Big Bad Billionaires [Volume 2] Read online

Page 8


  There was one obvious exception, of course. The Golden Nugget casino. I was in charge of the Golden Nugget, until further notice, and if I so decided, Jenny would be free to gamble at its Blackjack tables. This would, of course, open me up to the most vicious kind of attacks from the other shareholders and it might even be possible for them to have me removed legally as the controlling shareholder of the Golden Nugget on the basis that I’d not discharged my ‘duty of care’ towards the other shareholders, as Peter Parkin had so eloquently put it.

  There was, of course, the leverage I held over Peter; knowing that he’d signed off on fraudulent tax returns and I might just be able to use this against him to shut him up. But even if I got Peter to shut up whilst allowing Jenny to play Blackjack at the Golden Nugget it would still hurt the casino’s business in the long run, as Jenny was sure to punish the Blackjack dealers and the financial coffers of the Golden Nugget severely if she was ever given free reins to gamble there.

  It appeared to me that the time had come for me to make a final decision about my efforts to please Vivienne by getting the Golden Nugget to outperform its previous financial benchmarks. It was readily apparent to me that I would have to let go of that idea, once and for all, if I hoped to have any kind of chance with Jenny.

  The choice was simple; I had to choose between pleasing Vivienne and being with Jenny. Even more importantly, I had to choose between the entire family fortune and Jenny Blake, as I was almost certain to fail in my bid of convincing Vivienne that I would be a worthy heir of the Du Bois millions if I made a mess of the management of the Golden Nugget.

  While I was still mulling all of this over in my mind a third possibility suddenly suggested itself to me. What if I could allow Jenny to gamble at the Golden Nugget and I could also make a lot of money for myself and Vivienne at the same time? It sounded preposterous to even think that such a thing might be possible, but I’d been raised in this business by the most preposterous thinker of them all; Vivienne Du Bois!

  “That’s the way to go,” I muttered to myself, “a situation where all of us win at the same time.”

  The challenge was that I had no idea yet of how this could all possibly be done. But that’s when I thought again of Vivienne’s advice about the best approach to follow in circumstances like these; run at speed and wait for everything to fall in place as I move on the deal.

  “That’s what we will do, my little gambling angel. We will run at speed and smash through everything in our way,” I whispered to myself and got up from the couch and put on my jacket. I wanted to speak to the general manager of the Golden Nugget again and was hoping that our meeting might give me some concrete ideas and help me to formulate a final plan.

  JENNY

  I found myself facing one of those impossible choices which wasn’t really a choice at all. If I stayed on in Vegas my mother was probably never going to have her operation and would most likely not live much longer.

  If I had any real option at all I would have just hung around with Francois on the Vegas Strip and enjoyed being in love with him. Yes, I’d finally and irrevocably admitted it to myself; I was head over heels in love with him despite my intermittent attempts to deny it. But all of this was now utterly meaningless. I would have to leave Las Vegas and I got the feeling that Francois was not the kind of man to follow after me.

  I’d spoken to my mother again and she sounded about the same as the previous time we’d communicated. She was in a lot of pain but promised me that she would hang in there a little longer. There was simply no way that I was going to let her down and I was already sitting in front of my laptop searching for the best place to relocate to in order to find new and unsuspecting casinos where I could win the last $100,000 I needed for my mother’s operation.

  The search on the internet was really just a way to get my mind off of things, as I already had a very good idea where I was headed. I couldn’t go back to Monte Carlo as I was already persona non grata there and most of the other main gambling institutions across the world also had my number.

  I thought again of the close call I’d had in Monte Carlo after a private detective had warned all of the casinos there that I was a card counter. At the time I was gambling merely as a way of getting back at the gambling institutions for ruining my youth as my mother was not sick yet, but I already had a very strong drive and motivation to win as much money as possible.

  I was sitting at a Blackjack table and was up by about $55,000 in winnings when the Pit Boss walked up to me and started watching me with hawk eyes; speaking into his two-way radio at the same time. I knew that my winnings were now in serious jeopardy as I’d heard of occasions where card counters had been asked to leave a casino without being allowed to take their winnings with them. They were just asked to leave the casino without any explanation offered for their removal although the gamblers knew, of course, that the casino had caught up to the fact that they were not any ordinary losers sitting there to feed all of their life savings to the dealer.

  I thought that it would be the equivalent of being raped and mugged all at once if I had to be stripped of my winnings and there was just no way I was going to allow the Pit Boss to chase me out of the casino without, at the very least, taking all of my money with me. I ended up doing the only thing that seemed like a plausible solution at the time, which was to get up after I’d raked in all of my chips and stuffed it into my Fendi handbag. This was not really all that smart, as the Pit Boss immediately started following after me as I made my way to the cashier to cash out my winnings. I could already imagine how it was going to look if he put his hand on my shoulder and embarrassed me by calling me out in front of everyone in the casino.

