by Suzie Nelson
Despite the fact that I was sitting pretty as the new owner of the Golden Nugget casino, my story was almost just as complicated as Jenny’s own. I’d never imagined that I would ever live in the United States, much less run a casino in Las Vegas. My only ambition had been to be a professional musician in France, just like my father; only I wanted to become even more successful than my dad who’d been something of a local celebrity in Paris with his regular performances at the local theaters and nightclubs. He was a brilliant flamenco guitarist and had taught me, from an early age, how to play the guitar.
I was well on my way to achieving all the dreams of my youth when tragedy struck. Both of my parents were killed in a car accident and I was suddenly left an orphan. Even though I was already playing guitar at many nightclubs in Paris I was still too young to live on my own, as I was only 14 at the time.
The only solution to my sudden predicament was to accept the invitation of my grandmother, Vivienne Du Bois, to come and live with her in Florida, USA. She’d often extended the same invitation while my parents were alive, but I never saw the point of going to live in America when all of my dreams could come true in France, the place of my birth.
“In every tragedy, you find the seeds of opportunity, Francois,” was one of the first things my grandmother told me when she picked me up at the airport after my flight from Paris.
“Yes, Grandma,” I replied.
“Don’t call me that, I’m not quite ready to die just yet,” she said with a smile, “from now on, you call me Vivienne.”
I finished school and received daily lectures from my grandmother about the ‘real world’ and its requirements. I soon started to understand why my own artistically inclined father, while he was still alive, had steered clear of his mother and the seductions of the family fortune. Vivienne was like a finely tuned machine with only one goal in mind; making even more money with the millions she already had in her bank account. She’d inherited the family fortune after my grandfather passed away. Most of the money had been made from the purchase and sale of real estate and Vivienne soon taught me the ins and outs of property development.
“One day, if you prove yourself worthy, you will inherit the entire family fortune,” Vivienne said to me one day, “but if you disappoint me I might just donate it all to charity.”
I knew her well enough by then to know that she was serious. I have to confess that, by that time, I’d developed quite taste for the finer things in life and had come to appreciate the benefits of having a limitless supply of cash. For some reason, Vivienne did not restrict me at all when it came to the acquisition of ridiculously expensive assets. At the ripe old age of 18, she’d bought me a Ferrari Testarossa and I only dressed in the most expensive clothes.
I realize now that this was all a ploy to cultivate a true interest in me for the business she wanted me to take over one day. I was Vivienne’s last living relative and, more than anything else, she wanted to leave a legacy behind when she passed away.
“What are you thinking about?” Jenny asked and interrupted my recollections from the past.
I was just thinking again how you played that last hand to perfection tonight,” I replied, “Just what made you decide to double up on your bet?”
“Just a hunch, I guess,” Jenny said with a seductive smile and I felt the excitement of the chase rising up in my chest right then. My mind was made up; I wanted Jenny and I was going to have her.
“If you really want something in this life, there is no force in the world that can stop you!” Vivienne always said and I’d come to truly believe that. I still played my guitar and wanted to be a musician, but when I decided that I wanted to start playing live music at some restaurant Vivienne used this as an opportunity to show me the true power of money. She simply bought me a fancy restaurant and I could play music there whenever I wanted; I was never going to grovel before some restaurant owner for a gig like my dad often had to.
When I turned 27 Vivienne had a serious talk with me. She explained to me that she was pleased with how I’d been developing as a young man and was impressed with my business acumen, but felt that I needed to prove myself to her in order to persuade her to leave me the entire family fortune in her last will.
“What do you want me to do to prove this?” I asked.
“Choose a business, any business. I will not buy it for you but I will buy you the controlling shares in the business you choose. Then it’s up to you to show me that you can make a success of the business.”
“Why not just buy the business in full?” I asked.
“Because I want you to face the challenges of the other shareholders. That’s the only way you can prove to me that you will be able to hold onto the family fortune despite all of the vultures that will be after it when I’m gone.”
“I want to run a casino,” I suggested, without even hesitating for a moment.
“Why a casino? That’s probably one of the most difficult things in the world to run profitably because the competition is so intense!” Vivienne replied, playing devil’s advocate.
“I’ve often thought about it, Vivienne,” I replied, “Ever since I visited the Las Vegas Strip for the first time I’ve thought how cool it would be to own a casino.”
“Very well then, a casino it will be and you will have 6 months to show me you can run it well enough to prove that you will be a worthy heir of the family fortune.”
That was that; I became the controlling shareholder of the Golden Nugget casino and quickly discovered that this was a cutthroat business. The other shareholders were breathing down my neck and continuously tried to wrestle control of the casino away from me with offers to purchase my shares.
“So what brings a French gentleman like you to the sinful shores of Las Vegas?” Jenny asked as the waiter served us our delicious quail in red wine sauce.
