“What do you mean it gets taken?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
“Well, a lot of these guys don’t have anywhere to keep their stuff. So, if they do get something, they run the risk of having it stolen or destroyed.” Ashley sighed. “The shelters here just aren’t big enough to accommodate, especially since a lot of places offer free tickets to Vegas.” She nodded to the crowd. “This is twice what we had last year, and three times the year before that.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.” I frowned. “Is it something I could combat by writing a check?”
“I admire the offer, but it’s more endemic than that.” She took a deep breath. “One of the main issues is that the places that used to provide care and housing have been bulldozed so they could be turned into high-rises. There is literally nowhere for them to go.”
“And a lot of them can’t get jobs.” Ashely pointed to one of the tables where a ruffled looking black guy was sitting next to a pockmarked brunette. “That’s Joe. He’s a vet who got hurt in Iraq and has so much shrapnel in his legs that he has trouble walking. He’s in line in the VA for treatment, but every time it seems to be his turn, there’s another form and another delay. He’s been waiting three years.”
“And I’m guessing he can’t work because of his leg.” I frowned.
“Yes.” Ashley nodded emphatically. “Actually, a lot of these guys are vets. They used to get treatment, but ever since Chet McMahon took over the VA contracts, things have gotten a lot worse while costs have swelled.”
“Him again,” I growled, suddenly getting angry. I’m not sure why him fucking over vets pissed me off even more than the helpless poor, but, well, I sort of did. These men and women had sacrificed their minds and bodies for our country, and they deserved care for that sacrifice. They did not deserve to be screwed over so Chet could make more money.
“You know him?” Ashely asked, surprise filling her voice as she looked me up and down.
“Oh, I know him.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I tried to buy some of his hospitals so that I could help people …” I paused as a thought occurred to me. “Wait, you said he had VA contracts?”
“Yeah, he got them a few years ago.” Ashley bit her lip, thinking. “Actually, Jane knows a lot about it. She tried to organize something to keep him from getting it, but despite the protests, it got pushed right through.” She rolled her eyes. “Almost like the voice of the people doesn’t matter.”
“That’s ‘cause the people in charge don’t give two handfuls of warm shit about what is good for everyone.” An idea was starting to form in my brain. “Fortunately, everyone cares what I think. Or, well, they should.” I smirked.
“Seems you have a pretty high opinion of yourself,” Ashley stared at me for a moment. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad one.”
“Me either,” I laughed, before my phone went off, alerting me to the fact my meeting was in thirty minutes. How had time gone by so quickly?
“Does that mean it’s time to go?” Ashley looked at me, and for a second, I got the impression she didn’t want me to leave.
“Unfortunately, yes,” I said, turning so I could find Jane and say goodbye. “The life of a corporate mogul is never done.” I met Ashley’s eyes. “I want you to come to the meeting tomorrow with all the projects like this. Bring Jane too, I bet she has some good ideas.”
“Bring Jane where?” Jane asked as I stepped through the door, making me think she had ears like a fox.
“Roger is letting me pitch some public works projects to his charity tomorrow.” Ashley beamed at me. “He wants you to pitch some too.”
“You do?” Jane gave me a suspicious eyebrow raise. “You don’t seem like the type.”
“I have nearly infinite resources.” I shrugged. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to do something with it that isn’t snorting coke off hookers. It’s surprisingly hard actually. Like the system doesn’t want me to help.”
“The system is designed to extract every last penny from everyone.” Jane eyed me carefully. “Everyone needs help, from the middle class onward.”
My alarm beeped again. “Sorry, I do need to go. I have some corporate raiders to kick in the nuts.” I waved. “Do come tomorrow. I mean it.”
We said our goodbyes, and as I headed out, I wondered if Jane was right. I’d been focusing on the sick and needy, but there were so many others getting ground down by the system. Hell, I knew I paid my workers pretty well, and I didn’t even need the pen to do that. I just took a pay cut myself which was negligible after taxes anyway. Still, that was yet another battle, and if I had learned anything about myself, it was that I sucked at multitasking.
