Chương 20: Las Vegas Trip VIII

December 1970 Enzo and James walked out of the lounge and into the quieter main lobby of the Silver Star Hotel. For several moments, neither of them said a word. They simply walked. Enzo occasionally reached inside his jacket, reassuring himself that the two betting tickets were still there. James noticed once again.

"I think that's the sixth time." Enzo looked at him with a completely straight face.

"And I'll probably check another six before tomorrow morning." James laughed.

"I don't blame you."

"Good."

"Because I don't intend to stop." They both laughed.

Outside, the December evening was pleasantly cool. The Strip had once again transformed into a sea of brilliant colors. Every hotel glowed beneath thousands of neon lights. Searchlights swept lazily across the night sky while streams of visitors wandered from one resort to another. For the first time since arriving in Las Vegas... Neither of them was thinking about tomorrow's football games. They already knew the outcome. Instead, their thoughts centered on what would happen the following morning. The sportsbook.

The payout. The casino check.

Enzo broke the silence.

"I've been thinking." James looked toward him.

"I know you'll repay my two thousand dollars."

"I will."

"I've never doubted that." He smiled.

"But that's not what I was thinking about."

"What then?" Enzo looked ahead as they continued walking.

"Tomorrow..."

"When they hand me that cashier's check..."

"It'll be made out in my legal name." James nodded.

"That's normal."

"Once we return to New York..."

"I'll deposit it into my personal account at Empire National Bank." James nodded again.

"Yes." Enzo glanced down at him.

"But I want us to be perfectly clear." James listened carefully.

"Those funds are yours."

"You earned them."

"I'm simply holding them until you're old enough to manage them yourself." James smiled warmly.

"I know."

"I trust you." Enzo stopped walking for a moment. He placed one hand gently on James's shoulder.

"And I trust you." His voice carried a sincerity that James had rarely heard before.

"I don't know how you've managed to accomplish everything you have these past two months."

"I honestly can't explain it."

"But you've never once acted out of selfishness."

"You've thought about Thompson Manufacturing."

"Our employees."

"Our future."

"And now..." He gave a small laugh.

"... you've somehow managed to beat one of the biggest sportsbooks in Nevada." James smiled.

"We're not there yet." Enzo laughed.

"No..."

"But I have a feeling tomorrow will be a very good day."

They decided to celebrate with dinner at one of the hotel's finest restaurants. Unlike the cozy Italian restaurant from earlier in the week, this establishment specialized in prime steaks and seafood. A pianist performed softly near the dining room entrance while waiters moved gracefully between tables. After being seated, Enzo closed the menu almost immediately.

"I'm celebrating." James grinned.

"I noticed."

"I don't celebrate halfway." James laughed.

"I'll have the steak." The waiter smiled politely before taking their order.

"And for the young gentleman?" James glanced over the menu.

"I'll have the roast chicken."

"Excellent choices."

Dinner lasted nearly two hours. For once... Neither business nor football dominated the conversation. Instead, Enzo shared stories James had heard only fragments of during his childhood. He spoke about arriving in New York in 1940 with little more than a suitcase and a few dollars. About meeting Claire at Thompson Manufacturing. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

About the long hours, they had worked together trying to save the struggling factory during the early years. He smiled as he remembered Joseph as a little boy running through the factory offices despite repeated instructions not to. James listened quietly. Some stories he remembered. Others were completely new. He realized that in his previous life... He had never asked enough questions. He had assumed there would always be another opportunity. There hadn't been. This time... He intended to remember every story.

After dessert, they left the restaurant and walked slowly back toward the hotel. The Strip remained as lively as ever. Music drifted through the evening air. Tourists laughed as they posed for photographs beneath the enormous hotel signs. Taxi cabs came and went without pause. Las Vegas seemed incapable of sleeping. As they entered the hotel lobby, Enzo looked at the large grandfather clock near the reception desk.

"A little after ten." He smiled.

"We should get some rest." James nodded.

"We've got an important morning ahead."

"I suppose we do." They stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, Enzo instinctively touched the inside pocket of his jacket once more. James shook his head, trying not to laugh.

"I'm not saying anything." Enzo smiled.

"That's probably for the best."

Back inside Room 814, Enzo carefully removed his jacket. Instead of hanging it in the wardrobe as he usually did... He opened the hotel safely. With extraordinary care, he placed the two betting tickets inside. Only after locking the safe and checking it twice did he finally relax.

"There." James smiled.

