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“The suppliers, right?”
“Turns out they needed to see the boss. As you know, I’m not the boss. Right this way.”
He’s all businesslike, behaving as though we haven’t shared bodily fluids. Opening the door for me, he allows me to step inside before leading me to a service elevator. The casino isn’t open right now, so there aren’t any patrons there. It’s empty, making the room seem cold.
“I suppose I should congratulate you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I have one month to turn a profit.”
Salvatore chuckles, shaking his head. “He’s trying to set you up for failure when he knows it’s a great business venture. If you fail, he gets to keep pursuing it while you’re out the ten percent you demanded.”
“Figured as much. But I don’t intend to fail.”
“Turning a profit won’t be so easy. Most restaurants fail their first year.”
I know he’s right. I’ve had the same exact doubts myself. But I refuse to fail. I’ve already drafted my budget, which I’ll have to tweak. My revenue predictions are on point.
“Great pep talk,” I reply dryly.
Salvatore grabs my arm. “I’m not here to give you a fucking pep talk. I don’t want to see you chewed up and spit out the way my father has done so many people.”
His sincerity makes me smile. Not so business-like anymore.
“I don’t want that to happen either,” I say. “By the way, thanks for helping me with the credit.”
“Not a problem.”
“Okay, the way I see it, the hotel already has everything we need for a restaurant. I don’t want to add the expense of a kitchen down here. We would need another entrance besides the guest elevator.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. There’s a service elevator we can use.”
“I spoke with a few of the chefs we jotted down. In order for them to leave their current positions, we’d have to offer a substantial salary. It got me thinking. Why hire outside chefs when we have in-house chefs already? We could rotate the chefs who currently work at the hotel restaurant. Offer them a raise. Cut down costs.”
“Looks like you didn’t need that brainstorming session after all.”
“Definitely needed it,” I smirk.
“What about servers?”
“Hear me out. A friend of mine has a connection with the Femme Mystique escort service. Some of the girls are ready for something new.”
“You want to hire whores?”
I laugh. “No, I want to hire former escorts. They have a lot of experience handling rich men. If they make transactions on the side, that’s their business.”
“Good point. Do you need any renovations done down here?”
“Maybe a servers’ area where they can lounge while on break?” I suggest.
I survey the room, curious to see if there’s an area that would work. Spotting a door in the corner, I head over to it.
“What’s this room?”
Salvatore tries to stop me, but I’m already opening the door. The blood stains on the floor are the first thing I see. A chair is in the middle of the room, bolted to the floor, straps on the arms. A table is nearby. No telling what’s in the case.
“Whatisthis?”
Salvatore shrugs. “Sometimes people don’t pay. Don’t worry. We won’t convert this into your lounge. We can use one of the VIP rooms for that.”
