Lost In Vegas by Ian Jones

Author:Ian Jones [Ian Jones]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781912850099
Publisher: Clink Street Publishing
Published: 2019-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

It had been a long and difficult day for Pablo. Normally nobody ever saw him until after eleven, but he had gone through an elaborate and unconvincing ploy to make it appear he was out of town. He did this by getting Stefan to take him to McCarran airport around eight after discovering that Shaun Farley was not interested in getting drunk on sake or in any of the girls that he was being offered. In actual fact, Shaun had made it clear he wanted to be up early to continue his review of the hotel accounts, and was expecting to receive the payment by lunchtime. So Pablo sat around a coffee shop at the airport for hours, until Stefan then made a big show of collecting him, who in turn magnanimously arranged a complicated and elaborate lunch where he regaled Shaun stories of his successful business trip. This was his first meeting with Shaun Farley, and Pablo was distinctly unimpressed by his short and skinny stature, thinning red hair and glasses. Pablo had met men like this before and they were easy to bully, and even easier to belittle and manipulate.

But Shaun had remained staunchly unimpressed, and insisted on a private meeting with Pablo, which despite several desperate but feeble attempts to avoid ended up with Pablo seated opposite Shaun who had piled a large stack of paperwork on the desk between them. Pablo was just glad they weren’t in his own office, which so far he had kept secret. He didn’t even know who’s it was they were in now, but it was very neat and tidy with a ‘World’s best Mom’ mug next to the computer.

Shaun began by recounting figures which showed a dismal performance by both the hotel itself, but even worse the casino. Pablo said nothing, just made a show of making notes. He couldn’t believe he was stuck in this room, answering bullshit questions from some half Irish midget that a bunch of faceless nobodies in New York had sent to see him.

There were sheets of numbers and then an annual spreadsheet containing a graph with a distinctly downward facing red line, and then monthly breakdowns with even more numbers in red, which were all explained in detail to Pablo who tuned it out; wondering when it would all be over.

Eventually Shaun laid down his Montblanc pen and pushed his glasses up his nose. He stared at Pablo who began to sweat.

‘You do appreciate Pablo, the leniency that my employers have shown you out of the deep respect for your father.’

‘My father!’ spat Pablo.

Shaun made no effort to be placatory.

‘If your father were here, I doubt very much I would need to be.’

‘Yeah, yeah. My father the saint. Look Shaun, you don’t need to worry.’

‘I’m not worried.’

‘Well, whatever but you are getting your money today. It’s not my fault; the whole world has bad debts right?’

‘There are no significant debtors on your accounts Pablo. Plenty of creditors.’

‘What? Well, yes but you have to understand I’m a businessman, I have many other concerns.

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