The Fundamentals of the Wealthy

Mission Las Vegas

Ryan and I didn't end up planning anything. It wasn't only that I knew I couldn't pull off a Mission Impossible-type plan, but just after Ryan and I finished that conversation, Mrs. Raleigh hustled in, heels clopping madly.

“Piper! Oh, Piper, dear! I'm going to have a stroke! This is it! My blood pressure has finally caught up to me!”

I straightened my posture and leapt from my seat at the bar, “Is it Mr. Raleigh? I mean, your husband, Mr. Raleigh?”

“If I can even call him that anymore!” She wailed, pressing the back of her hand to  her forehead, “He just called in and he's gone to Los Angeles! I bet he's got a whole lot of hussies waiting over there for him! Waiting to just - oh, I don't know what to think anymore!”

“Well -”

She grabbed my shoulders tightly, and I winced at her manicured nails piercing through my sweater.

“Do you know what people call that place?? Sin City! Sin City!”

“I,” I sucked in a breath and lifted her hands off my shoulders carefully, “How are you so sure?”

Mrs. Raleigh's grasp relaxed for a moment, “I...I don't know. Maybe you're right...” Her eyes wandered somewhere besides me before they widened, and she almost fell forwards, “You can make sure for me, can't you Piper?!”

I hoped that she wasn't thinking what I thought she was thinking.

But looking at her pleading expression, I knew that there was no such hope.

She saw this, and beamed, “Great! I knew I could rely on you! I'll pay for everything, and I'll throw in bonus for going to Las Vegas and doing this.”

I'd been to Las Vegas before - when I was ten and travelled with my family. Even then, my most vivid and most horrific memory is of an elderly woman dressed scantily, dancing atop a bar in the Freemont Street dome.

But Mrs. Raleigh's bonuses were frequently triple my usual month's pay.

“Sure...I guess I could ask Mr. Raleigh for some vacation days…”

Mrs. Raleigh, bless that blond woman's heart, got the message.

“Oh, don't worry about him! I'll deal with that boy,” She waved me off then sighed, “Let's just hope you find something, why don't we? I assumed you'd agree, so I already booked the tickets, the hotel, and made a schedule of where my husband should be. You leave tomorrow.”

This woman's determination never ceases to shock me. I sometimes forgot that she had to work for her money for a large part of her life before she married Mr. Mr. Raleigh.

I nodded, and she patted my shoulders firmly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. From happiness or sadness, I could never tell with this woman. Either way, I felt a pang of sympathy.

If Mr. Mr. Raleigh would cheat on his wife, what is Mr. Raleigh like?

Mrs. Raleigh hurried off to supervise poor old Kevin with his dinner making, and my phone buzzed.

I picked up, “Mr. Raleigh?”

“Piper. I have a business trip to make. As usual, you are to be on your daily schedule without me in the office. I leave tonight.”

“Tonight? It's this urgent?”

My heart jumped. So you'll have to miss the dinner?

“Victoria is heading to Las Vegas for a modeling gig, and I know enough business sharks in the area there to assign one to each model from her company.”

My heart jumped again, but this time, it froze and fell like a ten pound boulder into the pit of my stomach.

“Las..Las Vegas?” I asked, trying to hold my voice steady over the thudding of my heart.

“That is what I said, yes.” His voice always sounded naturally impatient, something I'd grown to be accustomed to, but sometimes it still confused me.

Unlike many other people, Mr. Raleigh hated having others sort travelling plans for him.

It's inefficient, and it's messy. I would be better to just do it yourself, he told me once.

“I..was actually hoping to take some time off, Mr. Raleigh. Mrs. Raleigh has some work for me to do in another city, and I thought that I could use some of my vacation days for it.”

Static silence.

Mrs. Raleigh already told me that she would deal with Mr. Raleigh and my vacation days, but would my dear employer really bow down to his own mother? Especially when it came to his company?

Probably not.

The increasing silence between our exchanged conversation was the reason why my blood pressure was probably higher than a hydraulic press.

“...Mr. Raleigh?”

“If you must.” Came his cool, level voice, “But I expect you back in the office when I return. Email me your schedule “

And with that, he hung up.