungry for you,” I murmured.

“Well, you didn’t have to go and say that,” Cattie laughed. “Now I’m all warm and hungry for you.”

“OK, horndog,” Cassidy said in the background of the call. “If I have to listen to one side of this conversation I’m going to get all horny, and you won’t like me when I’m horny.”

I snorted, and Cattie blew a raspberry at my fiancee and then came back to the phone. “I’m calling because we are asking your permission to take dirty photos for you, Tiger,” Cattie said. “The botanical gardens were super cool, but Cass thinks we’ll get some really good normal photos for our socials at the Neon graveyard, but if we get the chance to do something cheeky…”

Smiling, I looked down at my dress shoes and shook my head. The Neon Graveyard was a sort of museum that collected all the big old signs that were decommissioned throughout the history of Las Vegas - it was a cool spot, and even cooler at night if they turned the signs on. A clear summery day wouldn’t be quite as dramatic, but they’d still get good shots.

“I give you my permission,” I said quietly. “But only if there is an almost-zero chance of you two being caught or spotted. I don’t want anyone else getting to see what’s all mine, and I definitely don’t want you two getting into trouble without me.”

“Thank you, Tiger,” Cattie said. “I promise to keep Cassidy in check.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who decided I wanted to take titty pics today,” Cassidy complained in the background.

“Yeah, but of the two of us, who is more likely to get caught?” Cattie asked her.

“You, because it’s harder for you to cover back up, Miss Tits McGee,” Cassidy said.

“Excuse me,” Cattie retorted. “I prefer Lady Tits McGee, Ruler of the Tit-Witch Forest, First of Her Name.”

“Well, excuse me, Lady McGee,” Cassidy laughed.

“Do you two need me for anything else?” I asked, rolling my eyes at their antics even over the phone. I hoped to God they were in the car and not in public.

“No, Master,” Cattie said. “Thank you. Love you.”

“Love you too,” I said.

We hung up and I headed back over towards the maintenance guys.

“Love you too,” one of them chuckled, clearly having seen my mouth forming the words since he couldn’t have heard me.

“I know, cringe,” I said. “But your Mom likes me to be sweet to her after I spend the night at her place.”

“Oooooh,” both of the other maintenance workers crowed, slapping their thighs and laughing at their buddy.

“Hey, I’m just saying, we can’t take personal calls while at work,” the maintenance worker said, trying to defend himself and try not to chuckle as well.

“That’s why they pay me the moderately-OK bucks,” I said. “Now come on, let’s get this room set up.

- - - - -

“If I were to kill Jonas, would you help me bury the body in the desert?”

I looked up from my laptop in alarm, my office phone pinched between my ear and my shoulder. “That should be it for now, Lucy,” I said. “I appreciate you being so detail-oriented, I’m sure it will make this whole process run smoothly.”

Tracy, my fellow Event Manager, made a face somewhere between ‘Oh, fuck, didn’t realise you were on the phone’ and ‘Oh, fuck, a ‘detail-oriented’ client. RIP.’ She didn’t hesitate to come into my office and sit down in one of the chairs in my little meeting/presentation area where I could host clients without being stuck behind my desk.

“I look forward to hearing your plans and seeing the quote, Robert,” Mrs Lucy Drake said. And then she hung up.

I blew out a long breath and set the phone down. “OK,” I said. “Thanks for that.”

“I didn’t know,” Tracy waved me off, already letting go of whatever flash of guilt she’d felt. “That one sounded like it’s going to be a pain.”

“I’m entirely sure she’s shopping around,” I shrugged. “I’ll modify the standard Wedding package and send it out to her, but I’m not chasing it. Especially since she’s the mother of the groom.”

“Oh,” Tracy grunted, then snorted and widened her eyes. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. There was a hierarchy of ‘bad clients’ when it came to weddings. Surprisingly, Bridezillas were rated as the third worst. Mother-of-the-Bride-zillas were second. Mother-of-the-Groom-zillas held the top sport with a bullet. The fact that Lucy Drake was shopping around for a venue, and was what we liked to call ‘detail-oriented’ as code for ‘a micromanaging pain in the ass,’ hinted heavily that she likely didn’t even have the permission of the couple to even be looking on their behalf. “Alright - what did Jonas do now?”

