The Only Girl in the Game Read Free Page B

you keep telling me. Should I put it in writing?”
    “Maybe you should. You keep forgetting.”
    “You won’t let me forget it, Max. I can depend on you.”
    “Ten years ago it was easier around here. Not in thisplace, because this place wasn’t built then. But the liquor was on the house, and a good meal was a dollar, and a room was three, and we didn’t have these problems. We didn’t need guys like you. Hotel managers!”
    Hugh Darren leaned forward. “And when I came here eight months ago, Max, you were supposed to be running the casino and Jerry was supposed to be running the hotel. But both of you were messing in each other’s back yards, and the place was such a mess they had to bring somebody in to straighten it out. Now stop telling me how good it used to be and tell me something I want to know. Is your life a lot simpler and easier than it used to be?”
    “I don’t know. I guess so. If you tell me it is.”
    “You know it is, Max. You want all the hotel operations run in such a way that you get maximum play in the casino. That’s what I’m giving you. And when you have any beef, you know where to come. People who have had bad food, short measure on their drinks and dirty rooms don’t come back and play your tables. So I’m building a new reputation for this place.”
    “It’s slow play out there this week. How come?”
    “You know how come. You booked a dog into the Safari Room, and when that show moves out and the Swede opens in her show, you’re going to get more play. So it’s your own fault, isn’t it? You book every bit of entertainment in here, and it comes out of the casino take, and I have nothing to do with it.”
    “Too much comes out of the casino take lately.”
    “Max, when you request me to give away food, drinks and lodging to special people who gamble heavy, I have to charge it to the casino. Otherwise, how can I keep logical books on my own operation? And the thirty per cent of all overhead wasn’t set up by me. You know that.”
    “What you’re trying to do, Darren, you’re trying to operate the hotel part with a profit,” Max Hanes said accusingly.
    “That’s what I was ordered to do, damn it! And I should be almost over into the black by the end of this year.”
    “It isn’t right. The hotel should run at a loss. It’s a service to bring the big play around, to sweeten the casino take.”
    “Don’t argue with me, Max. Argue with the management of every hotel on the Strip. That’s what they’re all aiming for. It’s the trend.”
    “It’s a bad trend.”
    A waitress came over to the booth. Hugh ordered a pot of coffee. Max Hanes asked for another sherry. The wineglass looked incongruous in his hairy, thick-fingered paw, as out of character as the ancient yellow of his long ivory cigarette holder and his salmon-pink sports jacket. He always reminded Hugh of some cynical old chimpanzee who goes through his act for the sake of the bananas.
    Hugh grinned at him. “No matter how much it bugs you, Max, we are working together, and it is becoming a better place to eat, sleep, drink and … lose your money.”
    “Every operation is getting so goddam legitimate lately,” Max said. “So I got to put up with changes. What do you want now? I should move out some slots so you got room for tea-dancing?”
    “You know damn well you’re stealing half my lobby next month.”
    “One third.”
    “Max, I want your advice. I want Jerry Buckler out of my hair. He’s a problem drunk. I spend too much time patching up his mistakes. I want him out of the picture as far as running the hotel end is concerned.”
    Max Hanes leaned back and the sallow lids hid most of his quick black eyes. “ You want him out of the way. You’re a pretty ambitious kid.”
    “Max, is he a drunk?”
    “Yes. It didn’t used to be so bad. The last couple of years, yes. And it gets worse, so old friends got to care for him.”
    “Is he incompetent?”
    “Would you be here if he wasn’t?