Glottis stopped his polishing. “Huh?”
“It seems that the left hand” I pointed to Glottis “didn’t let the right hand” I pointed at myself “know what it was doing.”
A sheepish, contrite expression seeped over Glottis’ face. “Geez, sorry, Manny. I guess I kinda forgot.”
“Kinda…” I shook my head. “What did this set us back?”
“I got it for a song,” Glottis said. Lola went ‘phew’ and waved her hand in front of her nose hole. “Sorry. The lady who owned it is moving on. I promised to give it a good home.” He started polishing again.
“Give us a sample,” I said.
“Sure, Manny!” Glottis said. He sat down on the bench and played something that sounded like Gershwin. Whatever it was, it sounded pretty good. When he was done, Glottis said, “Well? What do you think?”
“I thought you were created just to drive?”
“Well, you know, over the years even a demon dabbles here and there.”
“I can see that,” I said. “But you forgot something.”
Worry creased Glottis’ face. “What’s that, Manny?”
I went over to the bar and got a brandy snifter. I put it on top of the piano and said, “The customers need a place to drop their requests.”
“Oh. Didn’t think about that.”
I patted him on the arm. “Yeah, but you got most of it right.” I gave the piano a pat, too. “Good thinking, carnal.”
“Thanks, boss!” Glottis beamed.
“And you were worried about hiring a piano player,” Lola chided as we went back to the casino to settle our argument.
I shrugged. “So what was I to think? I’ve got a lot of money worries on me.”
“Yeah, but you just assumed Glottis had fouled up.”
“Well, sometimes Glottis doesn’t think.”
Lola shook her head sharply. “He can be a little… enthusiastic. But you’ve got this idea in your head that he’s dumb. You see everything he does through that. Sometimes you get so wrapped up in what you think about things that you don’t really see them.”
I thought Lola was getting pretty worked up, but I just said, “You finished?”
She gave a quick nod.
“OK. So what am I not seeing about the craps table?”
“Roulette’s classier.”
I laughed. “OK. You win.”
Finally, after weeks of feverish work, we were done. Everything was in place, the joint was stocked, the ads were in the papers, and the invitations to the grand opening had been sent out. On the evening we opened a squadron of butterflies were holding an air show underneath my rib cage. It was down to just a few minutes before the doors were opened and I was still in my office trying to get into my new tux. I just couldn’t get the tie knotted right. I gave up and went downstairs.
“Where’s Lola?” I asked Lupe, the hat-check girl.
“I think she’s in the kitchen harassing Jock,” she answered. “What’s up, boss?”
“I can’t get this stupid tie done.”
“I’ll take care of it!” Lupe said, vaulting over her counter instead of going through the door to her little room. She pounced on my tie and started wrestling it into submission.
“Careful!” I said desperately. “It’s not a noose.”
“Sheesh!” Lupe exclaimed. “Men are just little boys in long pants! There!”
I stuck a couple of fingers into my collar just to see if I could. “How’s it look?”
“Perfect! You’re gonna wow ’em, Manny.”
“Well, I hope there’s plenty of ‘them’ to wow.”
“Are you kidding? You’ll have to beat ’em off with a stick!”
“That could only help business,” I said dryly. “You’d better get into position. We’ll be opening soon and I wouldn’t want the crowd to trample you.” Lupe laughed loudly and jumped back into her room. “Some day I’ll have to arrange an introduction between you and that door,” I said, turning to go into the restaurant.
Lola was coming out of the kitchen. “Everything OK?” I asked.
She saluted and said, “Everything’s ship-shape, captain.”
“Great,” I said, “and all this time I thought I was building a nightclub. Well,” I took a deep, pointless breath, “I guess this it.”
“It sure is,” she said. Something seemed off in her tone of voice.
“Everything is OK, right?” I asked.
“Uh-huh,” she said. I dropped it. If she had something to say, she’d say it when she was ready.
“Did we ever get an RSVP from Toto?” I asked to change the subject.
Lola gave a little laugh. “He didn’t know what ‘RSVP’ meant. But he said he won’t be coming. He said he would feel out of place.”
I shrugged. “I kinda figured that. Had to try. What about Olivia?”
“Yeah, she RSVP’d. At least, I guess that envelope full of ashes was from her…” She affected thoughtful puzzlement, placing a forefinger alongside her temple as if giving the problem careful consideration.
It was my turn to laugh. “It probably was from her, then. Well, I’ll make sure everyone knows what her answer was. That should make her customers feel good.”
Glottis came in from the casino and sat down at his piano. He ran through a couple of quick scales to warm up. I looked around. “Are we all in position? OK, let’s get this started.”
Glottis started playing a jazzy little number while I went to open to doors. I took a step back when I saw the big crowd standing outside with Max in front. There was a well-rehearsed cheer from Max’s ‘boys’ and the crowd surged inside.
“Hey, Manny!” Max exclaimed as he ground the bones in my hand together. “I brought a few friends along. Should put you over big, huh?”
“Couldn’t hurt, Max,” I said. I turned to greet a few of my other invited guests as they came in.
Max gave me a nudge. “I got a couple of presents for ya.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Max,” I said.
He spread his hands. “I’m a big-hearted kinda guy.” He snapped his fingers and one of his entourage handed him a paper package. Max tore it open and pulled out a magnum bottle of Champagne. “Here ya go,” handing it to me. If the label was to be believed, it was the genuine article from the Land of the Living. It was a possibility. Reapers sometimes bring back more than just new souls (unmatched socks being very a popular item, as a gag). “When you get a couple a minutes we’ll drink a toast to your new enterprise. And here,” he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a little black and gold laminated card, “your very own pass to the High Rollers’ Lounge. You’re one of the in crowd now, Calavera. Don’t be a stranger.” He nearly flattened me with a hearty slap on the back and went into the restaurant.
“You OK, boss?” Lupe asked as I struggled to regain my balance.
“Sure,” I assured her. “Nothing a week in traction can’t fix.”
Things went pretty well that night. Even without Max’s gang the place would have been packed, especially the casino. If we could keep that up things were going to be all right. Of the invited guests, only Olivia and Toto were no-shows. Glottis was pretty amazing. Lola and Max started a little ‘stump the demon’ contest. No one ever did. And then there was a funny sing-along led by, I was surprised to see, the dour Membrillo. It was pretty off-color, but we were all big boys and girls. A different kind of craziness reigned in the casino. A lot of Max’s gang were huddled around the craps table bleeding from their hip pockets and downing whiskey like it was water. Now that I come to think of it, the whiskey was mostly water. Anyway, Velasco was holding court at a poker table (I gave instructions that he should come out ahead), and several well-heeled, probability-challenged souls were busy losing big at roulette. Things were looking good. Real good.