Page 26 of East

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.”