Jackpot

70

Dale Gai was surprised that Arrow hadn’t noticed his regular pilot had been replaced by a government agent, though on reflection it shouldn’t have shocked her. A man like Arrow Donaldson barely noticed the underlings who propped up his entire life. She shook the pilot’s hand and thanked him with a thick envelope of cash and headed to the car she’d arranged to take her to the Bank of the Philippines.

The interior of the bland concrete building was awash in the bright red and blue color scheme of the bank’s logo, and Dale found herself a bit disoriented. She managed to find her way to the concierge banking area, which was plush and more subdued. Within minutes, a tall woman with quick speed and graceful posture joined her and escorted Dale to a cavernous office that seemed more like a rainforest-themed gift shop than a bank. They exchanged small talk while the woman typed, and finally, she wrote down a number in loopy, elegant script on creamy stationery and handed it to Dale. The amount was the balance in her accounts, just under a billion dollars. Dale wrote her own numbers down in a less elegant scrawl and handed the paper back. The numbers were a series of offshore accounts to which most of the money would be disbursed. The last was the amount Dale was requesting to withdraw in cash.

“Would you like some water or coffee while we get that prepared for you?”

Dale declined. Thirty minutes later the woman returned with a leather briefcase, which she handed over to Dale.

Briefcase in hand, Dale hailed a taxi and headed out to Manila Bay and a casino that looked like a giant glowing egg, where a suite was waiting for her. The next morning she had a meeting scheduled with the twenty-second richest person in the Philippines, who owned most of the McDonald’s restaurants in the country, along with a small resort collection he was looking to expand that included properties in Singapore, the Philippines, and the Catskills in New York. She wasn’t exactly sure what kind of role she was ready to play in his operation, but she was keeping all of her options open. Tonight, though, she would relax. First, she called a man in Macau to catch up.

When Teddy finally made it back to L.A. without further trouble, he slept for the better part of three straight days. Millie Martindale had left a message inquiring about a threat assessment into her job and what sort of catastrophic injuries were common in her line of work that would result in her being pushed out. She also mentioned that she’d passed the information Li Feng gave her on to associates in other countries where Arrow would be facing additional charges.

“If he ever gets out of jail in the U.S., he’s going to be passed around the world like a rotten oyster.”

Teddy was having pancakes in Los Angeles when Dale Gai called. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to answer. She’d left without saying goodbye, leaving him to clean up the various messes they’d been dealing with in Macau. He figured he’d misread some signals, and that in truth she wanted nothing other than a professional relationship. Then he remembered the electricity in the car ride and the touching of skin, and he answered the call.

“It turns out I came into some money and don’t have anyone to help me spend it,” she said.

“Is that money the reason you left without saying goodbye?”

“Oh my, you’re not that type, are you? Neither of us ever believed this was going to be Casablanca with a big weepy ending.”

“I’ve never been a big fan of Casablanca,” Teddy said.

“Me neither. That’s why we got along so well and why I think you should come visit me.”

“And where would that be exactly?”

“Why should we start making it easy for the other to find out anything about us now?”

“Aside from looking for someone to help you spend that money, have you considered possible investment opportunities?”

“Do you have a pyramid scheme you’d like me to get in on?”

“Something even less stable than a pyramid scheme: the movies.”

“You’re really sticking to that movie producer bit?” Dale asked.

“It’s not a bit, it’s who I am,” Teddy said. “It might be the truest version of myself.”

“In that case, I have actually thought about it.”

“What would make you do it?”

“The right partner,” she said. “And the right story.”

“I’ve got plenty of stories,” Teddy said.

“When you’re ready to be the right partner you can come and find me... Teddy Fay.”

Before he could respond, the phone call was already disconnected. When he called the number back, a robotic voice told him the number did not exist.

When he was done with his pancakes, Teddy headed over to his office at Centurion Studios. He stopped along the way to pick up several bags of burgers and fries and American beer. He’d been away from home too long and was feeling patriotic. And hungry. When he arrived at the office, Peter, Ben, Stone, and Dino were chatting in the boardroom.

Teddy dropped the bags of food and the beer into the middle of the table and took a seat next to Stone.

The TV in the background was turned to CNN, which was showing the video of Teddy jumping from Macau Tower.

“You’re a natural at that,” Stone said. “You should be a stuntman instead of a producer.”

They all laughed.