Thankyou so much to everyone who reviews. Some of the comments have really amazed me - it really is lovely to know that people like what I write.

A brief (okay, brief-ish) word about 'four-walling': I hope I explained it okay in chapter 3. It really is a genuine thing, and over the last 20 or so years has become more and more common in Las Vegas - even more so since the recession. It's such a shame, because it makes it so much harder for good acts to get themselves an audience. It was never my intention to make it a huge obstacle in this story, just a factual thing that I wanted to include. Also, I really don't want to get too deeply into money matters like rent, wages etc. A figure is mentioned in this chapter because it came up during my meagre research, but otherwise, I'll skim past such details.

Hope you enjoy!

Myrtle


Chapter Five: Money Changes Everything

Naomi

Saturday morning found me heading as usual into the Mon Ami Gabi restaurant for breakfast. It was in the Paris hotel, and had an outdoor terrace right on The Strip. It was perfect for people watching, and did the most wonderful Eggs Benedict. Cook and I always met there on Saturday mornings for breakfast. He was already there when I arrived, and was busy shovelling a pile of pancakes into his mouth. I sat down, placed my order, and snatched gratefully at some freshly poured coffee.

"Alright, Blondie?" Asked Cook, spraying half eaten crumbs at me.

"Nice" I muttered, wiping my face. Cook just grinned back at me. "We may have a problem." I didn't really want to indulge in small-talk today. I hadn't told Cook yet about how much money we may need to get our show happening. I hadn't wanted to spoil the atmosphere of our night out, but I couldn't put off telling him any longer. If we couldn't get the money together, then we may as well face the fact that our show just wasn't a goer. "If they go ahead with our show at the hotel, it's going to be a four-wall deal." Cook frowned at me.

"Fuck. Seriously?"

As I nodded, I spotted Emily and Katie walking towards us. Cook must have texted them, asking if they wanted to meet us for breakfast. The next few minutes were spent with the twins sitting down, getting coffee, and ordering some food from the menu.

"Last night was fun" said Katie as soon as the waitress left. "We have to do that again soon." Cook enthusiastically nodded his agreement. My eyes drifted to Emily. She was rubbing her neck and looked quite uncomfortable.

"Are you okay?" I asked. She smiled at my concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine, except for spending the night trying to sleep in the bath tub." She threw a greasy look in Katie's direction on the last two words. Katie just shrugged.

"I told you I'd do the same for you, but you never pull."

At the mention of pulling, Cook's interest was heightened. He immediately asked Katie what had happened.

"I hooked up with this gorgeous guy last night. Since me and Emily share a room, what choice did I have?" She asked with another casual shrug. Emily rolled her eyes at her sister. I shot her a sympathetic look - I couldn't imagine spending the night in a bath-tub just so someone could get a shag. Besides, I had a feeling that Katie wouldn't really be happy to return the favour if she knew that Emily was only into women.

"What choice did you have?" Asked Cook, amazed. "Katie, two words for you: three some!" His eyes were shining at the thought. He was the only one – myself and the twins just looked horrified.

"Eurgh! What the fuck, Cook?" Said Katie. Cook frowned at her.

"You mean no-one's ever suggested it to the two of you?"

"Yeah, plenty have, but I bin them as soon as they say it. That's incest, which is fucking disgusting! Not to mention illegal."

"Alright! Alright!" Cook threw his hands up in surrender. "I was just saying! After the way you two were dancing together last night, I couldn't get the idea out of my head!"

Emily wrinkled her nose in disgust. Katie didn't hold back, she just punched Cook in the arm, as though she could punch the thought out of him. I found myself wondering, not for the first time, exactly what goes on inside Cook's head. Although on second thoughts, maybe I really don't want to know. I had noticed the twins dancing together in the club too – I think anyone with eyes could have appreciated the sight of it – but there had been nothing about it to suggest that they were into each other. Surely only Cook's cesspool of a mind could fill in the blanks to reach that conclusion.

"So what's this about four walling?" Asked Cook, abruptly changing the subject. He sensed that he was venturing into unwelcome territory with Katie. I took a deep breath, and began to explain. Cook knew the basics of four walling, but Emily and Katie didn't. I did my best to break it down simply for them.

"So how much money will you need?" asked Emily, getting straight to the crux of the matter. I sighed.

"Well it depends on how much they're going to charge us for the theatre, but advertising alone will cost us a fortune." I paused, stealing myself for the figures about to be discussed. "But we'd be mad to do it without… half a million behind us." Cook gave a low whistle.

"Pounds?" Asked Katie. I shook my head.

"No, dollars. But that's still going to be about three hundred thousand or so."

"When do you need it by?" Asked Katie. I shrugged.

"Well, the likes of advertising won't be needed until we're almost ready to perform the show. As for the theatre costs, I'm not sure. Probably not straight away either, but we can't sign an agreement with them, without knowing that the money's coming."

The whole table lapsed into silence as we shared a common thought: where the FUCK was that kind of money going to come from?

"It would take a long time to get that kind of money from Three Card Monte" muttered Emily.

