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“I completely understand that experience. Some people say opposites attract. They might attract, but they don’t necessarily last. You have to find someone who at least understands the business, even if they aren’t in it.” Beau’s phone pinged. “Oh wait. I think they’re ready for us. Let’s head up to the roof.”
Beau noticed Alessandra suddenly realize what their transportation was. There was only one reason why their transportation was picking them up from the roof. “We’re taking a helicopter? Where are we going? The Grand Canyon?”
“Close. We’re going to Lake Las Vegas. One of my friends has a house there, right next to Celine Dion’s. Have you heard of Derek Hampton?”
“The former football player? Quarterback? Of course, I’ve heard of him. Been trying to get him as a customer ever since we opened. He’s a big blackjack player.”
“That’s him. We’ve known each other since he started making enough big money to gamble some of it away—responsibly, of course.” Beau laughed, then turned serious. “He hasn’t really been to Las Vegas that much since his wife died. He’s been raising his teenagers up in Washington State, away from a lot of attention. I’m hoping once the last one is in college, he’ll come down again. I’ll introduce you.”
“Will he be at the house?”
“No. I knew he wasn’t there so I asked if we could use it—and his helipad. He said no problem, and the caretakers have gotten it ready for us. He also recommended a private chef, so she’ll be creating a fabulous, five-course meal we can enjoy. Sound good?”
“Beau, thank you so much.” Alessandra beamed at him. “It will be fun to get away from the Strip. I haven’t had time to get out to Lake Las Vegas in forever. And I’m looking forward to seeing his house.”
As they stood to leave, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a strong hug. She probably meant it as a friendly gesture, but Beau felt the stirring in his pants as she pressed against him.
The helicopter landed on top of the two-story mansion on Lake Las Vegas. The beach faced the west side of the lake, where the resorts were located. The hotels were far enough away not to disturb the wealthy who lived on the east. Robert, the mansion’s caretaker, greeted Beau and Alessandra and escorted them to the living area.
Robert motioned toward the back of the room. “The dining room where your dinner will be served is through that door. Mia Marabella will be your chef tonight. If you don’t know her, she’s the executive chef at Beaucoup at Las Prisienne on the Strip. The Beaucoup dining room is being renovated, so you were lucky to get her. Mia’s sous chef, and your server tonight, is Nora. I’ll be leaving now. Once dinner is over, Mia and Nora will also leave, and you’ll have the house to yourselves. I’ll be back in the morning around ten to get you onto the return helicopter.”
Alessandra extended her hand. “Thank you for the help, Robert. And please be sure to let Derek know how much we appreciate his hospitality.”
Robert left the room as a woman entered, holding a tray with a Grey Goose martini and scotch. “Right on time,” Beau said. “You must be Nora.”
Nora smiled professionally. She pointed to a black circle on the side of the coffee table. “I am, and this button here will let me know if you need anything else before dinner. It’ll be ready in about thirty minutes, does that work you?”
Beau nodded, and Nora left. He was pleased with Alessandra’s reaction to his planning. It had taken more than a few phone calls to line everything up, but now he saw it was well worth the effort.
Alessandra sat on the couch, her eyes twinkling in the low light. “This is over-the-top. Really, Beau.”
“Too much?”
“Yes, it’s too much, but it’s the type of too much that is absolutely amazing. Thank you for this.”
Beau joined her on the couch, his thigh barely touching hers. “I wanted to do this for you, get you away from work for an evening. I know you’ve been working hard this past month.”
“And tomorrow will be even busier with the New Year’s Eve party,” Alessandra added.
“What do you think? Did you hit your revenue target?”
Alessandra’s face darkened. Beau knew the revenue target was important, but she seemed more fixated on it than he had originally thought. “I really hope so. Sailor and I are optimistic, but we’ll know for sure on January first. Your help in getting those added gamblers did a lot for that.”
“I was happy to bring them to The Benson. Better to spend their money with you than at Magnum, as far as I’m concerned.”
“What happened with Magnum, anyway? You said the rumors weren’t true. Why do you think they’re out there?”
The fact he had to explain himself made Beau angry, but he was happy Alessandra had asked for the real story. “I used to play there a lot in Atlantic City. The name of my executive host was Vanessa Navim. I would guess Sailor was acquainted with her. The president at the time was attracted to her and had no problem saying it. It got to the point where it was just blatant sexual harassment, and she had been putting up with it for a while. Once he became more aggressive, she had to get really clear. She told him she wasn’t interested in dating a married man, to stop talking to her about his attraction, to quit asking her out.”
“I assume it didn’t stop?”
“Actually, it did stop. But he obviously wasn’t happy about it. He took all her high-rollers and gave them different executive hosts. He told them Vanessa was ‘cutting back’ on her workload. I knew it was bullshit, and since she worked on a bonus structure, it directly affected her paycheck. I had a friend on the New Jersey State Gaming commission, and I made a report. It was supposed to be anonymous, but I doubt my name was kept out of it. They investigated, but nothing could be substantiated. This was before the ‘Me, too’ movement, and I doubt they did everything they could have done to find out the truth. I’d heard rumors of the president harassing others, too. Anyway, I was pissed. One night I walked into the bar I knew he hung out at. He was drunk, and I picked a fight and punched him. I don’t think at the time he even realized why I was pissed. Later, after Vanessa moved to another casino, and I never went back to Magnum, I assume he figured it out, because that’s when people started telling me about the rumors they were spreading.”
“And then they banned you from all Magnum properties?”
“Not at all,” Beau replied. “That’s just what they implied. In theory, I could go back anytime I want to. But that president is still there, and I refuse to give them my business. The Magnum corporation knows about the complaint; they know his history. Yet, they chose not to fire him. I won’t be going back.”
“Can’t you do anything about it? Isn’t it defamation or something to say they banned you when they really didn’t?”