No. Now it was time to focus on one thing at a time, and first thing was first. I needed to get the Medallion out of debt. Still … maybe I could spare a moment to annoy Chet. After all, I was pretty sure everything that had happened was his fault.
Taking out my phone as I slid into the limo, I made a call.
“Hey, Roger, what’s up?” Ronnie said, and I could already tell she was surprised by my call. She was the former Miss Tennessee and had joined up with us when Presley had tried to kill her. “Couldn’t get through to Skye? I’m not surprised. She’s really busy …”
“Actually, I was wondering if you might want to do me a favor?” I asked, and there was a long silence before she replied.
“Sure, Roger. What do you want me to do?” She sounded a bit nervous, though I wasn’t sure why.
“Have you ever wanted to be a lobbyist?” I said, and there was another pause.
“I don’t know the first thing about … oh. You want to give me the skills?” Another pause. “Why me?”
“This is going to sound dumb, but because you’re you.”
“What?” she asked, now very confused. “My best skill is smiling and walking down the aisle.”
“Exactly, well, almost exactly. You’re the former Miss Tennessee. You’re exactly the type of girl who can get government douchebags to do your bidding. Like how all pharmaceutical reps are hot chicks,” I explained.
“So, you just want me for my hotness?” Ronnie replied, knowingly. “I should have guessed.”
“Aww, you know I think you’re more than a pretty face.”
“I know,” she replied casually. “Anyway, I’m in. I’m gonna lobby the fuck out of … uh, what am I gonna lobby?”
“It seems our friend Mister McMahon is about to lose his contracts to run the VA. I want to get them.”
9
Since I wasn’t quite sure who exactly was responsible for inspecting Chet’s hospitals and I knew Skye and Amy were busy dealing with the takeover, I decided to go with what I liked to call the “Roger Steven’s Overkill Approach.” Why? Because I had about ten minutes to kill on the drive to the bank.
A quick internet search gave me a list of every agency inspector in the state. Then I went ahead and booked inspections for everything. All at once. For, oh, an hour from now. Then I moved on to accounting firms.
Then, just because I was a dick, I made an anonymous tip to the local cops about some drugs and guns being stored in the back room of, well, all six of them. Two people could play this game after all.
Needless to say, I was feeling pretty good when we pulled up to the bank, and I got out of the car ready to take back my casino from these fucktards.
“You seem like you’re feeling well, Mr. Stevens,” my driver said as I stretched, basking in the sunlight for a moment. “Your community service must have agreed with you.”
“It never hurts to do the right thing,” I said with a smirk.
“That is so far from the truth, it’s sad,” my driver replied, giving me a quick salute. “But you always seem to come out on top, so good luck.”
“Thanks,” I said, nodding to him before making my way inside. I pulled the keycard as I approached the elevator, and a quick swipe caused it to open, revealing a richly appointed space that eas
ily cost more than the lobby. Clearly, this was meant to be impressive what with the gold filigree on the walls and exotic Venetian marble floors.
As the doors closed, and I hit the button for the fourteenth floor, the screens on the walls all around me turned on, displaying imagery from what reminded me of the Swiss Alps. For a moment, it was like I was flying over them in a way that reminded me of those theme park rides, only, like, way better because I was pretty sure girls didn’t normally ski in bikinis.
All too soon, the doors opened, and I found myself staring at a floor that was spartan in comparison to the elevator. I mean it was nice because the floors were marble, and there was artwork on the walls, but after my trip through the Swiss Alps, it seemed particularly soul-crushing, like the only thing I wanted to do was get the fuck out of here, and I couldn’t.
“Oh, clever,” I said to myself. I already wanted to leave, and we hadn’t even started. I’d be willing to bet it was a tactic to make the negotiations go better for whoever was behind the curtain pulling the strings.
