Eros Ascending: Book 1 of Tales of the Velvet Comet Read Free Page A

“I'll expect complete access to the computer's data banks by tomorrow morning.” He paused. “And I'll want a tour of the facilities.”
    “Somehow I was sure that you would,” said the Leather Madonna.
    “Look,” said Redwine reasonably. “We seem to be getting off on the wrong foot, and there's no reason for it. We both work for the same company, and we both want your operation to make as much money as it can. We have a lot more in common than you might think.”
    “Mr. Redwine,” she said, “I run the finest brothel in the galaxy, and you spend all your time counting other people's money. What could we possibly have in common?” She finished her drink, then shrugged and smiled courteously. “Still, there's no reason why we can't work together in relative harmony.
    You'll be given access to the material you need tomorrow afternoon.”
    “What about tomorrow morning?” he persisted.
    “I thought you wanted a tour of the ship.” She noticed his empty glass. “Can I offer you a refill?”
    “Well, as long as I'm not working tonight, why not?” he said amicably.
    She pressed a section of the tabletop, and a moment later a tall, bronzed, blond man, heavily muscled and wearing nothing but sandals and a loincloth, entered the room.
    “Mr. Redwine will have another whiskey, without ice or water,” said the Leather Madonna.
    He nodded and went over to the bar. She turned back to Redwine and was about to say something when the top of the chrome table glowed with a dim phosphorescence and suddenly came to life, displaying the image of a middle-aged man in formal attire.
    “Yes?” said the Leather Madonna.
    “We have a counter at the blackjack table,” said the man.
    “Who is it?”
    “Esteban Fuentes.”
    “How many decks are you using?”
    “Two.”
    “All right,” said the Leather Madonna. “Use five decks. If he can keep track of them, he deserves to win.”
    The tabletop went blank.
    “I thought the casino was out of your bailiwick,” remarked Redwine.
    The Leather Madonna sighed. “Mr. Redwine, while we keep time aboard the Velvet Comet as a matter of convenience for our customers, in point of fact there isn't any day or night up here. We're an around-the-clock operation, and even our pit boss has to sleep every now and then. The man working the current shift is new to the job, and still unsure of himself in potentially awkward situations. Now, Mr. Fuentes is a very good customer of all our facilities, and one doesn't offend a very good customer when it can be avoided—or do you think we should have forbidden him to gamble until the pit boss wakes up and has breakfast?” She paused. “I realize that the company has its own ideas concerning our chain of command, but we're dealing with people here, not figures in one of your ledgers—and no matter how much money the casino brings in, it's still an adjunct to our main business. And I don't propose to let them offend my patrons.” She watched him carefully for his reaction.
    “I'm not here to tell you what to do or how to do it,” said Redwine, noticing that she seemed to relax slightly as the words sunk in. “I'm just here to observe.”
    “I thought you were here to audit the books.”
    “And to appraise and evaluate the business,” he added.
    “And how many brothels have you appraised and evaluated in your long and varied experience?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
    “Not a one,” he admitted. “In point of fact, I've never even been in one before today.”
    “Then please feel free to call on me for any assistance you may require.”
    “I just may do that,” said Redwine, wondering if she had just propositioned him, and deciding to ignore it rather than make a fool of himself in case it had been a totally innocent remark.
    The young blond man walked over, handed Redwine his drink, and looked questioningly at the Leather Madonna.
    “That will be all,” she said.
    He inclined his head slightly, then left the room.
    “Does he