The Night of Seven by Nadia Siddiqui (each kindness read aloud .TXT) 📗

efficient process. He has them in the dressing rooms and under the bar. Even just installing them made him feel like he was stepping onto the set of some spy movie. Maximo loves those adventure and spy movies. He loves them almost as much as he loves old Mafia movies. He loves the aesthetics of them; he loves the way that they talk, and he loves the way that they are such a closely bonded family. Maximo grew up in a run-down shack with a crackhead for a mother who tried, on more than one occasion, to sell him for drug money. It certainly isn’t something that he is proud of, but he is rather proud of the man that he has built himself to be. Loud, flamboyant suits and all.

“And I trust that you have taken care of the issue, Cruz?” Maximo says with a flair, a sinister glint in his eyes. Cruz’s expression doesn’t change, but he nods that yes, the issue has been taken care of. “This is why I spend all of this money, to make sure that all of the games are fair. That everybody is here for a good time.” Maximo says, “now, of course, the house takes a little off the top here and there, but the house always wins. It’s a good saying for a reason, don’t you agree, Cruz?”

Cruz doesn’t move; he simply watches.

“See, I knew that you would agree with me. That’s why we have such a nice little family unit here. That’s why we all work so very well together. Don’t you think? Well, I guess that doesn’t matter; none of you are even here to think; you are just here to do my bidding.” Maximo chuckles mirthlessly, waving his hand as if attempting to convince the others in the room that he’s joking. He moves to the security panel and starts pressing buttons, attempting to get the screens to do something. The security man flinches and attempts to stop Maximo and then thinks better of it; it’s obvious that he’s not wanting to cause trouble and is going to be in for an hour or so of coding to fix whatever nonsense that Maximo just did to the cameras in an effort to make himself feel important. So long as the “Boss” is happy, that’s all that really matters, and they all know it.

“Very good, very good. Come with me, Cruz,” Maximo looks at the screens as if confirming something that none of the rest of them could possibly see. It’s all a show to make him appear smart, even if it’s only himself that he’s convincing. Even his employees don’t know how he could possibly be running a casino all on his own. Most of his staff just assume he’s insanely wealthy from some old family money of some sort.

Maximo doesn’t wait or look behind him to be sure that Cruz is following as he starts to saunter down the hallway, muttering to himself until Cruz is heard behind him, those large, heavy footsteps somehow very controlled and rhythmic. “I also wanted to make sure that you have everything in order for our special guests tonight, Cruz. I know that I have laid out very specific instructions, but it’s of the top, priority, utmost importance that absolutely nothing can go wrong. I simply cannot stress that enough. The ‘package’ needs to be in place at the exact right moment.” Maximo speaks with his hands, placing air quotes around his emphasized words. “Then, our guests will arrive and take the package to where it needs to go. Or else. You really don’t want to know what the or else is Cruz, I can promise you that. I know what it is, and I wish I didn’t. Tell me that everything is in order.”

Cruz says nothing; he only nods.

Maximo looks visibly relieved. He sighs. “Such a shame that the package has to be so pretty, and go into such a horrible place, don’t you think? You don’t find dames with legs like that, that can kick quite that high just every day. I’m so worried that my show is just never going to be the same. Not that anybody ever thinks about me or how I’m going to feel about these sorts of things. This is my casino, after all; they should take that into consideration at the very least, but here we are.” Maximo stops just outside of the door to his personal office. “I’m going to pop in for a snacky snack,” Maximo explains, rubbing his thumb under his nose in clear innuendo to what sort of ‘snack’ he means, and Cruz says nothing. “Come and get me the moment that the package arrives.”

Cruz nods. “You got it, Boss.”

“Boss,” Maximo repeats with a happy chuff, and ducks inside of his office.

Chapter Five

S awyer

“Honey! Have you seen my tie? I should have left for the airport about thirty minutes ago! You know how I like to get through security with time for a bagel!” Sawyer has always been a very punctual man. He’s not the brightest, the most handsome, or really the best at anything at all, but he is very punctual. In almost every way, Sawyer is a very average man. He’s not tall, but he’s not short. He’s not skinny, but he’s not fat. He isn’t really much of anything. He has a very average life, an average-looking wife to live inside of his average looking house. Though recently, he’s been given a string of luck that is proving to be anything other than average. In fact, he doesn’t think that he’s ever been this lucky in his life.

Sawyer was laid off from his job at the plant about nine months ago. Since then his family has been really struggling to get by. They only have one young son, but that is a mouth that they will not forgo feeding. His wife