“Into is right,” Max told him. “I’m right in there with a really smart bunch of fellows. From the old neighborhood.”
“From Akron!” Aaron was dubious.
“Akron, hell. These guys are from a real place-Brooklyn, New York!”
“You were in Brooklyn?”
“Jeez, Ary, don’t you read the papers?”
“The only papers we’ve got don’t write about Brooklyn, New York.”
“Naw! I met these fellas at home, our own home, Akron. See, you don’t even know nothing out here. The tire factory had a big strike. And these guys brought a bunch of people to work in the factories instead of those Bolsheviks, and see, they had to protect them, so they had their guys patrolling the buildings, making sure they were ok, and that the Bolshies didn’t do no damage. You should thank me, too. Molly was right there in the middle of it, but they knew that all they had to do is bother her one little bit and they’d have to deal with me!”
“Molly! My God! Are you sure she’s all right?”
“I told you. Sure she’s all right, with me taking care of her.”
“She never told me.”
“She’s pretty mad at you.” Max leaned over until he was right in his brother’s face. “Listen, Ary,” he said. “Little brother has gotten to know some people who will make you so rich, as soon as Molly hears about it she’s on the train to Nevada. So listen good.” He favored Aaron with the grin that his family-and a score of young women-found hard to resist.
“What people?” Aaron asked. “Who are they?”
“They’re businessmen. They’ve got piles of money to invest, Ary. And would you believe it? One of them took me out to lunch, and we talked about you. You’re in clover!”
“You and this businessman talked about me?”
“About your restaurant. You wait. He’s coming out here and he told me he’d be sure to get in touch. His name is Golding, Lucky Golding.”
Aaron couldn’t guess what Max was talking about, but he felthe didn’t need to take it seriously. It was just Maxie being Maxie.
Max, though, kept waiting anxiously for word from the “big businessman” from Brooklyn, New York. But in vain.
Until one evening, after about a month had gone by. Max, who was waiting tables, came running into the kitchen. He grabbed Aaron by the arm, nearly upsetting the stew his brother was stirring, and gasped “He’s here! He’s out at a table! He’s here!”
Aaron sighed, put down his spoon, untied his apron and went out into the public dining room. Going up to the man sitting alone with a highball glass and a cigar, he said, “My brother says you spoke to him in Akron.”
The man stood-he was really very small, and very slight, except for a pot belly. He put down his cigar and shook Aaron’s hand vigorously. “Golding. Lucky Golding. D’lighted to meetcha. Yeah, sure, I remember the kid. He told me what a great cook you are, and this meal sure proves it. You got a future here. You wait and see. As soon as that law goes out, there are going to be a lot more people coming here to gamble without having to worry that the state is gonna step in and take twice as much of what you win in fines. Listen, I’ll give you five to one we’ll even get soma these Mormons slipping over from Utah, pretending they’re just here to see the mountains. But you and I know different, no?
“Listen; we can’t talk business here. Come up to the Golden Gate-that’s where I’m stayin’. Gotta suite there. Little place, but wait till my hotel is done. Have dinner with me t’night?”
“My restaurant is open for dinner and I’m the only one cooking.”
“Okay, okay. Tomorrow, then. Come when you close. Close early, huh? Gotta talk.” He picked up his beer glass and drained it, and went out into the sun.
“Well, he sure means business, doesn’t he?” Max asked.
“Maybe, but not with me.”
But when the tables had been cleared and set up for the next day and the dishes washed and on the racks drying, Max begged Aaron to “at least talk to the guy, please, Ary.”
There was fear in his voice.
“What are you afraid of, little brother?” Aaron asked gently.
Max actually gulped. “He’s an important guy, Ary. He-he has ways of getting what he wants.”
Aaron sighed. “Well, let’s find out what he wants first, OK? Don’t worry, Maxele. I’ll be careful what I say.”
Aaron had never been in a hotel dining room. He was impressed by its size, by the huge vases of artificial flowers here and there around the room. He was struck to see that each table had a “tablecloth” actually made of cloth. But when the dinner was set before them, he couldn’t help comparing it to how he would have made it. He certainly wouldn’t have so disastrously overcooked the lamb shanks, for instance, nor let them swim in such a tasteless, watery sauce. There were never such lumps in his mashed potatoes, and he’d have handed in his apron before he’d serve a pie with so soggy a crust. But of course, he wasn’t there to criticize the food.
He took a big breath. “You know, Mr. Golding, when my brother came here-that is, he thought-he hoped you could find some kind of job for him. At your hotel, I mean,” he added hurriedly.
Golding nodded. “Sure, sure. The hotel ain’t finished, but when it is-sure; don’t you worry; we’ll find something for him. Always something for a smart young guy to do. Open a new hotel in a new town-there’s lots of jobs. Tell him not to worry; we’ll get to him.” All of which sounded to Aaron what it was-a put-off. Max would be lucky if he ended up a bellboy.
“Here’s the deal,” said Golding, when they had gotten to coffee and the New York man’s cigars. “I’m building this hotel here, see? You know about it; everybody knows about it. It’s going to be something-the best architects, the best designers. Costs millions. Wait and see. Knock your eyes out.”
Golding waved to a tough-looking man whom Aaron had noticed standing near the window during the whole dinner. The man left the room and returned with glasses and an unopened bottle of bootleg bourbon while Golding was still describing the wonders of his hotel. He opened the bottle and Golding poured two drinks, topped them up with water from the carafe on the table, and handed one to Aaron. Well, Aaron thought, hesure isn’t suffering under Prohibition-and later realized that Golding was not only not suffering, Prohibition was making him the millions he had for building hotels.
“Now you know,” Golding went on, after drinking half his highball in one long draught. “There’s a lot of movement in the state legislature to repeal the ban on gambling in Nevada. Hell, we’re in a Depression. The state needs money, and there ain’t a better way to get it than to open it up to tourists who come here and want to spend, spend, spend. Now listen to what I’ve planned.”
He leaned over the table. “I got the architect-and believe me, he’s the number one architect in the country-maybe the whole world. I got him to put in a whole extra floor. Maybe if somebody wants to have a convention there or a big wedding or something they can use it; it’s gonna be finished and all. But really, it’s a waiting room.” He laughed loudly. “That’s what I call it, ‘my waiting room.’ He leaned so close Aaron could feel his breath.”It’s waiting for that law to be repealed, and the next day I’ll open a casino that’ll make the Frenchies who own Monte Carlo jump into the Mediterranean ocean!”
Aaron started to speak, and Golding held up his hand.
“I know, I know. You wanna know where you come in.”
Aaron opened his mouth again, but Golding forestalled him. “Here’s where you come in, Plotkin. I want my casino opened the day that bill gets signed. I wanna get ahead of everybody else, but my hotel won’t be done yet. That restaurant of yours is just in the right place. I want to fix her up-I’ll pay you good, and I’ll pay all the expenses. I want it to be whatcha might wanna call my ‘Casino in Waiting.’ We run the games from there until the hotel is ready and then we move the whole kit and caboodle over. And you don’t have to worry,” he added. “There ain’t nobody in this town-in this state-who wants to discourage building up Las Vegas with gambling. Nobody!”