Rolling with Dice

Chapter 4

I sat in darkness for a solid minute, and just when I was beginning to panic and assume the worse – like Mr. Flores had secretly lured me alone in his office to kidnap me or possibly murder me in the obscurity – a slim, white projection screen slid down.

There was a collage of photos scattered across the screen, the majority of them were of people dressed in large black hoodies – backs turned – with colored dice all them. There was also a picture of a man in a strait-jacket laughing maniacally to himself, and a plump dark skinned woman wearing a panda fur scarf, but mostly the pictures consisted of the people wearing dice themed hoodies.

"I have a very important job for you to do, Milo." I flinched as Mr. Flores manifested out the darkness beside me.

His slightly stubbled chin just at my shoulder, his breath smelled strongly of cigarettes and mint gum.

"So I'm guessing this isn't about making me manager anymore, huh?" I said glumly. None of the odd pictures before me showed a photo of me wearing Mr. Williams' Head Manager Coat.

Mr. Flores gave me a patient look, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No Milo. I'm not making you manager," He declared with a great deal of emphasis in his words.

I pondered my head for another position.

"Can I work at the front desk?" I suggested.

"No."

I thought again. "The Club?"

"No."

"Room Service?"

"No!"

"How about you make me assistant manager?"

"OH MY GOD! WOULD FORGET ABOUT THE HOTEL FOR A SECOND?" Mr. Flores exploded.

I looked down. Then an idea occurred.

"Can I at least get rid of my bellboy hat?" I pleaded.

Mr. Flores dropped his head into the palm of his hand and groaned loudly.

Well this interview wasn't turning out the way I expected either!

"How about I explain first, and then you talk?" Mr. Flores muffled from his hand.

"But –"

"SHUT-UP!"

I was instantly quiet.

Mr. Flores rubbed the lines on his forehead before stepping beside the projection screen and picking up a slender black pointer stick from the ground. He slapped the stick on the screen and circled it around the group of people in the Dice themed hoodies.

"This ...is D.I.C.E," Mr. Flores explained, "It's an acronym for Diabolical Intellects of the Criminally Exceptional. These – these teenagers have robbed up to nearly four million dollars at each and every one of my Hotels in all of Miami and they keep coming back for more! They are the enemy. The Joker, the bad guys, are you following me so far?"

I nodded.

Mr. Flores slapped his pointer to a man in the straitjacket. "This is Jonathan Hendrix," he continued, "who I strongly believe is the creator of D.I.C.E. He used to work for me a little over a year ago as a valued member of my company: My personal assistant. He accompanied me on my meetings around the world, brought me my daily coffee, organized my schedule, and balanced my checkbook.

"He was also my best friend – but that all changed when he lost his mind. Jonathan started having these crazy ideas on promoting the Timeless Hotel business by mixing these insane concoctions late at night, and claiming that we could bring in more customers to my clubs if they all drank it ...and got addicted.