Chapter 16
Marcus
The car pulls up in front of one of the casinos I own. I sigh, getting out of the car and entering the front doors. The building appears bigger on the inside than it does on the outside, tables full of people gambling all their money away while getting too drunk to care. I get on the elevator and get off on the fourth floor, searching for the manager on duty.
Gale is in his office on the phone, clearing up an issue that happened in one of the rooms on the third floor. "It will be no cost for your first night. I'll let them know up front not to charge you and they will also have complimentary chips waiting. I apologize again for the mix up."
He hangs up the phone and spins his chair around, staring up at me. "Afternoon, boss. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."
"I was in the neighborhood and thought I would drop in to check on things. You have the reports ready for me?"
He nods, standing up from the chair to grab something from the safe hidden behind a large picture of a sunflower. "We made sure the numbers added up to the profits we documented for the month. It's already deposited into the main account."
I take the folder from his hand and flip through the contents inside. "Everything looks good. This is why you are one of the very few people I trust with my money." Money laundering isn't easy which is why I hired people who were both smart with numbers and disguising the source of illegally earned money.
He sighs in relief, forcing a smile on his face. "I'll have a look at Club Rio's numbers tomorrow and see where else I can shuffle some money around for the month."
"Perfect." We sometimes had our own people rent out the hotel rooms under fake names or play the slots to make it look like we were making more revenue from the casino than we actually were. We had used similar tactics at the clubs and hotels, having people order drinks and the bartender mix the drinks with water, tipping the dancers extra and so on.
I turn around to leave the office and Gale stops me before I can reach the door. "Oh one more thing, boss. There's an older gentleman in a dark pink suit waiting for you downstairs at one of the bridge tables."
I twist my lips. "Did he give you a name?"
"No, but it could be on these white roses he left up here for you."
My heart is pounding, and I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. Gale is holding a vase of a dozen white roses in his hand when I turn around. He pulls the card from the plastic card holder and hands it to me. I rub it between my fingers before turning it over to read the back.
To: My sweet baker
From: Your college professor
I bite my tongue to keep my lips from forming into a smile.He had remembered.All this time I'd thought I was the only one.
I clear my throat, placing the card in my pocket. "Thank you, Gale. You can keep the roses. They brighten your office nicely."
"Oh...uh yeah I suppose they do. Thanks, boss. I'll see you next month."
"As long as everything goes okay."
He shuffles nervously, hugging the vase tightly to his body. "I always try my best to make sure it does."
"It definitely shows."
I lift one of the roses to my nose, closing my eyes and envisioning the way Miguel had stroked my cheek many years ago while he painted the perfect fantasy in my head. "I think I'll hold on to this one." I pluck the flower from the vase, pressing my fingers below the thorns. I take my time making my way downstairs, browsing my phone's messages before pushing the elevator button. I don't want to come off too eager even though the thought of keeping him waiting gnaws at my chest.
Old habits die hard. My body still thinks it belongs to him and so does my heart. My brain is barely hanging on in this losing game.
The elevator doors open, and the noisy floor drowns out my thoughts. My stomach flips the moment my eyes land on a man in a pink suit pushing a stack of chips forward with excitement in his eyes. I wonder if he even knows he's enjoying himself, appearing younger than yesterday with bright eyes.
"I didn't know you came to places like this. That is one pink suit, you look like a damn cortadillo.”
“Come and eat me then.”
I huff, rolling my eyes. “I’m not in the mood for leftovers.”
He laughs. “Or I could wear it again in a month and be your valentine, all ready to be unwrapped.”
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “What are you doing here, Miguel?”