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He had lost count of the number of times he had heard the words ‘second chance’ being offered to him. With his track record, it was more along the lines of this being his three hundredth second chance.
Can we just get this over and done with. Let me take my punishment.
“We’ve decided to send you to Las Vegas for the next six months.”
Oh no. Not Vegas. I’m being exiled to the desert. To the land of tourists and tacky themed hotels. My career is as good as dead.
Las Vegas was the last place Jordan wanted to go and spend his days. Vegas was fun for a wild weekend, but the prospect of actually living in the city filled him with a sense of…meh. There was a reason that what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, people could easily forget what might have happened over a drunken two or three day period.
How am I going to hide those missing six months?
In the bad old days he would have said he’d gone into rehab, but everyone in New York knew he had been clean and sober for over five years. He could pretend he had gone hiking in the Himalayas, but people would eventually find out. Even Nepal had reliable internet. There was nothing else to do but suck it up.
Six. Fucking. Months.
“How is the upgrade going?” asked Jordan, suddenly recalling that the main Las Vegas resort had been undergoing a major refurbishment program over the past year. Once the work was complete it was going to join the Laguna Beach property as part of the new Platinum Collection.
“The finishing touches will be done by the end of this month. That’s why we want you to go. The resort management team is solid. They’ve done everything they could with what they had in the past, but now we need people flowing through our doors. Money coming in. And that is where you have a part to play my lad.”
Edward rose from the couch and headed to Bryce’s desk. He returned carrying a thick folder, full of papers which he sat on the coffee table in front of Jordan. “Did you know that Elton John and Britney Spears made millions upon millions from their residences in Las Vegas?”
Jordan nodded. He had connections in the entertainment industry, and the sort of money an established artist with a solid fan base could make from featuring at a resort were well known. Vegas was no longer the place where old careers went to die, stars were falling over themselves to perform at the big casinos and resorts.
“The reason why those musical acts could ask and receive huge fees was that the resorts themselves made five times that money from having guests stay, play, and shop at their properties. People will spend freely while they are in town to see their favorite star. For the relaunch of the Las Vegas resort we need a major headline act. One which will fill the theatre every night they perform.”
Jordan glanced at his father and scowled; Edward was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Excitement crackled in the air. “Earlier this week I flew out to Los Angeles to meet with the new management team for a top artist. They called last night, and their client is going to sign a contract to do a six month residency with us.”
Edward clapped his hands. Any moment now Jordan feared he was going to break into a happy dance.
Jeez Dad, what was in your tea this morning?
“So you want me to help manage the resort while this star is in the house?” It made sense. Having a major artist at the resort would bring millions of dollars flowing into the Royal Resorts coffers. Whatever he could do to support the venture would surely go a long way to getting back in good with the senior executives and the board. There had to be a way for him to make it out of Vegas.
“No. I don’t want you to be involved in running the resort. To be honest I would say you have managed your last Royal Resorts property. Bryce and I agree that your talents lie elsewhere.”
Honest. Brutal. But I can’t blame them. My failures are my own.
“So what role do you wish me to play exactly?”
He didn’t want to end up working the front desk or glad-handing the high rollers. His ego could only bend so far.
“I want you to handle the talent. Do everything for them. Anticipate whatever they might need, and above all—keep them happy. This is your golden opportunity to show the board and Bryce that California was a slip up. Do an outstanding job with this assignment, Jordan, and they will soon forget what happened at Laguna Beach. There are other places for you to shine within the House of Royal.”
His father’s words were clear. He wasn’t going to be trusted with a resort ever again, but the company felt he was the perfect man to work his charm on a mega star and make sure the money flowed.
Vegas. Ok. I can do six months. I just have to manage the demands of an artist. How hard can that be? Peel a grape or two. Sort skittles into separate bowls and remove the yellow ones.
“So who have you signed?”
“About to sign. Their management has agreed to the terms of the contract, but I thought it would be nice for you to go out to Los Angeles and be the one to get our star’s signature. Start the relationship with the personal touch.”
Edward bent and flipped open the folder, talking out a piece of paper. He handed it to Jordan. “Here is the address. It’s in Bel-Air, Los Angeles.”
Jordan’s heart stopped beating. He knew that address. And who lived there. Just when he thought his life couldn’t get any more complicated, fate had decided to throw him a monstrous curveball.
“Her name is Chloe.” Edward waved his hand about absentmindedly. “Apparently, she doesn’t use her surname. Vivian says she is a huge fan of this pop star, but you know me, if they weren’t producing music in the first few years of the twenty first century, I haven’t a clue.”
His father kept talking, but Jordan’s gaze remained locked on the piece of paper. He was torn between wishing the address would suddenly change, and the dark, bitter regret he had felt in the long months since he had last walked out of that particular house.