"You'll sleep better now."

"I certainly will." He climbed into bed before turning off the bedside lamp.

"Tomorrow morning..."

"We become forty-eight thousand dollars richer." James looked toward the darkened ceiling.

"Tomorrow morning..."

"I repay your two-thousand-dollar loan." Enzo chuckled softly.

"And after that..."

"We'll have a very interesting trip to Empire National Bank once we're back in New York." James smiled.

"Yes."

"We will." Outside the window, the neon lights of Las Vegas continued to dance across the ceiling. For the first time since arriving in Nevada... James allowed himself to think beyond the wager. The money had never been the true objective. It was simply the foundation. The first real pool of private capital would allow him to seize the opportunities the future still held. Tomorrow... The foundation would finally be laid. ☆☆☆☆☆☆ December 28, 1970 James awoke a few minutes before seven.

For the first time since arriving in Las Vegas, he felt no anticipation. Only certainty. The games had ended. The predictions had all come true. The only thing left was to exchange two ordinary pieces of paper for a cashier's check. Across the room, Enzo was already awake. He had showered, shaved, and dressed in his usual charcoal-gray suit. His polished black shoes reflected the morning light coming through the window. James smiled.

"You look like you're heading to a board meeting." Enzo adjusted his tie.

"In a way..."

"I am." James laughed.

"I suppose you are."

After getting ready, they headed downstairs for breakfast. Unlike the previous mornings, football wasn't the main topic of conversation throughout the dining room. The weekend had ended. Guests were discussing flights home, business meetings, and New Year's plans. Enzo remained surprisingly quiet. James noticed.

"Nervous again?" Enzo smiled.

"A little."

"You already know we won."

"I do."

"But until they hand me that check..."

"It still doesn't feel real." James understood. For him, the outcome had been inevitable. For Enzo... It still bordered on the impossible.

Once breakfast was over, they left the Silver Star Hotel and walked back toward the Stardawn Sportsbook. The morning air was crisp but comfortable. The strip was quieter than usual, with most visitors either checking out of their hotels or beginning another day of sightseeing. Neither James nor Enzo spoke very much during the walk. There wasn't much left to say. Everything now depends on a routine administrative process.

The familiar sportsbook came into view. It looked almost identical to how it had five days earlier. Rows of betting counters stretched across the room. Large chalkboards displayed results from the completed playoff games. Employees prepared for another day of accepting wagers. The smell of fresh coffee mixed with cigarette smoke filled the air. Enzo instinctively touched the inside pocket of his jacket. James smiled.

"They're still there."

"I know."

"I just wanted to make sure."

They approached the payout counter. The same ticket writer from several days earlier happened to be working that morning. He looked up with a polite smile.

"Good morning, sir."

"What can I do for you today?" Enzo reached into his jacket and carefully placed the two betting tickets on the polished wooden counter.

"I believe these are winners." The employee picked them up casually. His expression remained neutral as he glanced over the transaction numbers. Then, he reached behind the counter and retrieved a thick binder containing the official results from the weekend's games. He opened it. One by one... He compared each selection printed on the tickets against the league's officially recorded scores. Dallas. Correct. Baltimore. Correct. Oakland. Correct. San Francisco. Correct.

He continued checking the totals for each game. His eyebrows slowly rose. When he reached the bottom of the second ticket, he looked back at Enzo.

"Just a moment, sir." He stood from his chair and disappeared through a door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. A minute later, another man emerged. He appeared to be in his late fifties, wearing a dark suit with a silver name badge identifying him as the sportsbook manager. He greeted Enzo with a courteous handshake.

"Good morning, sir."

"I'm Robert Callahan, sportsbook manager."

"I understand you've had an exceptional weekend." Enzo smiled modestly.

"It would appear so." Mr. Callahan examined both tickets personally before comparing them against the duplicate carbon copies kept in the sportsbook's transaction files. Every serial number matched perfectly. The dates. The wager amounts. The selections. Everything was in order. He closed the file and smiled.

"Congratulations, Mr. Lombardi."

"Both tickets are valid."

"Your combined payout is forty-eight thousand dollars." Even though he had expected those exact words... Hearing them spoken aloud still sent a quiet thrill through Enzo. He glanced toward James. James simply smiled back.

Mr. Callahan gestured toward a nearby office.

"If you would please come with me." Inside the office stood a large wooden desk and several filing cabinets. Another employee opened a heavy ledger book. Mr. Callahan sat behind the desk.