“What hasn’t he done?” Tracy grunted. “First off, FYI, he tried to just steamroll his way into all your bookings for last week and started touching things.”

I groaned. “Did anything go wrong?” I asked. The trip had been planned for months, but a couple of the weddings had been booked for over a year so once I’d known I wasn’t going to be available for the week I’d worked with the clients and my coworkers to make sure each event was getting covered by someone who wasn’t me.

“No calls to Doug,” Tracy said. “Just not… right, compared to how you run it. Rumour is that Dayana threatened to drown him in a chocolate fountain one night.”

“Well, to be fair, she does hate chocolate fountains,” I snorted. “But what’s going on now that makes him ‘bury him in the desert’ worthy?”

Tracy scoffed. “The budget shit,” she said, slouching down lower in the chair. Part of me was proud that I’d been able to create a working relationship with her that made her comfortable to talk openly and relaxed in my office - she was a fifty-year-old hippy at heart but loved art too much to not be steeped in the expense of it. She’d worked at a gallery in New York through her twenties and thirties, then DC in her forties before she got headhunted by the Vaso to come run their gallery. The fact that she got access to not just the funds to bring in interesting collections but also to sponsor artists on behalf of the Owner board as ‘investments,’ had been too good for her to pass up.

Of course, she had to work with us Neanderthals who didn’t understand half of her assurances that ‘It’s art and it’s beautiful, and yes it really is that expensive.’

“Don’t tell me he’s avoiding the cuts,” I said.

“No, but he got more of it shuffled over to me,” she sneered. “Fucking hell - Walt fucks up, we all pay for it. You’ve seen the damage?” I nodded, but she wasn’t even paying attention. “It’s ridiculous that the Gallery gets the shaft when I’m generating tax breaks and securing grants out the ass for this place. I’m fucking Gandalf and goddamn Pippin Took is… ugh!”

Tracy knew I was a nerd, and I appreciated the fact that she tried to find ways to relate to me. She wasn’t very good at it, but at least she tried.

“How bad is it?” I asked. “What’s the impact?”

She sighed and slouched even further, her back practically pressed to the seat. “I’m going to need to cut the Rosenberg collection, which was a big get even if they were charging me an arm and a leg. I’ll probably have to put off bringing over… two of the Sheikh collections from Abu Dhabi? By a couple of months. And there’s no way I can scrape together a ‘Students of Las Vegas’ exhibit when the only classes running are University summer programs.”

“What about glass?” I mused.

“What?”

“There’s that show on Netflix about glassblowers. Maybe see if there’s a glassblowing… group, I dunno, in the city that would be up for showing you their stuff and getting a free week or two to exhibit in a prestigious gallery.”

She gave me a hooded-lid look that said she wasn’t actually looking for me to problem-solve.

“So how exactly are you planning to murder him?” I asked, pivoting.

“Definitely not by chocolate fountain,” Tracy said, sitting back up. “Too sticky. I’m thinking I'll lure him up to the roof and push him off.”

Chapter 359

“Tan,” I called.

The kid - and it felt weird thinking of him like that since he was only really a few years younger than me, but he acted like this was his first job so he gave off ‘the kid’ vibes - didn’t turn around.

“Tan,” I called again. He was looking up at one of the big wall mounts in the main Ballroom.

I sighed and went over to him. “Tan,” I said again, and he jumped a little even though I didn’t have my voice raised.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I just-” He looked back up at the wall mount. It was a big brass ring that could be used to hang a bunch of different decor items we had available, from drapes to garlands to banners. I’d even hung a string of skulls from it once - fake skulls, but still - when we hosted a Wiccan award ceremony.

That was a client we didn’t talk about around the Owners. Fun ladies (mostly), and the Owners likely wouldn’t have had any actual problems with them, but they had to have the appearance of fundamentalist Islamic ideals at times so sometimes we kept a buffer between them and the more… Vegasy things that came up.

