The House Always Wins - 4. Chapter 4

He took a hold of my elbow again, tightly as a vise. I tried to yank it free, but I might as well have saved me the trouble; he didn't let go, even tightening his grip a little more.

"Jesus, who are you; Hulk Hogan?" I groaned softly and he released his grip a bit.

The strides he took had me almost jogging beside him, and I was a little out of breath by the time we arrived in what was clearly his office. We had to take a private elevator up to get there, and when the doors opened; it revealed a room that seemed fitting for him: glass, steel and lots of windows. On one side, Vegas life streamed by; on the other, I could look down straight into the security room through tinted glass. Wall-to-wall screens could be seen in that area, and a staircase lead down from the office into the room, but I couldn't hear any sounds.

"Sit down," he snapped, grabbing the phone and dialed, waiting for someone to pick up. "Send Carly up here, will you?"

He sat down and planted his elbows on his desk, fixing those icy blue eyes on mine. I grew pretty uncomfortable after about a minute of this and looked away.

"Why am I here? If you're gonna call the police, call them," I said, softly.

"What was the plan; take him for all he had on him? Hmm? Go up to his room, let him do his thing with you and then wait until he slept? Did you really think you could come in here and steal from our guests?"

"What! No, I..."

"Oh, please save it. I know how you boys operate. Who's your pimp? Eddie?"

Just then, footsteps quickly came up the stairs and I looked behind me, relieved to see Carly Johnson appearing from below.

"JJ? What's going on... why aren't you..." she spoke, before being interrupted sharply.

"You know this piece of work?" the man asked, frowning.

"Carly," I sighed, "thank god. Could you please tell this...dickhead who I am, and that I'm not a hustler?"

She winced and covered her eyes with her hand, groaning. Then she wiggled her finger between me and the man behind the desk.

"Michael...meet JJ; JJ meet Michael Black, the owner of the Europa Hotel/Casino. He's my boss, JJ, so I think you might wanna tone it down a little."

Oops.

"Sorry," I whispered in Mr. Black's direction, groaning inwardly. Great move, JJ.

"Carly, you seem to know this foulmouthed creature. Care to explain?"

"Remember that guy I told you about, that got hit in the head at our entrance a few days ago?"

Mr. Black thought for a moment, and then nodded once.

"That was JJ."

"I see," he replied, slowly. "So we help you, arrange medical care for you, and this is how you pay us back?"

"Michael... what did he do?"

"We caught him in the bar, hustling. He was about to go upstairs with one of the guests from the conference."

"What! No... JJ? Please tell me that's not what happened?"

I slipped deeper into my seat, blushing.

"Oh my god. Why?"

It went completely silent, with both of them staring me down until I cracked and started to ramble out what had happened.

"Okay, I was on my way out; I saw the entrance to the casino, thought ‘what the hell' and tried a few slots. Before I knew it, all my money was gone. So I went to the bar, to buy a drink with the last of my money, and then go. But this guy came on to me, not the other way around, I swear. He offered me a thousand and...I was broke. What was I supposed to do?"

Carly sighed deeply and rubbed her forehead.

"And you're certain he came on to you?" Mr. Black frowned, tilting his head.

It seemed like he didn't want to believe me, but I nodded.

"I swear. I didn't want to make any trouble but..."

I stopped talking when he held up his finger and grabbed the phone again.

"Send me the footage of cameras two and three from the lounge. Give me the last half hour."

He took a remote from his desk and switched on a screen; about half a minute later, I saw myself sitting at the bar, at the left side of the split screen; on the right, Mr. Pastel could be seen sitting with his colleagues.

The scene played itself out; I came in, dropping my backpack to the floor and taking a seat at the bar; me looking around, Mr. Pastel walking past me, slowing down; him coming back and sending me a drink and then all three of us saw Mr. Pastel rubbing himself, after he had sent me that drink. Mr. Black switched the screen off at that point, tapping his teeth with the remote.

"Hmmm... It appears you're telling the truth. Still, that doesn't excuse you from the intent. You did accept his money, and you were about to go up. We have a strict policy here of no prostitution, male or female."

I blushed and bit my lower lip.

"I'm not a prostitute..." I said softly.

"So you say. It doesn't prove that you haven't done anything like this before, at another hotel or ano..."

"Michael," Carly interrupted, "he's nineteen, and was just kicked out of his home because he was caught fooling around with a guy. I believe him. He saw a chance to get some money and yes, it was stupid but..."

"I never even slept with a guy before..." I confessed, interrupting her in turn, speaking barely above a whisper. "But how do I prove that, huh? I can't...go back. I have no money, nowhere to go..."

She put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed softly when I started to sniffle. God, I hate crying but I just...you know?

"Shhh, it'll be okay. Michael, can't we help him? He needs a place to stay and some money. Do you wanna throw him out on his ear for making a mistake? All he needs is a chance..."

I avoided looking at Mr. Black, and wiped my eyes.

"Alright," he answered after a minute of silence. "Carly, leave us alone for a while. I'd like to talk to JJ in private. I might be able to help."

She thanked him and squeezed my shoulder one more time. I looked up and sent her a silent thank you of my own.

"Oh, and Carly? Find out who this guest is, and throw him out. I don't want to see his face here, ever again."

She promised to take care of it and left, leaving me alone again with him.