Authors: J. Fields Jr.
Max slipped the paper into his pocket.
“I will, thanks.
She’ll love it.”
Antonio rejoined them.
“I must apologize, but there is a matter that requires my attention.”
He turned to
Shannon
.
“I’ll return to arrange everything for your dinner, Miss Moon.
I phoned to have the Roederrer Cristal you left upstairs iced and brought down to you with a clean glass and fresh strawberries.”
She stood up.
“You guys are the best.”
Antonio bowed.
“Thank you for seeing us.
Max, shall we?”
Shannon
asked, “Max has to go too?”
Antonio and Max stared at one another.
Antonio cleared his throat.
“Well, he does have a tournament to attend.”
Max agreed weakly.
“That’s true.”
Shannon
killed her cigarette in the ashtray.
“I only need him for five minutes.”
She stood up and walked over to the end table where Antonio had placed the white Stetson and her flute of champagne.
“I’ll hold this hostage.”
She plopped the hat onto her head.
It sank down over her eyes and bumped against her nose.
She saluted them with the champagne.
“New sheriff in town.”
Her smile was dazzling.
Max gulped audibly.
Antonio sent him a question with his eyes.
Max goggled back.
Antonio arched an eyebrow in rephrase.
Max blinked several times.
Antonio gave up.
The BlackBerry buzzed on Antonio’s hip.
Shannon
had the big hat cocked back onto her head.
“Five minutes.
I promise.”
She came up beside Max and slipped her arm through his.
“You said you would give me a butler, Antonio.
I just need some cigarettes.
Oh!
And I have another request.”
Antonio, who had been reading the message on his BlackBerry’s screen, suddenly looked up.
“Pardon me?”
Shannon
patted Max’s arm.
“You said you’d introduce me to a butler tonight and now here you are trying to take him away.”
Max gaped at Antonio.
“What?”
Antonio’s heart quickened.
The sequence of coincidental circumstances played out in his head, and he found himself at that moment the end result of unpredicted chance.
“Miss Moon…”
Max tried to extricate his arm from the young actress.
“Sorry but…”
“Oops.”
The crystal flute fumbled from her hand.
A fan of champagne rained down the front of Max’s trousers as the flute shattered across the parquet floor.
“Oh my.”
Antonio slipped off his jacket and spread it quickly over the crystal shards.
“Miss Moon, you’re barefoot.”
“Your pants…”
She handed Max the towel.
“Thanks, its okay,” said Max, taking the towel and wiping off the front of his pant legs.
“It was refreshing, really.”
“Max, turn around,” said Antonio, striding quickly to his side.
Max straightened up.
“Did I get wet back there too?”
He turned in a circle.
Shannon Moon inspected his backside.
“Looks fine to me.”
Max turned back to her.
“Thanks.
Oh.
Wow…hey.”
He stumbled backwards into Antonio.
Flipped around.
“She.
She.”
Antonio ushered him into the adjoining bedroom.
Over his shoulder he said, “We’ll return with a robe, Miss Moon.”
“Okay.”
“And slippers.
Please don’t move from that spot.”
In the bedroom Antonio released Max from his grip.
The poker player collapsed onto the bed.
“She.
She.”
“I know, Max.
Please stay here until I have the situation under control.”
“Naked.”
“It was the only towel she had available to give you.
Do you need a glass of water?”
Max leaned over and looked through the doorway.
“Still naked.”
“Max!”
Antonio lowered his voice.
“Please look at me.”
“Sorry.
Wow.
Did you see that?”
“Do not move until I return for you.”
“I don’t think I can.
I can’t feel my legs.”
“We are in dangerous territory.
You have just seen what every paparazzo in the world has attempted to exploit.”
“It was amazing.”
“You must let me do the talking until we leave the suite.”
“You talk.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
Antonio quickly dialed Mark Ford.
“I won’t make it.
Please send the pictures of the broken furniture to my BlackBerry.”
Antonio took a deep breath, draped the robe over one arm, and with slippers in hand strode back into the sitting area.
“I’m terribly sorry about all this, Miss Moon.”
Shannon
reached for the robe.
“Chilly.”
Antonio fitted it over her shoulders and laid the slippers at her feet.
When she had belted the robe and turned, he had a lit cigarette waiting for her.
“I love you,” she said.
Antonio escorted her by the hand to the leather sectional.
“I’ll have housekeeping come to clean this up immediately.”
“I managed to mess up his pants
and
your suit coat.”
“Not to worry.”
“The press would love putting a spin on this one.
Drunken Shannon Moon strips naked and throws champagne on butler!”
She exhaled smoke.
Antonio adjusted his tie.
“They will never know, Miss Moon.”
“Sorry if I embarrassed Max.”
“He’ll recover.”
“I just wanted to give him the towel.
I wasn’t even thinking.
I’m so used to getting dressed on set – love scenes, you know.
Being naked doesn’t really bother me anymore.”
“No explanation necessary.
These are your accommodations to occupy as you see fit.
You are the guest.”
“And Max is my butler – I don’t want to scare him off.
I like him.”
Antonio suffered internally.
Outwardly he remained stoic.
“He’s a regular guy,” said
Shannon
, staring at the bedroom doorway and exhaling a feather of smoke.
“Not many of those left around.”
She stubbed out her cigarette.
“His other job at the tournament won’t keep him from me too much, will it?”
Antonio cleared his throat.
“I’ll have to look into the matter,” was all he could manage.
Chapter Seven
The butler pantry was not only the cold storage area, stockroom and the location of the Elektra semiautomatic espresso machine coveted by several of the casino’s dining outlets, but it was also the favored spot for social niceties of the butler staff.
They asked one another about their personal lives.
Commented on current events.
Traded bits of gossip.
Sampled new dishes.
Sipped tea.
Antonio’s personal office was for conversations that required more discretion.
The furniture was of the style showcased in their premier suites.
The draperies, wall linen and carpet were of the same quality as the guests enjoyed.
Aside from square footage, there was one main distinction between the office and the guest rooms.
The private office of Antonio Cruz had one of the few remaining doors in the casino that was not accessed by an encoded magnetic key.
Instead, it was fitted with a brass hard key lock.
The original key belonged to Antonio, who had given a copy to only two other individuals: Mark Ford and Sonny Wu.
As Sonny entered the office, Antonio locked the door behind him.
Max sat hunched over on the leather sofa.
Sonny said, “Hi Max.
Are you sick?”
Antonio motioned Sonny to a side chair and took his own seat behind his writing desk.
“We have a problem.”
Sonny looked from Max to Antonio.
“Is there a virus going around?”
“Max is not ill.”
Max groaned.
Antonio relayed the misunderstanding in the Sachem Suite to Sonny. When finished he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs at the knee, and waited.
It took Sonny a full minute to respond.
Then he asked, “Was she completely nude?”
Max shook his head.
“She was wearing my cowboy hat.”
Sonny pondered once more, all the while staring off into the distance.
Antonio intervened.
“Do you have any suggestions, Sonny?”
Sonny had slumped back dreamily into his chair.
He now sat up and adjusted his lapels and trouser crease.
“Did you see her naked, too?”
Antonio arched an eyebrow.
“Is this relevant to your problem solving process?”
“Yes.”
“Very well.
I saw Miss Moon in the nude on two separate occasions.”
Sonny stood up.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Antonio uncrossed his legs and sat forward.
“I understand that the events are unfortunate, and my adherence to the rules somewhat suspect.
However, what’s done is done.”
“It’s not that.”
Sonny raised a hand.
“We’ve all bent the rules for our guests.”
“So what has you so visibly upset?”