“I think this mount is crooked,” Tan said, tilting his head the same way he had been before.

“It’s not,” I said.

“No, it is,” he said before I could explain further.

I sighed. “It looks crooked because of the way those lights there,” I pointed to the ceiling, “cast shadows when those lights there,” I pointed to the nearby lights in the corner, “aren’t on. Believe me, we’ve checked, it’s centred and straight.”

He tilted his head the other way. “Are you sure?”

“Yep,” I said. “Now come on, we need to head down into storage to pull the proper linens and I’m gonna need an extra pair of arms.”

- - - - -

“I’m gonna get fired.”

“You’re not going to get fired,” I sighed.

Walt slumped into the same seat in my office that Tracy had been occupying that morning. “No, I’m pretty sure Doug is going to look for a way to fire me. Like, it’s bad, dude.”

I grunted and closed out my emails, looking over at him. He’d left his suit jacket in his office down the hall - after the all-hands meeting that morning he’d been hosting a pool party after lunch, and there was a live band playing poolside sometime that evening. He was allowed to wear pretty much whatever he wanted when he was running those events, but when he was up in the office he had to be in suits.

And, begrudgingly, I had to admit he wore them well. I always felt just a little too stiff in mine, even if Cassidy and Dayana always assured me I was fine.

“You got the vendor approved through the regular processes?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Contracts were all buttoned up and signed?”

“Yeah.”

“Insurance was set up and paid?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not going to get fired,” I said.

“OK, but have you seen what happened?” he groaned.

“The aftermath and a video,” I admitted. “Though I could hear you in the background of the video trying to get control of the situation, so that’s a point in your favour. I don’t know what I would have done any different if I had been in charge that night instead of you.”

He shrugged and groaned.

“Is your band here yet for tonight?” I asked.

He checked his watch and then closed his eyes, leaning back in the seat. “Should be here in a half hour.”

I shook my head at him since he couldn’t see me. “You gonna camp out here until then?”

“You mind?” Walt asked without opening his eyes. “Doug won’t come looking for me here.”

“Sure,” I said. “You do you, buddy.”

“Thanks, dude.”

- - - - -

“Could you please go talk to her?” Doug asked me.

It was right at the end of the work day - my evening was clear, like most Mondays, since there were rarely any big events on a Monday. The dinner in the Sunset VIP ballroom didn’t need my supervision or an appearance, so the shift managers would handle it.

Doug knew that coming to me at this time of day was throwing me under the bus. He also knew that I was likely his only hope of convincing Vanessa to go out of her way to help him out with the budgeting stuff.

“Really, Doug?” I sighed.

“I would really appreciate it,” he said. “She scares me a little.”

“She scares everyone a little,” I countered.

“Everyone except you,” he said. “You saved her life.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t argue. That was how I’d gotten on Vanessa’s good side. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll go talk to her.”

- - - - -

“Heeey,” I said, wincing as I presented the Venti Starbucks Cold Brew. Black, bitter and still cold as ice without the ice. We didn’t have a Starbucks in the building so I’d had to go out to get it - and damn straight I was expensing it.

Vanessa turned slowly in her chair. She nominally shared an office in the marketing department with Azir, but more often than not I saw the guy working… literally anywhere else in the building. That meant that Vanessa’s ‘two-person office’ was more like a one-person office and rivalled the size of any of the VPs.

“You know I can’t be bribed,” she said coolly as she gestured for me to hand her the cup.

“I know,” I said, handing it over and then producing the chocolate chip cookies I’d picked up from the bakery downstairs. They were closing up for the afternoon when I got there but I managed to finagle a couple of them along with getting them heated in the oven.

She narrowed her eyes as she took them as well. “You know I’m not going to do Doug any favours.”

“I know,” I repeated myself, gesturing and silently asking if I could sit. She nodded and took a sip of her cold, black coffee.

“So this is all a pointless gesture.”

I shrugged. “Pointless? Maybe, though having an excuse to bring you a pick-me-up at the end of the day isn’t awful.”