"For payouts of this size, we ask every customer to sign our official payout register confirming receipt." Enzo nodded.

"Of course." The employee turned the ledger toward him. Using a fountain pen provided by the sportsbook, Enzo carefully signed his full legal name. Enzo Lombardi. Once finished, Mr. Callahan smiled again.

"Now..."

"How would you like to receive your winnings?" He opened a folder.

"You have two options."

"The first is payment entirely in cash."

"The second is a cashier's check issued by our banking institution." Enzo didn't even need to think.

"We'll take the cashier's check."

"A wise decision." Mr. Callahan nodded approvingly.

"It is considerably safer when traveling." He completed several handwritten forms before another employee disappeared into the accounting office. Several minutes later, the employee returned carrying an official cashier's check. Mr. Callahan inspected it one final time before sliding it across the polished desk. Enzo picked it up carefully. The amount written across the center immediately caught his attention. Pay to the Order of: Enzo Lombardi Forty-Eight Thousand Dollars and 00/100. For a brief moment...

Neither grandfather nor grandson spoke. It was only a piece of paper. Yet it represented one of the first successful steps in changing the future. ☆☆☆☆☆☆ Enzo continued staring at the cashier's check for several long seconds. The crisp paper felt surprisingly ordinary in his hands. If someone had walked into the office at that moment, they would have seen nothing more than a middle-aged businessman holding a bank check.

No one would have guessed that, only five days earlier, it had all begun with two folded parlay cards and the confidence of a ten-year-old boy. Enzo finally let out a slow breath.

"I don't think this has sunk in yet." James smiled.

"It will."

"When we get back to New York?" James shook his head.

"No."

"When the funds finally clear at Empire National Bank." Enzo laughed.

"You're probably right."

Robert Callahan smiled as he watched the exchange.

"I've worked in sportsbooks for over twenty years." He leaned back slightly in his chair.

"I've seen plenty of large winners."

"But I rarely see someone as calm as you, Mr. Lombardi." Enzo glanced at James before looking back at the manager.

"I have an excellent advisor." Callahan followed his gaze toward the young boy. He smiled politely.

"So this young man picked the games?" James returned the smile without saying anything. Enzo answered instead.

"He certainly had strong opinions." Callahan chuckled.

"Well..."

"I hope he keeps having them." He stood and extended his hand once more.

"Congratulations again."

"And thank you for choosing Stardawn Sportsbook."

"It was our pleasure." Enzo shook his hand firmly.

They left the manager's office and walked back through the main betting hall. The sportsbook looked exactly as it had earlier that morning. Bettors were already filling out new parlay cards. Ticket writers accepted fresh wagers. Large chalkboards displayed the odds for upcoming sporting events. Life at Stardawn Sportsbook had already moved on to the next game. Only Enzo knew that his own business there had come to a remarkably successful conclusion.

As they reached the entrance, he instinctively looked down at the cashier's check once again before carefully placing it inside a large document envelope provided by the sportsbook. Then he slipped the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. James laughed softly.

"Back in the jacket." Enzo grinned.

"I think this pocket has become my favorite place in Nevada."

Outside, the Nevada sun shone brightly over the Strip. For the first time since arriving in Las Vegas, they had no schedule to follow. Their flight back to New York wasn't until later that afternoon. They had several hours left to enjoy the city.

"So..." Enzo said as they started walking.

"What would you like to do before we head to the airport?" James looked around at the bustling boulevard.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I'd just like to walk."

"No plans?" James shook his head.

"We've accomplished what we came here to do."

"Everything else is just enjoying the day." Enzo smiled.

"I like that."

"So do I."

They spent the remainder of the morning strolling along the Strip at a leisurely pace. Without the weight of uncertainty hanging over them, the city somehow felt different. More relaxed. They stopped to watch the famous dancing fountains outside one of the larger resorts, browsed through several souvenir shops, and even shared a large vanilla ice cream despite it being December. As they sat on a bench enjoying the sunshine, Enzo suddenly laughed. James looked over.

"What?"

"I've just realized something."

"What is it?"

"I lost our little wager." James smiled knowingly.

"You did." Enzo shook his head with a grin.

"I really thought you'd ask for a toy."

"Or a bicycle."

"Instead..." He lightly tapped the inside of his jacket where the envelope rested.

"... you've managed to build yourself an investment fund." James chuckled.

"I told you I was thinking long-term."

"You certainly were." Enzo looked at him thoughtfully.

"You know..."