“Just curiosity,” I lied and tasted a mouthful of the softly cooked meat. It tasted better than anything I’d ever had in Vegas and I made mental note to instruct the chef at the Golden Nugget to add this dish to our menu.
“And how long exactly will your curiosity keep you here?” Jenny continued her gentle interrogation. I knew that she had a mind that could cut through bullshit like a hot knife through French butter so I thought carefully before answering.
“As long as I find new things to keep me interested, ma chérie,” I said with a smile and she gave me one of those probing looks that could easily break through a man’s defenses if he wasn’t vigilant, but I was ready to take a chance.
Time was of the essence I knew that I only had 6 months to prove to Vivienne that I was a worthy heir to the family fortune. I was already formulating a rough plan in my mind and was thinking it would be interesting to follow Jenny around as she scammed the other casinos on the Las Vegas Strip to learn as much as I could about the competition and their weaknesses. No-one in Vegas knew that I was the new controlling shareholder and manager of the Golden Nugget, as the other shareholders were miles away in their ivory towers and they didn’t mingle with the casino business on ground level, so I had the element of surprise in my favor.
“Who was that large man standing at your Blackjack table when you sat down for the first time?” I asked. I decided to test Jenny and see how quickly she could come up with some kind of explanation for the Pit Boss who’d showed an interest in her gambling early on.
“Oh, that was a Pit Boss,” she replied without blinking an eye or losing a single stroke of her smooth rhythm, “Guys like him just stand around to try and stop girls like me from mesmerizing the Blackjack dealer with my obvious charms.” She gave me her most innocent smile as she delivered her lines and I had to admit that she was good. Very good indeed.
“I would really enjoy taking you out to some exciting casino tomorrow evening so we can enjoy some more of the pleasures of Vegas together,” I said without thinking about it any further.
“You mean you want to watch me gamble and ho
pefully seduce me afterward?” Jenny said without blinking an eye.
“Mon Dieu,” I replied, “you sure have a way with words, ma chérie,” I replied and gave her my most winning smile.
“I try,” she said and smiled right back at me. “Tomorrow night it is then, but right now I want to get back to my hotel room and get some rest.”
I paid the bill and left the waiter a handsome tip before getting us a taxi and dropping Jenny off in front of her hotel.
“I will pick you up tomorrow evening at 7,” I said and kissed her good night on the back of her hand.
“I wouldn’t miss it for all the French kisses in the world,” Jenny Blake replied and left me standing there, slightly perplexed and very, very horny.
JENNY
I just knew that something was up with Francois. And that ‘something’ was more than just his cock soldier standing at attention after I’d put my moves on him.
I opened the door to my hotel room and went straight to the safe in the bedroom. I never trusted the hotel staff with my winnings and preferred to keep it overnight in the room safe until I could deposit it into an inconspicuous account the following morning. I guess being somewhat of a con-artist eventually had the effect of making you trust no-one except yourself.
“Just what is it you’re hiding, Mr. French playboy?” I whispered to myself as I took off my clothes and turned on the shower.
The water fell on my tired body like drops of Jupiter from the gods and I enjoyed the way it seemed to wash all of my troubles away as I stood there enjoying its wet warmth.
My mother was very ill and it was only a question of time before she would have to go for an expensive operation to remove a growth from her brain. She’d been unable to get any medical cover, as no insurance company was willing to sign up a 62-year-old woman with a possibly malignant brain tumor. My mother’s operation was going to cost more than half a million dollars and I was still about $200,000 shy of putting together that total with my card counting efforts. If I didn’t get the money together soon, my failure would have the effect of sending my mother to her grave. I realized that this kind of pressure was a terrible sword of Damocles to have hanging over my head. As a gambler, I could not perform at my best when my mind was not free to play the cards as they were dealt, rather than trying to force the issue.
I got out of the shower and fell onto my bed. I was satisfied with the day’s work but knew that I still had a lot to do if I was going to get enough money together for my mom’s operation, so I was planning on hitting another casino very hard the next day. But to excel again, I needed to rejuvenate my mental strengths and so I soon drifted off to sleep and slept like a baby.
I woke up the next morning; feeling refreshed and I got out of bed to draw away the curtains and take in the sight of the city that never stops gambling. Las Vegas was not exactly the most beautiful place on earth but there was something very enchanting about the sight of 50 casinos on the Strip where your life could change in the flash of an eye. Unfortunately, the change that most often took place was that of a poor gambler who’d come looking for his fortune losing everything and ruining his life. I was not planning on being one of those poor sods, though.
I put on one more of the revealing little numbers I’d brought with me. It was never too early in the day for a low-cut blouse, to paraphrase one of my dear dad’s favorite sayings; he actually believed that it was never too early in the day for a drink or a bet on the ponies.
