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It could be the doorbell jingle, but I swear I hear Dante bark, “Shut up.” And that’s enough to put a pep in my step all the way back to the hotel.
4
ALESSA
Unfortunately for me, Dante Santoro may, in fact, run this town. And it’s clear everyone around here either loves him to bits or is afraid of him because no matter where I go, as soon as they see my name, the position they had open is no longer available.
Since I’m fairly certain I don’t smell, I can only see one reason this is happening. Whatever his motives may be, it seems like Dante made it his mission to make sure I leave Blackwood with my tail between my legs. Fighting against the man I know nothing about has been tiring. I’ve been to almost every single bar, restaurant and cafe I could find, and even the places advertising for help in their windows did not want to hire me once they glanced at my resume. I swear, if I want to stay in Blackwood, my only option is to change my name. And as big a pain as Dante Santoro is becoming, Idowant to stay in Blackwood.
So I continue. My daily walks to the port are giving me buns of steel and the strength to persevere. But with every new place that turns me away, my heart grows heavier. Even if I don’t get the chance to look for my family, it’ll be hard to leave. Over the past week and a half, I’ve grown used to theoverpriced shops, the steep streets, the amazing views and the smell of the ocean in the air. This town is unique and oddly familiar at the same time. I feel at home here. Like I belong, despite being blacklisted by a certain suited jerk.
For the first time in a very long time, the impulse to keep running, to keep moving, is gone. I wouldn’t mind staying in Blackwood for longer, despitesomeonehere making it their life’s mission to get me to leave and go as far away as possible.
I don’t gethim. I don’t get why he hates me so much when we’ve barely even spoken, and at this point, I’m no longer interested in finding out the reason. He’s made his intentions clear, and now it’s time to show him what I’m made of. Someone needs to knock him down a peg. Or two.
Will I be playing with fire? Undoubtedly. But I’m not afraid of getting burned if it means I’m staying true to myself. I’ll have all the time in the world to find out more about Blackwood and how it is connected to my past once I take care of the thorn in my backside.
It’s time to up the stakes.
Literally.
Armed with a stack of freshly printed resumes—courtesy of Matt from The Tech Shop—I walk through the double doors, my feet landing on a plush red carpet as soon as I cross the threshold. The smell of cigars and whiskey hangs heavy in the air as I look around, realising the stakes may be higher than I’ve gambled for. The Black Royale Casino is not like any other casino I’ve been to. There are no slot machines, no loud tourists in Hawaiian shirts gambling away their pocket money, and no smooth jazz flowing from the speakers.
This place is something else. The inside is lit with soft ambient lighting, casting a golden glow on the blackjack and roulette tables covered in black felt. There are high-end, comfortable-looking chairs around each table. Occupied by men wearing expensive suits, focused on the game they’re playing. As soft, sensual music reaches my ears, my eyes draw up to the gilded golden cages hanging from the ceiling, each holding a dancer in a golden bikini, moving to the rhythm of the song. I take a step inside, looking for a bar, or servers milling around, but my eyes keep going back to the girls dancing in their cages. They are too high for anyone to pay them any notice from down here, and it isn’t until I see the private rooms on the upper level, I understand their purpose. Each room has a glass wall facing the inside of the casino, giving it a perfect view of the dancers in their cages. These must be their high-stakes rooms. Possibly invite only. If I could get a job as a server, or a bartender here, I could probably make a living from tips alone.
With my resolve renewed, I stride through the casino, going straight for the gold bar with every type of liquor displayed on its glass shelves. I sense a theme—clearly, whoever designed this place likes gold.
“Hi,” I smile at a server waiting for drinks by the bar, her tray balancing on her perfectly manicured hand. She’s stunning. The blonde hair and smoky eyeliner bring out the blue in her eyes and highlight her delicate features. She’s wearing a long-sleeved, short black dress paired with golden heels that sparkle each time the light hits them. As far as work attire goes, this one is not bad.
“Hi.” She smiles back at me. “Do you need help?”
“I do, actually.” I bite my lip. “Are you guys hiring?”
She looks me up and down. “You look young. Are you twenty-one? They’re strict on age here.”
“I am,” I reply, trying to appear confident. I probably should have gone harder on the makeup.
“Benji,” she calls out to one of the guys behind the longbar busy pouring alcohol into tumblers. “Can you grab an application form?”
“I’m Mel. What’s your name?”
“Stephanie,” I reply. “But everyone calls me Stevie.”
“Well, Stevie. If you fill out an application form with all your information, someone will be in touch.” She turns back to the bar, placing tumblers filled with golden liquid on her tray. Sauntering off before I’m even able to say thanks.
“I’m Benji, and you are?” I’m met with a curious look as the guy behind the bar wipes his hands on his apron.
“Stephanie Nicks.”
“Have you worked at a casino before, Stephanie?”
“Call me Stevie,” I smile. “And no. Not at a casino, but I’ve worked in high-end bars both as a bartender and a server before.” Technically, not a lie. I stayed in one after closing and let a bartender who was hoping to sleep with me teach me how to make cocktails. I had so much fun that night I stole a cocktail-making book from the library the next day and learned the ingredients for every single cocktail they had listed, hoping it would come in handy one day.
“Stevie Nicks?”
“Parents were big fans.” I shrug. He doesn’t need to know I belt out Rhiannon every morning in the shower.
“Alright, Stevie. We’re big on whiskey here. Can you tell me your three favourite whiskey cocktails to make?”
