“As you said, it takes time. But better to focus on the future.”
“You’d think you would want to be part of that grooming process.”
“Perhaps you missed the part where I’ve given seminars, many for free, for that very purpose, over the past few years. Trying to eliminate the online scam sites and to help bring more organization and a better profile to the sport. I’ve given at the office, Maks. Now I’m done.”
The smile returned now, only it was the kind that made a person’s skin crawl. Reptilian, was the word that came to mind. “In this game, in this sport, you are only done when you lose too much to come back. It breaks your heart, this game, and your spirit. That is not the case with you. You will not be walking away, as you claim. Perhaps for a time, but it will bring you back.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a sterling silver business card sleeve. He depressed a button and some hidden mechanism pushed a single, engraved card from one end. He extended the card to Brett. “When that time comes, it is strongly suggested that you contact us first. We will work together again, as we have in the past. It will be good for all concerned.”
Brett took the card merely to expedite the end of this little tête-à-tête.
“And you have much to be concerned about, Mr. Hennessey.”
Brett had already taken a step back in preparation for heading back to the elevator, glad that their business had been concluded without the whole charade of drinks at the bar. But as he paused and looked back, his gaze narrowed. “Care to explain that comment in more detail?”
“I only meant that there are always those who will rely and depend on you, no matter how far you run. In fact, I believe I noticed one of them here in the hotel, earlier. A friend of yours, I believe. If I’m not mistaken, I believe I overheard him on his phone, while dining a table or two away, looking to find some action on the event this coming weekend. Perhaps he could use your assistance there?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Brett said, quite honestly, but the hairs on the back of his neck had prickled a bit at the comment. Maks could be lying to try to get a rise out of him. He wasn’t surprised at the veiled comment; it hadn’t been the first time. And he hadn’t been the only one who was more than a little persistent in trying to woo him back for another round or two. Maks, and his boss, Rudov, were just the only ones he didn’t like. Their association had ended a long time ago; though he had played more than a few events at their resort in the intervening years, he’d done no work for them personally in promotion or marketing. Only now that they weren’t getting any piece of him did he fully realize to what lengths they were willing to go to get any piece of him back. He could have told Maksimov that that approach alone had already cost him any opportunity that might ever arise. Not that one would.
“Perhaps you should have a little talk with your friend.” Maksimov slid the silver case back inside the breast pocket of his perfectly tailored suit jacket. He lifted a shoulder as if to say that it mattered not to him, one way or the other. “I will be staying through the weekend. We will talk again, I am certain.” With that, he tipped a hand to his forehead and turned away from both the pub entrance and the first bank of elevators, strolling through the remainder of the lobby and out the rear doors that led to the private villas.
Brett watched him exit; then he finally turned to the elevators, thankful that no other untimely intrusions occurred, breathing a little sigh of relief when the doors slid shut without further obstruction. He glanced at his watch. Half past. Surely Dan was still up. His friend could nurse a bit of a grudge, but now was not the time to let him wallow in his dissatisfaction. Brett would find some way to make him understand why he’d made the choices he had, and also find some way to help him out. If Maks was telling the truth, then Dan was in far more desperate straights than Brett had realized. Dan would listen to him this time. He wasn’t leaving until they had a working solution. To both the business and the friendship issues.
The door opened to the top floor, which housed three suites in this section. His was the larger one at the end of the short hallway. He patted his jacket and realized he’d left the inn without his wallet, which had his other key card in it. So he rapped on the door. “Dan, it’s Brett.”
He didn’t hear anything, but the suite door was thick. Premium rates got you as quiet a room as possible. He knocked again, harder this time. “Dan,” he said again, as loud as he dared without risking annoying the other occupants of the floor. He wasn’t entirely sure there were any, but thought it best to err on caution’s side.
He was just considering heading back down to the lobby for another key, willing to risk pissing his friend off further by letting himself into the room, when the door cracked open. The safety latch was in place.
“Not exactly a hotbed of crime here, you know,” he said lightly. “You want to let me in?”
It was dark beyond the small crack of doorway. “I thought we agreed to put this off a day. I’m beat.”
He also wasn’t showing his face. “What’s going on, Dan?”
“Sleep. Or it was, anyway. Till you came banging. Shoulda gotten my own room. What, she kick you out or something?”
“No, I came to talk to you. About…well, everything.”
“Can’t it wait until I get some sleep?”
He either sounded extremely fatigued or a little drunk. Or both. He and Dan had shared a few beers after a particularly grueling workday, but neither of them were drinkers by nature. So he didn’t really know what to think. Had he really been that upset? Or were things just that bad? He remembered what Maksimov had told him downstairs. Not that he’d put it past the man to lie, but Brett had a niggling suspicion there was more to that story. “Come on, it’s not even nine p.m., which makes it seven back in Vegas. You’re not that jet lagged. I thought we could take some time before the true craziness descends in the next day or two to catch up and maybe talk things through a little.”
He waited. Dan didn’t say anything, but he didn’t close the door in Brett’s face.
“I feel like I’m standing out here begging for a nightcap; come on.”
He thought he heard a short snort. Then the door closed, but just long enough for the safety latch to come off. When the door swung back open, Dan was holding the knob but standing just behind the door in his boxers.
“Mind if we turn a light on in here?”
Dan’s response was a short grunt. Fortunately Brett’s hand was already reaching for the light switch before the door shut behind him, sinking them both into full darkness. A moment later, soft lighting on low tables situated just beyond the foyer area flickered on, bathing the stylishly decorated main room in a warm glow. Perfect mood setting for that late-night date a guy might bring back to the room, but not much to go on for a regular conversation. He moved into the living area and reached down to turn on one of the end table lamps.
“Can we just-not,” Dan finished lamely, as Brett switched on the more high powered lamp.
He turned to see Dan squinting in the sudden light, holding his hand up like a shield. But not shield enough to keep Brett from seeing the nasty bruise on his cheek and the split at the corner of his mouth.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Ran into a door,” he retorted. “Can I get you a beer? Why the hell not,” he answered himself, “you’re paying for them. Did you know they stock the damn fridge? And I don’t mean the minibar. I don’t think this room even has one of those.” He scuffed bare feet across the thick carpeting as he headed into the more dimly lit kitchen area. It was more a wet bar with a Jennair in the middle, and a full-size Sub-zero fridge lodged at one end, then it was a full-fledged kitchen, but it screamed luxury nonetheless. “Wait, what am I saying?” he added dryly as he opened the fridge door, ducking his head a little at the bright interior light. “Of course you know they stock the fridge. You’re used to this shit. How in the hell you’re tired of the shit, I have no idea. Pretty sweet deal,” he added, fishing out two long necks and closing the door with an audible sigh. He grabbed a dish towel and screwed the tops off. “Of course, I guess there’s the irony that you score the best free stuff when you can actually afford to pay for it, but why go there?”