Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Oh, shit. Is she going to offer to finance a big show for me?
Is it going to be a tit-for-tat situation? Like, am I going to have to sleep with her to get it? Sleeping with this woman would hardly be a chore. I’d do it for free. But if I can get a better show out of it while also getting my rocks off…
That’d be a fucking coup.
She gestures to the couch. “Please, sit.”
I take a seat on the couch, and Rouge sits right next to me. She raises her glass. “To possibilities, Mr. Waverly.”
I clink my glass to hers. “To possibilities.”
We both take a sip. It’s a Brut, just the way I like it.
This might be the first time I’m drinking actual champagne. The rest of the time it’s been the cheap shit I get from Vons.
Rouge sets her flute down on the coffee table and turns to face me. “So tell me, Mr. Waverly. What’s your five-year plan?’
“My five-year plan?” I swallow. “To tell you the truth, Ms. Montrose, I’m just trying to get through every week.”
She frowns. “That won’t do. And please, call me Rouge.”
“Okay. You can call me Aus.”
She lifts her eyebrows at that. “An unusual nickname. Most men named Austin don’t go by that.”
“I’m not most men.”
“That much is clear.” She eyes my jaw. “It seems to me, Aus, that you’re foundering. Which is a shame to see in a man of your talents.”
I narrow my eyes. Did she just give me a backhanded compliment?
Again, rich people are often blunt. They don’t need social niceties. People will flock to them for their money alone.
I shrug. “It’s a tough business. Extremely difficult to break into.”
“Magic?” she asks.
I nod. “I’d love to get my show to the next level. I’ve got a good set of tricks.”
“Indeed you do. The house act was simply thrilling.”
“Thank you. I’m proud of that one.”
She leans in. “May I ask how it’s done?”
I smirk. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”
“We’ll see about that.” She smiles, runs her fingers over my thigh. “So tell me. How much of a profit do you make on your shows? Your audiences are rather scant.”
I breathe in. “Yeah, it’s been hard to get people in the theater. Tonight was particularly bad. I normally have at least a dozen people in the crowd. I don’t think I even had ten tonight.”
“Shame. The tourists missed a lovely show.”
“That they did.”
“And if you found yourself with a sudden influx of cash, what would you do?”
I lean back on the couch, doing my best to ignore the death grip Rouge has on my thigh. “I’d move to a bigger theater. One on the Strip. I’d hire more stagehands to make the show go smoother. I’d put more money into advertising as well.”
“All excellent ideas.”
“They are.” I hang my head. “Unfortunately I can’t afford to do any of that. I put as much money as I can into my show. If I invested anything more, I’d have to start skipping meals.”
“Have you considered loans?”
“Yeah. But I have shit credit. I made some ill-advised investments early in my career and lost a lot of money. I had to pay the minimum amount on my credit card bills for a few years. The banks didn’t love that.”
“But you’ve turned your act around?”
“I’ve tried to. I still have quite a bit of debt, but I’m managing it.”
“All while trying to get this show off the ground.” She taps at her chin. “Valiant of you.”
“Either valiant or insane.”
She grins. “Who’s to say those aren’t one and the same?” She removes her hand from my thigh, picks her champagne flute back up, and takes another sip. “I found your show very impressive, Aus. A little unpolished but impressive nonetheless. I’d like to act as an angel investor for you.”
My heart skips a beat. This could change the course of my entire career, my entire life. “Would you really?”
“Indeed.” Another sip of champagne.
“I can’t thank you enough, Rouge. My own parents didn’t even believe in me.”
She pouts her lips. “Your parents?”
I chuckle. “They wanted me to go into law. They were both lawyers. Set up rival firms after their divorce.”
“I’m sorry to hear your parents separated.”
“I barely remember it. I was only four. I had a baby sister who was stillborn. The tragedy exposed a huge riff between the two of them.”
She blinks several times. “Heavens. My condolences.”
“It was years ago. Like I said, I barely remember.”
“That’s a relief.” She places her champagne flute down and returns her hand to my thigh, squeezing gently. “I do have some…notes.”
“Notes?”
“Ways you can improve your performance.”
“I’m all ears.” I lean in, deepen my voice. “I want to do whatever I need to make this partnership between the two of us work.”
Her eyes twinkle. “Music to my ears.” She tightens her grip on my thigh. “My biggest suggestion is for the house act.”