She narrowed her eyes just a little more, looking at me through slits.

“How’s Sicily?” I asked.

She let out her breath and smirked at me. It was more emotion than she gave most people in the office. “My cat is doing fine, Robbie.”

I reached into my pocket and slowly pulled out the cat toy that I’d pulled from the stash I kept in the bottom drawer of my desk across the building for just this sort of occasion. When Vanessa saw what it was she snorted and rolled her eyes, holding out her hand. I gave it to her; the scrunchy, crackly toy looked like a little cartoon salmon and was designed to have catnip put inside. It would also look very cute if it was being carried around in the mouth of a cat.

“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” Vanessa said, actually giving me a little grin.

“That’s what I’m told,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“I can shift over one month of those commercials, but not next month. I need lead time,” Vanessa said as she tossed the toy onto her desk and broke off a piece of cookie from inside the little bag I’d carried them in, popping it into her mouth.

“That sounds entirely fair to me,” I said. “Thank you.”

“You’re lucky you’re good at your job,” she said. “And are very good at kissing ass.”

“Vanessa,” I mock-gasped, putting a hand to my chest. “What are you suggesting? That I can’t just happen to bring you gifts like this just because.”

“If you did I’d be even more suspicious,” she said, shaking her head.

“Cassidy says hello, by the way,” I said. She hadn’t, but only because she didn’t know I had to interact with the blonde today or else she would have.

“Well, tell her I say hello back,” Vanessa said. “Now get out of here before I decide Doug should learn to do his own dirty work.”

“Thanks, Vanessa,” I said, standing up and leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

Her glare, combined with her smile, at the move was always funny to me because I knew she liked it even if she would have murdered anyone else for being so presumptive. What was a kiss on the cheek after we’d been in a full-on lip lock before, though?”

Chapter 360

What I kind of wanted to do was just lean back into my driver’s seat, blast my air conditioning, and just drive home. Mondays suck. Mondays after a week away? Even worse.

I really did actually like my job, but Jesus Christ coming back after a bit of distance made some of it feel so dumb.

And because I was some sort of insane fool I couldn’t really just take a quiet drive.

“Hi, Tiger,” Leia answered the phone, chipper as hell.

“Hey, Sunshine,” I said with a smile, talking hands-free as I pulled out of the staff parking lot and started taking the back roads to avoid needing to drive the Strip. “Just finished work and wanted to hear your voice.”

Leia was thrilled and told me about her day - which had only really started a few hours ago, since she’d slept away half the morning after a late night catching up with her roommates, and then lounged around and done all her unpacking and organising from the trip.

Then she told me I should probably call Terra, told me she loved me, and sent me off.

So I called Terra.

“Hey, dude,” Terra sighed for her answer as she picked up my call.

“You OK, little elf?” I asked.

The use of that particular nickname made her snort a chuckle. “Just finished a workout a couple of minutes ago and still catching my breath,” she explained. “Gotta burn off all these icky emotions somehow. Not to mention all the junk food from the trip. I don’t have you to do hardcore cardio with.”

I wasn’t sure whether she was working out at home or at a gym, so I let the very blatant euphemism go. “Anything I can do?”

“Other than hardcore cardio?” she asked with an audible smirk.

Snorting, I shook my head. “Are you at home or the gym?”

“Gym,” she said, still smirking.

“You’re bad,” I laughed.

“Mmm,” she hummed quietly. “Are you calling me a… bad girl?” 

“Extra bad,” I said. “Seriously, Terra. What do you need?”

“I’ve got some friends here who I’m going drinking with tonight,” she said. “At a gay bar, so unless someone even hotter and more persuasive than Cassidy is there then I’ll still be all yours at the end of the- Wait, fuck, that’s not funny because- Balls, Robbie, I didn’t mean to make it sound like I might-”

“Terra,” I interrupted her. “Honey. It’s fine. I’m not hurt.”

She sighed in frustration. “That was a really stupid thing for me to joke about.”

“Hey,” I said. “I love you.”