I wasn’t quite sure which casino I wanted to visit that morning and, for some reason, I felt like walking by the Golden Nugget while I was trying to make up my mind about my next move. They say a crook always returns to the scene of the crime and, whilst I didn’t consider myself to be a lawbreaker in any way by counting cards, I have to admit that it felt good to walk past the casino I’d ransacked with my card-playing skills the previous evening. There was something akin to celebration about the whole thing and I smiled as I thought how sweet it was to avenge my family’s misfortunes by making these unscrupulous gambling institutions pay for their misdeeds.
I was just about to walk further down the Strip when I saw him. Francois. French playboy extraordinaire and sweet talker of note. He was walking straight into the doors of the Golden Nugget and the doorman tipped his hat as Francois walked past him. This was not exactly unusual behavior for a doorman, but I still thought there was something oddly familiar in the way that Francois entered the casino. Was he some kind of con-artist himself? I suddenly felt curiosity getting the better of me and, on the spur of the moment, I decided to follow him into the Golden Nugget.
I kept a safe distance from my unsuspecting gorgeous prey and looked the other way when I thought he was going to look around at one point. I expected Francois to head for the bar and sit down next to some unsuspecting female victim, but he headed for the lifts and I followed suit. Just about 5 seconds after Francois’s elevator doors had closed I got into the elevator next to his and then realized that I had absolutely no idea which floor he would be heading for. I quickly got out at the first floor and went to a stand in front of the elevator doors on the side of Francois’s elevator to see where the light would stop. Number 17 lit up and stayed lit for about 30 seconds. Of course that did not mean, necessarily, that Francois had gotten out on the 17th floor; it could also have been someone else who’d stopped the elevator on that floor, but it was the only information I had so I got back into my lift and pressed 17 on the panel and waited as the elevator rose up to the 17th floor.
When the doors opened it appeared to be a floor with expensive penthouse suites and this, once again, did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary for an obviously wealthy man like Francois who could afford to buy a strange woman a $3,000 bottle of French champagne.
“You’re just a paranoid, overly-suspicious girl with a knot in her panties,” I smilingly whispered to myself.
It appeared that Francois had simply headed for his hotel room and it made perfect sense that he’d been staying in the Golden Nugget; after all, that’s where I’d met him. I was just about to leave when I heard the most beautiful classical guitar music coming from one of the rooms. It couldn’t be Francois playing the guitar that well, could it? I knew it wasn’t music from the radio or some other recording, because the music stopped and started up again as the guitarist played various improvisations of the same tune. I was just about to go closer to try and sneak a peek through the keyhole to see who was playing the delightful guitar music when a cleaning lady came around the corner and I had to turn around and leave before I was discovered for the nosy parker I’d been.
I made my way down to the ground floor after my brief soiree into the world of impromptu spying and briskly walked out the front door. I didn’t want to be spotted by someone who’d watched me win $44,000 the previous evening with the possibility of getting involved in some eyebrow-raising discussion with a curious tourist or something silly like that.
“Pyramid of money, here I come,” I thought to myself as I made my way to the next place that was about to experience the wrath of Jenny Blake’s card counting prowess. I made my way to the Luxor casino, which was built in the shape of an Egyptian pyramid, and took a deep breath before entering its shiny front door.
FRANCOIS
Did I expect Jenny to have some kind of ability or skill that would be so valuable to me that it would help me convince Vivienne I was worthy of inheriting the family fortune? No. She was a great card counter but I wasn’t that enamored with Jenny’s gambling skills.
Did I expect Jenny to be very different from the other women I’d met during my stay in Las Vegas? No. She was very sexy in the most voluptuously delicious way but I’d had equally hot women in my time.
Was I especially horny for Jenny Blake after having dinner with her the previous evening? Yes, a thousand times yes.
What exactly was it that intrigued me so much about her and made me wonder what it would be like to take her in my arms? I
t was the fact that she didn’t just accept the hand life had dealt her and she had a real fighting spirit inside her. I’d met many beautiful models and actresses who enjoyed living in the limelight, yet they would cry at the drop of a hat and had no depth of character.
Here was a young woman who stood up for herself and struck back at the injustice she had to face as a young girl. Jenny Blake was beautiful and strong enough to rise above her troubles. She was also kind of cheeky in a way that I found refreshing; I didn’t like it when girls just fell down at my feet. I couldn’t predict exactly how things would play out between us, but I thought that getting to know Jenny better would be a riveting experience and she might just turn out to be a strong ally in my quest to prove myself in the gambling world.
Having reconfirmed in my mind the true reason why I looked forward to going out with Jenny so much, I put down my guitar and got undressed and took a quick shower before dressing down in comfortable slacks and a t-shirt before opening my laptop to take a closer look at the financial figures of Golden Nugget’s last financial year. The true challenge of impressing Vivienne, I soon realized as I perused the figures, lay not in taking a struggling casino and making it profitable; but rather in taking an incredibly profitable casino and making it even more profitable. The Golden Nugget had shown a net profit, after taxes, of $126 million in the previous financial year and I realized that I was going to have my work cut out for me.