  That’s when I did the craziest thing I’d ever done in my life. I took a hand full of chips from my handbag and went to stand right in front of the Pit Boss. He looked at me threateningly and I stared right back at him. This was almost like one of those Western movies where two gunslingers were facing off just before drawing their guns to fire at each other. I decided that I was going to be the one to fire first and shouted out loudly before throwing a handful of gambling chips high into the air. It had exactly the result I’d hoped it would have.

  All of the gamblers in my vicinity started shouting and crawling around; shoving one another out of the way to get a hold of some of the gambling chips I’d let rain down all around them like gifts from the gambling gods. Fuck them all, I thought. I would rather let the other gamblers have my winnings than giving it back to the greedy casino bosses.

  I was just about to take another handful of chips out of my handbag when I realized that there was now fully fledged mayhem all around me and the Pit Boss was seriously panicking as he tried, in vain, to restore some order. I calmly walked over to the cashier and cashed out the rest of my chips. It turns out I still had $52,000 worth of chips, as it had only cost me a small investment of $3,000 worth of gambling chips to cast out on the casino floor to create enough of a distraction to get away with the rest.

  Once I was outside the casino I ran as fast as I could to my hotel room and flew out of Monte Carlo the very next morning, never to return there again. I’d heard through the grapevine that they were still looking for me in Monte Carlo and that I’d become something of a local legend with my antics of covering the casino floor with gambling chips; creating a kind of mayhem never seen before or since.

  “Yes, I will definitely not be gambling again soon in Monte Carlo,” I whispered to myself with a smile.

  San Juan, Puerto Rico was just about the only place left that I hadn’t been before and I now started vaguely planning ahead and scheduling a gambling trip to Puerto Rico in my mind.

  I had no idea what I was going to do about Francois. Just what could I do, to be honest? Ask him to come to Puerto Rico with me? Perhaps that was the only real option and I decided that, when the moment was right, I would pitch the trip to my gorgeous French playboy if I had no other option.

  He didn’t strike me as the
kind of man who had anything specific tying him down to one place and he seemed like the kind of guy who might just enjoy such a trip. And if he said no; well I would just cry my eyes out for 6 months and hope it doesn’t destroy all of my faith in love and happiness…and hope to run into him again sometime…give my mind some kind of escape mechanism to help me deny the fact that if I left Francois in Vegas it would be over forever between us.

  Having worked it all out in my mind as best I could, I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes. It was easy to imagine that I was back on Francois’s couch, listening to him playing his guitar. There had been so many unforgettable moments between us in the short time that Francois and I had been together that it would be difficult to choose the most unforgettable one, but if I really had to choose a moment then I would say it was listening to him singing in French after we’d made love in his room at the Golden Nugget.

  There was just something about that specific moment which totally floored me every time I thought about it. It was as if Francois was truly showing me the most intimate and beautiful parts of his soul and I felt like I was seeing a side of him that no-one else had ever seen. I realized, of course, that I was being naïve in thinking this way, as he’d probably used his guitar playing skills and French love songs on countless female victims before me, but still, I wanted to believe that the moment had been just as special to him as it had been to me.

  Now that love had found me in the most unlikely of all places, Las Vegas, I wondered if it was all destined to be no more than a flash in the pan; an interlude carefully choreographed by the God…never meant to last for longer than a couple of mesmerizing days and nights.

  “How can life be so cruel?” I sighed and felt a tear of despair running down my cheek. It was not as if I was looking for the absolute bliss that Francois had so suddenly unleashed in my life with his dark looks and skilled fingers. I was simply out there trying to find a way to save my mother and now I’d gone and lost my heart.

  I decided to put off any further troubling thoughts about the future and to focus on more immediate events. Francois had asked me to join him for dinner at the cozy little restaurant where we’d gone the first night after we met at the Golden Nugget.

  I was both looking forward to the evening and dreading it at the same time. Looking forward to it because every single moment I spent with Francois was happier than anything else I’d ever known and dreading it because it might well turn out to be the last time I ever saw him.

  FRANCOIS

  My meeting with the general manager of the Golden Nugget was most informative and I came away from it with a concrete idea that might just be the solution to all of my challenges. It would be a true gamble, but if my plan worked out, not only would Jenny be able to have a free go at the Blackjack tables of the Golden Nugget, but it would also make me a mountain of money in the process and just perhaps prove to Vivienne that I was even more creative in business than she’d ever dreamed I could be.

  I dialed Peter Parkin’s number and waited for him to answer.

  Good day, Peter Parkin speaking,” he said in his normal arrogant tone of voice when he finally answered.