She sighed again. “You sure, dude?” she asked quietly. “I’m kind of a fucking mess.”

“A gorgeous, sweet, cool, fun, funny, fucking mess,” I smiled. “The exact kind that now guy with two brain cells to rub together would even consider fucking up a relationship with.”

“I love you too, Robbie,” she mumbled.

“What can I do?” I asked for a third time.

“Nothing, you just did it,” Terra said and then sniffed softly. “I’ll be good, OK? Don’t worry about me. Except I know you will, so don’t worry too much. Now I need to go shower and get changed, so… think of us in the shower on the houseboat, then go use that energy on one of your little sluts.”

I wasn’t quite home yet when we hung up, so even though my mind (and my cock) really did start thinking of how we’d made love in the shower at the end of our first time together on the trip, I made better use of my time.

“If you were a type of cake, what type of cake would you be?”

“What?” I laughed.

Becca snickered. “Nothing, it’s just a stupid personality quiz I remembered today. Inside joke from high school.”

We talked about nothing for the last five minutes of my drive home, and then another five minutes as I sat in our little parking lot with the drive off. I told her about the fireworks incident. She told me about the latest stink happening on social media about a photographer being weird with models.

“So, did you figure it out?” she asked as we were winding down.

“Figure what out?”

“What kind of cake you are,” she chuckled.

“Oh, well, I guess… hmm,” I said. Then I broke into a grin. “Actually, that’s a pretty easy one. Angel Food Cake, because I’ve got a bunch of Angels around me.”

“Corny,” Becca cried. “Totally corny. I’m telling everyone.”

“I thought it was supposed to be an inside joke?”

“The question was, not your answer,” she snickered. Then she sighed. “God, I love you, Tiger. How the fuck did we get here? In a week?”

A magical App, I thought with a grimace. “Open communication, open hearts, and really great sexual chemistry,” I said instead.

We signed off with I Love You’s, and I finally left the cool of my truck and walked around our building. Cass was parked out front so I knew that my fiancee and my girlfriend were home, and as I came in the front door I cleared my throat. “I’m home,” I announced.

“We’re up here, Tiger,” Cass called. “Don’t come up!”

That… was not what I expected.

“Um, OK,” I called back. “I’d kind of like to get changed?”

There were footsteps and then some of my clothes came flying over the bannister and landed on the stairs.

“No peeking, Tiger,” Cattie said. “We’re getting ready for our two-on-one date and want to wow you.”

“I don’t need anything special to be wowed,” I said. “But I appreciate the effort for me to be extra wowed. Just, uh, remember we’re walking the Strip, so think of your feet.”

“We’ve got it covered, Tiger,” Cass called down. “Now leave us be. Call Zenya, I bet she wants to have some phone sex.”

“She’s streaming right now,” I heard Cattie say.

“Never mind, Zenya’s busy working,” Cass corrected herself. “Just, like… I dunno. Be lovable or whatever.”

I’d grabbed the clothes and shook my head as I headed back towards the kitchen. “Be lovable?” I murmured to myself. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Chapter 361

I felt like a king.

To be fair, I wasn’t quite as pimpin’ as walking through the strip club back on the trip, just me, JC and a dozen hot women dressed up for a night out.

Still, though, even dressed ‘regular hot,’ it felt wild to walk into the Sahara with Cassidy and Cattie on my arms. Cassidy was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged her like a second skin, her old and well-loved Converse shoes, and a tight white crop top that hugged her ribs with a looser, high-crop sweater that was pretty much all sleeves, shoulders and hood. Her violet hair was styled loose and ‘messy’ in that way that was almost sex hair but not quite, and she’d gone dramatic but not flashy with her makeup, all in greys and black to colour match with Cattie.

And Cattie had gone Goth Prep for the night, so much so that I’d almost expected her to smile and have fake vampire teeth in. A black and white schoolgirl kilt, knee-high black socks, all-white Vans. Her top was a black and white knit sweater with lots of drapey sort of volume and sleeves that hooked down around her thumbs. She’d teased me before we left by proving that her bust - which was pretty well hidden under the high-necked sweater - was swinging free under there. Her black hair was in a messy updo with the same ‘casual sex’ look that Cass had, and her makeup was done almost the same as my fiancee except she’d gone for a black lip instead of a basic lipgloss.

