Page 1 of Mechanic

Chapter 1

Roderick

Heaving a sigh of relief as I scrawl my signature on the last of the legal paperwork, my mind tunes out the lawyers as they babble incessantly. All of the legal jargon goes right over my head.

The Casino Royalle—or what it used to be known as—is now mine.

Building the casino on the edge of a small mountain town in New York State was a smart plan. However, the contractors didn’t factor in the lack of labor force and other obstacles, like the weather. Bad planning resulted in construction delays, which snowballed, causing the project to be horribly over budget.

The parent company was left with limited choices. It was either sell it off as is or finish and face bankruptcy.

That’s not to say it was inexpensive to purchase. It was a minor hit tomybottom line, selling under market value.

An elbow to the ribs pulls my attention back to the room. Glaring at my best friend turned business partner, his eyes shift back and forth to the people staring expectantly at me.

“Sorry, gentlemen, bad case of jet lag. What were you saying?” I say, faking a yawn.

Aymond starts to chuckle at my white lie, covering it up with a cough. Surreptitiously using my middle finger to scratch my cheek, he starts coughing in earnest now, choking on his own spit. Serves the cocky asshole right. How would any of these people know that I have been in town for almost a week?

Staying in a small hotel one town over makes it evident that this casino is doomed to fail unless a hotel is built close by.

My list of projects and concerns for the business and my personal life seem to be increasing almost daily.

The lawyers disregard Aymond’s and my shenanigans and take my claim at face value.

Our other best friend and third Musketeer in our group speaks up, knowing that my patience has run its course.

“Gentlemen, I don’t think that we need to detain Mr. Sereno or Mr. Burnett any longer,” Brody pauses, looking at Aymond and me with an eyebrow raised.

That is all the incentive I need before jumping to my feet and attempting not to appear too eager.

“Good day, gentlemen,” I say patiently as we all shake hands.

Patting Brody on the shoulder before stepping out of the conference room, I head toward the elevator. Without looking, I know that Aymond is right behind me.

Upon exiting the building, my lungs fill with the crisp, biting winter air in New York. The vast change from the over-heated air inside the building causes me to cough.

“Serves your right,” Aymond states smugly before pounding on my back a bit too harshly.

We say nothing as we head toward the car. Brody will catch up with us when he finishes.

Starting the car, Aymond gives the motor a few moments to warm up before putting the car in gear and driving us to the casino.

Pulling up to the construction site several minutes later, we stare at the building’s shell. Equipment is scattered through the mud that will eventually become a parking lot. A small trailer, serving as the project hub, is tucked in a far corner.

Exiting the car, I rub my hands together, cupping them and holding them to my mouth. Blowing warm breath into my palms does nothing against the bitter cold. Purchasing a pair of gloves definitely needs to be added to my list.

“How are you not cold?” I bite out, my breath visibly streaming out in front of me.

“What do you think?” Aymond asks, ignoring my question and focusing on the shell of a building looming before us.

Rubbing my hand over my chin, my eyes roam over the large structure.

“We need a meeting with the architect,” I state flatly.

His brow quirks, causing my lips to tip up on one side. Answering his non-verbal question, I tuck my hands into my coat pockets.

“In order to keep this project on track, I can’t keep traveling several towns over. This brings forward the fact that this town has no hotel,” my voice is flat but not quite monotone. “If we expect to make a profit, we need people to walk through the doors. That means travel. If they have no place to stay…”

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