"When we get home, we'll repay my two-thousand-dollar loan first." James nodded.

"Of course."

"The remaining forty-six thousand dollars..." He paused.

"... is yours."

"It'll stay in my personal account until you're old enough to manage it yourself." James smiled.

"That's exactly what I want." Enzo nodded.

"And after taxes..."

"We'll know exactly how much capital you're starting with." James already knew the answer. Roughly twenty-eight thousand dollars. It wasn't a fortune. Not compared to what he intended to build. But every great business started with a first investment. This was his. ☆☆☆☆☆ The afternoon passed quietly. Without the pressure of waiting for football results or the excitement of collecting the winnings, Las Vegas became simply another city to enjoy.

They wandered through several hotels they had not yet visited, admiring the extravagant lobbies and Christmas decorations that would soon be taken down after the holidays. Enzo stopped occasionally to admire the engineering behind some of the larger buildings.

"Quite impressive." James nodded.

"It is."

"What surprises me," Enzo continued, "is how quickly this city keeps growing." James smiled faintly.

"It won't stop." Enzo glanced at him.

"You really think so?"

"I do." His answer was simple, but he knew just how accurate it was.

Around one o'clock, they stopped for an early lunch at a small restaurant overlooking the Strip. It wasn't nearly as elegant as the hotel restaurant from the night before, but neither of them minded. Sometimes a simple meal was enough. As they ate, Enzo carefully removed the document envelope from his jacket and placed it on the table between them. He rested one hand on it almost instinctively. James couldn't help but smile.

"I don't think you're letting that leave your sight."

"I'm not." Enzo laughed.

"If someone steals my wallet, I can replace it."

"If someone steals this..." He gently tapped the envelope.

"... I'd never forgive myself." James nodded in agreement.

"I wouldn't either."

After lunch, they returned to the Silver Star Hotel to collect their luggage. The bellhop brought their suitcases down from Room 814 while Enzo completed the checkout formalities at the reception desk. The receptionist smiled warmly.

"I hope you enjoyed your stay, Mr. Lombardi."

"We certainly did."

"We hope to welcome you back someday." Enzo looked toward James before answering.

"I have a feeling we will." James smiled but remained silent. He had every intention of returning to Las Vegas. Just not for quite some time.

A taxi soon arrived at the hotel's entrance. The driver loaded their luggage into the trunk before opening the rear door for them.

"Airport?" Enzo nodded.

"McCarran Airfield."

"Yes, sir." The taxi pulled away from the curb, merging smoothly into the afternoon traffic. James watched the Strip slowly disappear through the rear window. Five days earlier, they had arrived with four thousand dollars in cash and a plan that sounded almost unbelievable. Now they were leaving with a cashier's check worth forty-eight thousand dollars tucked safely inside Enzo's jacket. His Private Capital Plan... Phase One... Had succeeded perfectly.

The airport was busy with travelers returning home after Christmas. Families carrying wrapped presents hurried toward departure gates. Businessmen waited patiently with briefcases in hand. Children watched airplanes through the large terminal windows with wide-eyed fascination. Enzo checked in their luggage before they made their way through the departure area. While waiting to board, he looked toward James.

"I've been thinking about tomorrow." James raised an eyebrow.

"Tomorrow?"

"Well..." Enzo smiled.

"Technically the day after."

"We'll be back in New York."

"You'll want to go to Empire National Bank." James nodded.

"I do."

"The check should be deposited as soon as possible."

"Exactly." Enzo folded his arms.

"I imagine Mr. Whitmore will be rather surprised." James laughed softly.

"I think 'surprised' is putting it mildly."

"A forty-eight-thousand-dollar cashier's check from Nevada isn't something he sees every day."

"No..." Enzo agreed.

"It probably isn't."

Before long, boarding was announced. Passengers slowly formed a line leading toward the aircraft waiting on the tarmac. James paused for a brief moment before stepping through the boarding gate. He turned one last time toward the terminal windows. Beyond them lay Las Vegas. The city where his first investment had been born. The city where he had transformed two thousand dollars of childhood savings into the foundation of his future. He smiled quietly.

"I'll be back someday." Then, without another glance behind him, he followed Enzo onto the aircraft. Several hours later... The bright lights of Nevada disappeared beneath the clouds as the airliner turned east toward New York. Home awaited them. Along with Thompson Manufacturing... Empire National Bank... And the next chapter of James Lombardi's carefully planned future. ☆☆☆☆☆