Not that it’d matter because I was about to kick ass and chew bubblegum. And the best part? I wasn’t even out of gum.
I popped an obnoxious amount of cherry Bubblicious into my mouth as I headed to the conference room. Sitting in front of me was no less than fifteen different douchebags all cut from the same ‘I work nine million hours a week so that I can crush the souls of the innocent’ cloth. Better still, I could smell the smug in the air. They expected to take everything from me.
“Hello, Mr. Stevens,” the bank manager from earlier said, standing and gesturing to me by way of introduction. “You’ll find that everyone who owns a piece of your casino’s debt is present and accounted for.”
“Awesome,” I said, and as I moved toward the closest guy, an older gentleman who looked suspiciously like Harry Reid, I held out my hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
He stared at my hand for a long moment before turning his attention to the bank manager. “I’m not sure why we’re here. We won’t be negotiating with you over your debt.” He looked back at me, needling me with his stupid eyes. “In fact, the greatest likelihood is that I decide I want to be paid in full right now.”
“That’s perfect,” I said, popping my gum loudly as I moved to address the room. “I plan to pay all of you.” I nodded to the bank manager. “Do you have the paperwork?”
“What you’re saying is impossible,” a guy across the room said. He was younger with jet black hair, a goatee that made him look like a devil, and a face that made me wanna call him Raul, except he wasn’t dashingly handsome enough. “I’ve looked through your assets.” He tapped one impossibly long finger on a packet in front of him. “You barely have enough cash flow to cover your debt payments, and with all the bad press you’re getting,” - he met my eyes with a territorial glint - “I doubt that will even be the case next month.” He stood then. “So, here’s what’s going to happen.” He gestured to the people around us. “After you finish groveling, I’m going to make them all an offer for your debt. They’ll sell it to me too.” He rubbed his chin for a moment. “Probably for ten cents on the dollar because— OH MY GOD MY PANTS ARE ON FIRE.”
“Yeah, that’s what happens to liars,” I said right before I scribbled out the line I wrote on the pad. Then I popped my gum annoyingly. “Can we get some music? Something slow because this asshat clearly needs to calm the fuck down.”
The guy recovered quicker than I expected which was probably because I hadn’t let him actually get burned. I was already regretting that. “Fine. Let’s hear your pitch, Roger.”
“A pleasure.” I nodded around the room. “Pass me your papers, and once I look over them, you’ll be paid in full.”
“I already told you that was impossible,” Smokey Pants growled as Harry looked at me for a long time.
“Can you really pay us?” He turned toward me, giving me his full attention. “Because if you can …”
“I can.” I nodded around this room. “I didn’t come here to negotiate. I just needed to pay you guys. Ask him.” I pointed to the bank manager. “I paid him off this morning.”
“Your cash flow is such that—”
I interrupted Smokey Pants by smacking the table with one hand. “I’m not sure why this is difficult. Do you not want to get your money back?”
“Not really.” Harry stared at me for a long time. “That’s not how this works.”
“Let me guess. You planned on ballooning the payments and making it so that we spent so much money servicing your debt that we’d be forced to go into bankruptcy, all the while strip-mining the casino's assets, namely the money you’d lent us. And you’d write us all off as a loss, so you didn’t pay taxes because it’d force me into bankruptcy.” I smirked. “Am I close?”
“Yes.” Harry slid the paper with his portion of the debt toward me. “But I’ll bite. Pay me back.”
I glanced at the paper, and as I did, my eyes widened. He owned almost two billion dollars’ worth of my debt, and early payment triggered an option that required all the expected interest for the entire term of the loan to be paid as well. Crazy.
“Phil,” Smokey Pants said, addressing the older man with urgency in his voice. “You can’t let him pay it.”
“Quiet, Arthur.” Phil looked at me and shrugged. “He’s a terrible poker player.” He tapped the paper with one finger. “Me, I’m not so sure you’re bluffing.”