"We could all go on the game" suggested Cook. "I mean, we've been giving it away for nowt up to now, we may as well make some money from it!" He said it with such a pretence of seriousness, that we all couldn't help but chuckle.

"If we charged about fifty thousand a time, we'd have the money in no time!" Said Emily, joining in with the joke.

"Babe, I'm worth SO much more than that!" Added Katie. We all burst out laughing, Katie included. As the laughter died down, I made a serious suggestion.

"We need a backer." Everyone nodded sagely.

"So if one of us has a wealthy uncle, looking to invest in a bunch of reprobates wanting to put on a magic show, now's the time to mention that" said Katie. I glanced across at Cook, hoping that he had some words of wisdom for us. He was staring off into space, no longer paying attention to our conversation.

"Cook?" I prompted. His eyes snapped back to meet mine.

"Don't sweat it, ladies. I'm sure something will come up" he said dismissively. I frowned at him. Cook always appeared to just go with the flow, but when it came to business he had always proactively sought out our opportunities. I wondered if he had something in mind that he didn't want to mention just yet. He winked at me, confirming my suspicion. "So what are you two ladies up to today?" He asked the twins, successfully changing the subject once more.

"Shopping!" Declared Katie with a grin. "We're gonna hit the mall today. We just haven't decided which one, yet."

"Don't look at me" I told her. "Shopping isn't really my thing."

Katie let her eyes trail down deliberately over what I was wearing, before raising them back up to meet my gaze.

"I would never have guessed" she told me in a sweet but mocking tone. "What about you two? Have you got a show again today?" I nodded.

"Yeah, we do two on a Saturday and Sunday afternoons."

"How many days do you work?" Asked Emily.

"We're dark on a Thursday" I answered. Katie and Emily stared blankly at me. "That means we don't have a show that day – but we work the other six days."

"Work hard, but party harder!" Said Cook with his usual enthusiasm. A thought suddenly occurred to me.

"How many shows have you seen since you've been here?" I asked them.

"Just one" answered Emily sheepishly.

"Ours is the only show you've seen?" I asked in wonder. The twins nodded. "So, you've been in the entertainment capital of the world for three months and seen one show?" More nodding.

"We didn't come here for sight-seeing, we came here to become stars!" Katie insisted.

"I would love to see some shows, but Katie's not interested" said Emily.

"Cook's the same" I told her. "Except he'll go see the magic shows at least." A thought suddenly occurred to me, and it was out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about it. "Well, you and me should go one night" I told Emily. "I'll call in a favour and see if I can get us some cheap tickets for something." Emily looked truly happy at the suggestion, which made me smile. She deserved to have a night out that she would enjoy. Besides, I quite liked the idea of spending time with her just the two of us.


A cacophonous braying on the door woke me up. I stared with bleary eyes at the digital display of my alarm, willing the numbers to stop spinning. It was just after seven in the morning. It was Monday morning - what the fuck could be so urgent at this hour? I slid ungainly out of bed, and headed for the door to my room. I fixed my best 'this better be good' look to my face, and threw open the door to reveal Cook. He was grinning maniacally, and was bouncing about on the balls of his feet. I wondered if he had overdosed on Red Bull again.

"Great news, Blondie!" He exclaimed as he pushed past me into the room. If he's about to tell me that he's fucked Katie, I will not be held responsible for my actions. Information like that can wait until a proper hour of the day. I slammed the door shut and turned to face him. He sat down on the desk. Cook and I were each staying in a hotel room at The Garda Resort, and although the rooms were comfortable, there wasn't much room for sitting about. Our intention had always been to rent somewhere out in the suburbs, but for now the hotel was far too convenient to think about moving. I slumped down onto the bed facing Cook.

"Well?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I've got the money" he said simply. My bad mood evaporated in a second, as his words sank in.

"What? All of it?" Cook nodded at me.

"Yep. Well, it'll take a bit of time, but it's all..."

Fuck, I knew this was too good to be true.

"Cook! What the fuck? We can't mess about over this - can you definitely get it?" Cook nodded again, solemnly.

"I wouldn't fuck about over this. There's a bit of legal red-tape to get through, but the money's mine to invest."

I frowned at him. I thought he was talking about an investor, but that's not what this sounded like.

"Is this legal?" I asked with suspicion. Cook stretched his arms out wide.

"Would I ever do anything else?" On hearing my scoff, he quickly got real. "Seriously Naomikins, It's all above board. You don't have to worry, the Cookie Monster has sorted it."

"How?" I demanded. This was too important for him to fob me off with his patter. Cook exhaled loudly.

"Remember what I told you about my mum?"

I nodded. When I first met Cook, he gave me the same sob story that I had since heard him give to other people, about how he was a penniless orphan. Then one night a couple of years ago, he told me the truth. It had been one of those nights where we slowly got drunker and drunker over a bottle of vodka, in the dive we were staying at then. By the end of the night, we were spilling some of our closely guarded secrets to each other - although I admit that I had still held some stuff back. Cook had told me about his absent father, and the wealthy, arrogant artist that was his mother. From his description, he had been given every material comfort as a child, by a mother who didn't give a flying shit about him. He acted out against her, which she didn't take too kindly to. At the age of eleven, she had packed him off to an expensive boarding school in New England. He was expelled at the age of fifteen, by which time he had no intention of going home. Cook dropped all communication with home, and began relying on his own devices to get by. It seemed highly unlikely that she would be willing to invest in an enterprise of Cook's.

