The high roller turns the second Caterina enters and starts talking before she’s taken three full steps inside.
“There you are,” he snaps. “I’ve been treated like a goddamn inconvenience in my own house.”
Caterina stops at a distance that gives him nothing and says, calm as still water, “Then let’s fix the issue.”
No apology. No rush to soothe.
Not even to snap back that it’s not his own house, buthers.
Just immediate authority.
“An issue?” he repeats. “That’s a hell of a word for humiliating one of your best players.”
Caterina doesn’t flinch.
I stay to her right and a little back, close enough to move if I need to, far enough not to turn this into a show of force. My eyes move over the room once and keep moving. One door. One guest. One assistant. One narrow strip of mirrored wall. One bar cart. Two low armchairs. One table. No one else.
Halloran’s eyes zero in on me immediately anyway.
“And who the hell is this?” he bolsters.
“Not part of the problem,” Caterina says smoothly before I can answer.
That doesn’t improve his mood, but it does keep his focus where it belongs.
He launches into the story. Marker delay. Embarrassment. Poor handling. Outrage. Threats to take his business elsewhere. The usual script from entitled but emotionally immature men like him.
Caterina lets him talk.
Smart.
Not because he deserves the floor. Because people like him need to hear themselves empty out before they’ll listen to a solution.
In the meantime, I watch everything. His hands, his assistant, the door, and everything else in the room, as well as keeping an ear out for the casino floor outside the door. Nothing unusual. Nothing immediate.
When Halloran finally runs down enough to breathe, Caterina says, “Let me understand the exact issue.”
The shift is subtle, but it’s there. She moves him from emotion to specifics without ever sounding like she’s ordering him to calm down. That’s a skill.
He tells her. Marker amount. Delay in approval. A floor employee who apparently said the wrong thing in a tone he didn’t like.
Caterina speaks calmly and precisely, making the man’s continued anger look foolish in comparison. Her voice is level, her posture easy, no apology because none is needed.
By the end, the issue is laid out completely in reasonable tones, and Halloran has no choice but to calm down.
Caterina calls for the floor manager, who comes immediately. wallpaper.
“Who is holding the approval?” she asks.
“Finance review, ma’am. It should’ve cleared fifteen minutes ago.”
She nods once. “Call them now.”
The manager is already reaching for his phone.
Halloran throws up one hand, anger renewed with a new person as an audience. “I should not have to sit in a back room like I’m being punished because your people can’t do basic math.”
Caterina turns her head to him again. “You’re in a private room because you asked for executive attention, and I’m giving it to you.”