“I’m not,” I said, pulling the paper toward me and pretending to read it. Then I wrote a simple note on it with my magic.
Paid in full with interest.
As the letters solidified into truth, I met Phil’s eyes. “Check and see for yourself. You’ll find I’ve already paid it.”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow at me before nodding once and turning to the manager. “Well?”
“It’s true, sir.” I thought the manager’s voice was pretty subdued given that I had just paid two billion dollars with the stroke of a pen. “The debt has been paid.”
“What about the interest?” Phil asked, eyes never leaving mine.
“That is here too, sir.” The manager hit a button causing the screen behind me to light up with the image that had been on his laptop screen. “You have all the interest you’d expected to get over the life of the loan.”
Instead of addressing the manager, Phil nodded once. “Well, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you. That’s the easiest money I’ve ever made.” He held out his hand, and as we shook, the others moved toward me, all rushing to get their money back with a tidy profit. All except Arthur, anyway. “Let me know if you need another loan.”
A few minutes later, I only owed half a billion dollars.
“You think you’ve won,” Arthur said after everyone else had left. He still sat at the table, drumming his fingers in an increasingly annoying rhythm. “But all you’ve done is tip your hand.” He nodded to me. “I still own the debt, and I can still have my inspectors look.” He rose and adjusted his suit. “And you’ve made your company more valuable, so when I take it from you, I’ll make more money.
“You don’t get it,” I said, sighing as I ran a hand through my hair. “You lost the moment you decided not to play ball.” I tapped my pen against the table. “If you go up against me, you will lose so hard you’ll be fucking lucky that you still have a pot to piss in when it’s over.”
“Do you know how many people like you I’ve dealt with?” Arthur said, sidling toward me. When we were nearly nose to nose, he waved a dismissive hand at me. “I actually have a term for you.”
“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is it lord and savior?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It’s a goo-goo.” He smirked. “You think you can do some good, and that’s great. But you can’t. Why?” He turned then and gestured toward the window that looked out over Las Vegas. “It’s because there are people ten times worse than me. And they won’t like what you’re doing. I know because I don’t like what you’r
e doing.”
“Then I’ll run over them too.” I shrugged. “You guys aren’t even playing the same game as me.”
“Is that because you have that magic pen?” He didn’t even look at me. “I’ve heard about it. Tried to buy one once actually. Some old lady had one locked in her safe. In the end, she decided she’d rather die with it.” He shrugged. “Never did find out what happened to it.”
“Who are you?” I asked, suddenly guarded. “A pen user? Someone who works for one?”
“Arthur Modi.” He smirked as he turned to me. “Thought you knew that.”
“The guy who owns the inspecting company?” I raised an eyebrow. “You know I could make you lose your license. Make all sorts of bad things come true.” I pointed at the window. “I could make you leap from that window.”
“I know.” He sidled toward me. “Which is why I’m going to make you a real offer.”
“Oh?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. “You really don’t have a lot to bargain with.” I turned my eyes to the bank manager. “Give me the paperwork for his debt.” There was a ping of a voice command in my ear, and the guy went all glassy-eyed. Then he slid the paperwork toward me. “I could be done right here, right now.”
“Yeah, you don’t have to prove it to me.” He turned his attention back toward the skyline. “You know, I never wanted to be the number two guy at anything.” He shrugged. “It’s why I did what I did. Thought I’d take you out of the game early and pad my pockets at the same time. Wish I knew you were a pen guy. I’d have just walked early, but Chet said we’d make a bundle.” He waved his hand dismissively. “And you know what, I’ll sign the paper.” He turned and picked it up. “But I want more than money, sir.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“See, I’m done competing with you pen users. Never can tell who it is either. Not until you’re so awash in red ink…” He offered me the papers. “I want you to make me happy with what I have.” He nodded toward the pen. “Do that, and we can trade.”
To Vegas with love Page 5