"What I didn't tell you was that my mother was Ruth Byatt" said Cook plainly.

"Fuck" was the only response I could muster.

"Exactly" muttered Cook. I stared at him. Ruth Byatt was very famous, as much for her lifestyle as for her art. She lived to create a scene, and died much the same way. I remember reading about her death in the papers about eight months ago. It was in suspicious circumstances, because she had been strangled. A famous Hollywood actor had been with her at the time and was arrested, but never charged. It seemed that her death was accidental, the result of some weird sex-game gone wrong. A conclusion that absolutely delighted the media. They took immense pleasure in speculation, and retelling every last tawdry detail that they could discover. I wracked my brain trying to remember if Cook had been affected by the news when it happened, but I came up blank. I had a vague recollection of mentioning something about the story to him, but didn't recall any sign from Cook that he knew her.

"So... you inherited her money?" I asked as the pieces clicked together. Cook was on his feet and began pacing the room restlessly.

"I didn't even think about it when she died. I didn't want her fucking money, any of it, so I never bothered to find out about it."

"Until today."

"Right. I got up early so I could speak to mum's lawyers in the UK before their office closed." I nodded, suddenly understanding the need for such an early hour. There was an eight hour time difference to the UK. Cook continued. "Turns out she left it all to me - the house, the cars, the whole fucking shebang. They told me they've been trying to find me for ages – if I hadn't contacted them, it would have gone to the fucking government. There'll be some paperwork and shit to sort out, but basically I'm rich."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the bald way that Cook made that statement. I could hardly imagine treating a huge inheritance in such a cavalier fashion. Then I suddenly realised what he was offering.

"Cook, are you sure?" He opened his mouth to answer, but I cut him off. "I mean, it's a big risk, and you've suddenly found yourself owning a fortune, and the last thing you want to do is rush in to..."

"Blondie, haven't you been listening?" He asked sharply. "I didn't fucking want that slag's money until now. Until I had a real need for it - until we had a need for it. Our business is the only thing I've ever done that I'm really proud of, and I want to invest my money in it, because I believe we can do it. So don't fucking argue, just shake my hand." He offered his hand to me, and after a last moment of hesitation, I shook it. Once Cook makes up his mind about something, there is no going back. I could tell that he was sincerely in earnest about this, and had already given it all the thought he felt necessary. We could handle the details later. I was determined to ensure that Cook got a more than fair return for his investment - something that I probably cared more about than him.

After a business-like handshake, Cook scooped me up into his arms and gave me a tight hug. I hugged him back just as firmly. I felt a burst of excitement in the pit of my stomach, as I let myself believe that our dreams could yet become a reality.


The week sailed by. Every show went ridiculously smoothly, always to a packed out theatre. Having resolved the financial issues, it seemed like just a matter of time until everything else fell into place. I'm not superstitious, but it did feel as though our headline act was somehow just meant to be. So it was no surprise after the Friday afternoon show to see Mr Tomone hanging around outside the theatre. The sight of him activated a flight of butterflies in my stomach.

"Ah! Naomi, Cook!" He greeted us with a beaming smile. He offered his hand which we both shook in turn. "I just wanted to see you both in person to give you the news. We would like you both to go ahead with your magic show in the main theatre."

"Fucking yes!" Exclaimed Cook as he punched the air in triumph. "Oh, shit. Sorry about the language!" I was always on at Cook to reign in his potty mouth around the people who made the big decisions. Mr Tomone waved away Cook's concerns.

"I knew you would both be pleased! It is a great opportunity for you, I think." I nodded, feeling too overwhelmed to say much.

"Yes, yes it is!" I stammered out at last.

"We should have a meeting, next week to discuss it properly" answered Mr Tomone. We both nodded, and agreed to get a meeting fixed up as soon as possible. "Well if you'll excuse me, I have a matter to discuss with the costume department." With that, Mr Tomone wandered off into the theatre. For a second, I wondered absently if he was looking for Panda. It was certainly unusual for someone as busy as him to just 'pop down' to let us know the news in person. But all thoughts of Panda and Mr Tomone vanished as Cook grabbed hold of me. He span me around excitedly, before I eventually was able to regain my feet.

"We're gonna be headliners!" He roared. "This calls for a celebration tonight. Let's go fucking mental!"

I was more reserved than Cook in my expression of it, but my happiness at the news was every bit as acute as his. It felt amazing to know that we were going to get our big shot. This was really going to happen. Our dreams just took one big leap closer, and I was ecstatic at the thought of it.


So they have the money, and they've been told they can put on a show. Who on earth saw that coming?

Oh, everyone?

Well, let me know what you think!