  “Hi Peter, I have a proposition for you and I think you are going to like it,” I said.

  “Go ahead, I’m listening,” Peter replied.

  “I have obtained some legal advice concerning the back taxes owed by the Golden Nugget and I have been advised that I may incriminate myself if I fail to hand over the Golden Nugget’s financial statements for a voluntary tax audit, especially now that I am aware of the fact that we have not been paying all of the tax due to the government,” I lied.

  “Francois before you do anything…” Peter stuttered but I cut him short.

  “Before you say anything else, Peter, there is a way to prevent all of this,” I said, “if you are prepared to buy my 60% shareholding at the price I want for it, you will become the controlling shareholder of the Golden Nugget and the decision on whether or not to submit the financials for a voluntary tax audit will be entirely up to you.”

  “Well my offer to purchase all of your shares for $200 million is still on the table so perhaps we can just move on that immediately as soon as you sign the papers I’ve already sent you?” Peter said, hopefully.

  “In your dreams, Peter Parkin,” I answered, “I want $500 million for my shares.”

  “What? Have you lost your fucking mind?!” Peter shouted.

  “Not at all Peter, but you might just lose your mind after you get fucked up the ass a couple of times by some 400-pound gorilla in San Quentin State Prison so I would advise you to consider my offer very carefully. You have until 4 pm today to accept it before I put the IRS on your ass.”

  I put down the phone and breathed in deeply. It was an incredible bluff and my heart was racing at a thousand beats a minute. If Peter decided to fight me he could claim that I was blackmailing him and it would be 100% true. Who knows, he might even have recorded our phone conversation and it could be used as evidence against me later! On top of all this, I had no idea whether Peter would be able to get together the $500 million I wanted so all of my efforts might have been in vain.

  While I was still sitting there wondering if I’d totally lost my mind by making the crazy offer to Peter my phone rang.

  “Peter Parkin here. I will accept your offer and the $500 million will be wire-transferred to your account by midnight tonight. As soon as the payment is complete I want you out of the Golden Nugget and I don’t want to ever see you or hear from you again. I will send my people over to close the doors of the Golden Nugget strictly at midnight tonight to facilitate a total take over so make sure you are gone by then!”

  “Agreed,” I said and ended the call.

  “Wooohoooo!” I shouted at the top of my lungs and jumped up and down on the king size bed in my penthouse suite on the 17th floor. Then I dialed Jenny’s number and she answered on the second ring.

  “How are you my most delicious gambling angel?” I asked exuberantly.

  “I’m as delicious as ever but I’m not gambling anymore,” Jenny replied.

  “That’s all about to change,” I said, “I would like to move our dinner plans for tonight forward to 5 pm!”

  “Isn’t that a bit early for dinner?”

  “Sure it is, but we’re going to need the rest of the night for other things.

  “I like the way you think my naughty French lover,” Jenny replied and I could almost hear the lust in her voice.

  “Great minds think alike,” I laughed, “but I wasn’t thinking of sex; I have something far better in mind!”

  “What on earth could be better than sex the way we do it?” Jenny asked and I could just picture the naughty smile on her face.

  “Meet me at the restaurant at 5 pm and all shall be revealed,” I answered.

  Jenny agreed to meet me earlier and I put down the phone, feeling very satisfied and more than just a little excited. I’d just sold my shares for more than four times their value and Jenny and I was about to pull another fast one on Peter Parkin on top of that.

  I was going to let Jenny Blake have a free run at the Blackjack tables of the Golden Nugget right up to the stroke of midnight when my tenure as controlling shareholder would officially be coming to an end. She would have one last opportunity to win all of the money she needed for her mother’s operation and Peter Parkin could go fuck himself if he found out about it afterward. I still had the Golden Nugget’s tax information to shut him up with and, on top of everything else, card counting was not illegal so he could do absolutely nothing about it.

  I decided to instruct the general manager to give the Pit Boss the night off so Jenny would not have to face the added pressure of some gorilla looking over her shoulder while she gambled. I dialed George Sanders’ number and waited for him to answer.

  “Hi George, I just want to thank you once again for the very informative meeting we had earlier today.”

  “I’m glad if it has been of so
me assistance,” George answered.

  “It definitely has. I want you to give the Pit Boss the evening off as I have another person in mind for the job and I need to give him an opportunity to prove himself tonight.

  “Sure thing,” George answered, “do you want me to speak to the new replacement before he starts tonight?”

  “That won’t be necessary, I will have a talk with him myself,” I said. “Come to think of it, you can also take the night off,” I added and ended the call.

  I left my penthouse suite and made my way downstairs. I wanted to have drink at the bar before making my way over to the restaurant to meet Jenny. As for the replacement I had in mind for the Pit Boss that evening? He simply did not exist.