Sure, we weren’t dressed up in a tuxedo and ballgowns, and we weren’t strutting down the strip in either stripper clothes or Couture, but we looked good, the girls looked fucking hot, and we drew the glances of guys as we walked the sights.

Now, to be fair, walking the Strip is kind of an onerous process. The road itself could get up to twelve lanes across in places if you counted turning lanes, and it was generally busy as fuck. The sidewalks could be even worse. Scratch that - the sidewalks were always worse. Especially in the evening and at night when the worst of the heat of the day was over.

There were dozens of routes people suggested to take when walking the Strip. Every concierge had two or three of them memorized that they could give to visiting guests so they start and end at their ‘home hotel,’ and I made sure to have a couple on hand when I was handling events. But, for all that the Vasoseh was a gorgeous (and luxurious) hotel, it wasn’t a touristy hotel. It didn’t have the kitsch of the main sights. I pointed it out to Cattie as we were walking, but we didn’t stop in.

The route I had planned was designed to maximise two elements - the first was getting to our dinner plans on time, and the second was hitting the more dramatic and romantic spots when the lighting would be best - which generally meant once it was dark.

Cass and I had both prepped Cattie for the walk and what to expect. The crowds, and keeping one eye on what was going on around her even while she was enjoying the views. Pickpockets, aggressive sales and scams, aggressive sex workers, and super drunk people only got more and more densely packed with tourists as the sun set. Anywhere that looked like a great place to get a good view of something was also being staked out by someone who wanted to accost you. It was also… improbable to see everything in one go. You could technically do it, but it would be an all-day affair and you wouldn’t get any time to really enjoy much.

She was coming to live with us in Vegas, though, so we had all the time in the world to enjoy anything we wanted.

We walked the paths, dipping into several of the Casinos just so she could get a look at famous spots she’d seen in movies and TV shows. I strategically bypassed some of the biggest hotels, any one or two of which were flashy and so full-on stuff to do that one or two could fill an entire evening if you know the right time to hit them up.

The issue was that our destination wasn’t exactly near the biggest, flashiest places, and not technically on the strip. Once we got to the Venetian (which we only peeked in because it really was worth a long experience) I ordered up an Uber.

I’m sure the driver hated me for making him come around onto the Strip, but I mean… that’s the job.

“OK, where are we going now?” Cattie asked. “I thought the whole date was on the trip?”

Yeah, buddy, I thought as the driver tilted his head at that, listening in. One guy, two smokin' hot ladies. A date. You heard right.

“One of my favourite restaurants in the city,” I said.

“Mostly because they always comp you our meal,” Cassidy interrupted with a little smirk.

“One of my favourite restaurants in the city,” I repeated myself, waving her off. “We’re taking you to Cook-Off.”

“The… what?” Cattie asked. “Is this like a reality show taping or something? Because it sounds like a reality show.”

“It’s not a show, babe,” Cass laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s Cook-Off like doing a reduction when you burn off the wine to just get the flavour.”

“Ooooh,” Cattie said. “Right. I guess that makes sense. So what’s this place known for? It’s… sauces?”

That made me groan and roll my eyes. “It’s a steakhouse attached to the Sahara,” I said. “It doesn’t have a super celebrity chef behind it like Flay or Ramsey, but it’s really good and one of those hidden gem sort of places.”

“And Robbie gets free food there,” Cassidy teased me. Then turned back to Cattie. “Not that he’s being cheap or anything.”

“Babe, please,” Cattie smirked. “Got a gift card? Use the gift card. Get free food instead of not free food? Bring on the free food.”

“Well, I don’t know if they’ll comp me tonight or not, but either way, it’s a great place,” I said. “...Though… free does taste better.”

Cassidy let out a long snort as she rolled her eyes at me.