*** FOR RENT ***

Impressive view from this luxurious home just off the Las Vegas Strip. Kitchen features new formica countertops and linoleum flooring, breakfast nook, fireplace, and an attic loft area. Gas fireplace in the master bedroom with a separate seating area and balcony that overlooks the lights of Las Vegas. Call 555-1212 to arrange a viewing. Hurry, this beauty won't last!  

***

Hamilton glanced up from the add in the newspaper, which was illuminated by the light of the morning. He leaned against the entrance way of the condominium in question and folded the paper before slipping it in his back pocket. The newspaper was the key, really. He'd made a few contacts who worked for the Las Vegas Review Journal and, once properly compensated, they'd allowed him to sneak in and print a small paper of his own. It was a lark, really, but he enjoyed it. But those contacts had also provided him with some invaluable information for his first real "job" in Vegas.

Who knows when someone will be out of town for a while? The newspaper, because everyone calls to stop the papers from being delivered. This particular couple were on some sort of trip to Europe. While they were gone, Hamilton planned on renting out their place- as many times as possible. Smiling, he saw Ariadne, looking like a million bucks, step out of a car and head towards him. Their money was almost gone, invested in their current clothes that allowed them to blend in with high society, the bribes to the newspaper, the bribes to the locksmith... Hamilton barely had two dollars to rub together. But if they played this right, they'd be able to pull a lot of money- and start up a real real estate business.

They weren't going to use the name of their future company publicly yet, since they didn't want to connect any heat to it. But he mulled it over in his brain. "Raconteur Properties". It was musical.

He focused as Ariadne approached from one side and a young businessman in a suit stepped out of a car nearby as well. First fish on the line.

Hamilton beamed at Ariadne as he politely shook her hand.

"Mrs. Foster! Evangeline, yes? So nice to see you again. I'm sorry the last offer didn't work out for you but, let me tell you, this place... this place is special. I have a good feeling about this one for you and that husband of yours!"

Turning, he shook the hand of the man approaching from the other side.

"Mr. Jackson, yes? John Jefferson, Liberty Real Estate, we spoke on the phone, I believe. We're waiting for a few more people and then we'll begin our tour. Normally, I'd take the time to show everyone around individually, but, well..."

Hamilton leaned in, dropping his voice.

"There's already an offer and my boss wants this place moved within a few days. Keep that between us, huh?"

He straightened up as a young couple exited a cab.

"Ah! Walter Perry! Mrs. Perry! So good to finally put some faces to the names!"

He allowed a quick look to pass between himself and Ariadne. There should be a few more coming. With his natural skill as a salesman and Ariadne working as his plant, they'd hopefully collect several offers.

Ariadne shook Alexander's hand and nodded politely to the small group that had gathered. Besides Jackson and the Perrys, two other couples had arrived. The Martinez couple were UCLA archeologists, or anthropologists, something starting with an "A", Ariadne couldn't remember and didn't care. The other couple, the Smiths, were expecting a baby, and Mr. Smith himself managed one of the casino restaurants in town. As the group followed Hamilton through the condo, oohing and ahhing at the updated kitchen and baths and swooning over the view, Ariadne made her move. All she had to do was run up the price. Taking Hamilton by the elbow, she pulls him aside, but they are both entirely within earshot of the group. "Mr. Jefferson. I'll be quite honest. My husband has given me carte blanche in choosing where we'll be staying over the next few months. I've looked at several properties and, well, there just isn't anything out there right now that appeals to me like this place does. I need to make a decision, today. Name your price?" Hearing this, two of the three other couples start frantically whispering to one another while the lone gentleman, Jackson, furrows his brow and starts to sidle a bit closer.  

John Jefferson, young, bright, honest real estate agent, was exceedingly nervous. 

"Mrs. Foster, this is exceedingly unprofessional and I shouldn't..."

The young man practically wilted as she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead and he dabbed at it with a light blue hankerchief. His voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible to the suddenly silent crowd.

"It's... five figures. Easily. The bid we already have is 12 and a half per month. We're going to-"

Jefferson straightened like he'd been electrocuted, suddenly seeming to notice everyone.

"Oh- uh- gather 'round, please everyone! Please gather here. Thank for you the question, Mrs. Foster, and YES the attic could potentially be converted...

He clears his throat.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming today and we hope you've liked what you've seen here at this marvelous property. My senior partner Mr. Stewart has instructed me that in the next 72 hours we'll be accepting the best offer we receive based on a blind bidding system. So please consider what you think is fair, see me with any questions, and call me to verbally confirm the amount of your offer. If you are selected, then I will meet you with the paperwork: at which point I'll need a cashier's check for first and last month's rent. If anyone fails to promptly make this payment for our agreed meeting time then the offer is considered void and we will default to the second highest bid. If you have any questions at all, please don't hesitate to call my office."

Jefferson smiled as the prospective buyers exited to the sidewalk. Ariadne was in the middle of them, striking up a conversation about some feature or other that had impressed her. 

Shaking his head and blinking, Hamilton stopped slouching and his wolfish grin returned. He stalked up the stairs, shrugged off his jacket, undid his tie, and tossed them both on the empty dresser. He took a deep breath as he lay back on the bed where he and Ariadne had been staying the last few nights. Two bids would definitely get them into the real estate business. One might pull it off, if it was high enough. Three would be a friggin' goldmine.

Knowing that Ariadne would be careful not to raise suspicions by darting back inside too fast, Hamilton closed his eyes and slept, knowing she'd wake him up whenever she returned. 

Not wanting to waste cab fare, Ariadne lingers, taking part in a lively conversation with the Martinez couple, who are the last to depart. As their cab arrives, they offer to share, but she politely declines, saying that she's already scheduled one and that it would be along any minute. She then studies the cactus bed in front, attempting to look the part of one who's already made up her mind about the lease. They glance at each other and then back at Ariadne before the cab pulls away. Ariadne waves confidently. Once they're around the corner and out of sight, she counts to ten and dashes back inside, kicking off her heels as she blows into the bedroom and leaps atop Hamilton's snoozing form. He looks angry for a minute, but her excitement is infective. "FIFTEEN, Alex!! I told them I'd go to fifteen, and I think they're going to raise! They get a stipend or some such shit, both of them together, from the university!" she says, out of breath and flushed. Never in her life had she even SEEN fifteen thousand dollars. This would be her first big score, if it worked. She was drunk with the thought of it, and the restaurant it could buy. "The best dishes, made by the best chefs. We're going to eat in style every day!" Her lopsided grin is back, only slightly marred by a small scar on her lip which she tries, and fails, to hide with lipstick. You can't keep lipstick in place when your mouth is constantly on something. Or someone.

Hamilton groaned slightly as Ariadne landed on him. She was straddling him, practically shaking him by the shirt collar. He raised his hands up in surrender, then stretched before resting them behind his head. 

"I know. They seem like decent bets. Jackson seems pretty loaded. Not sure about Mr. and Mrs. Perry- seemed like it was a bit too rich for them. Smiths are maybes as well. If any of them balk about the first and last month's rent thing I'll let them sign the papers with just the one month's deposit. Worst case scenario, if everyone offers around fifteen... well, I guess fifteen would be worst case. Best case I'd say is three offers, which if they both put down two months rent... how's ninety sound?"

He chuckled to himself.

"We'd have to lie low for a little while, I think, if we're in the 50-90 range. That's big enough where the feds might get involved. Maybe skip town for a bit until the heat dies down. I used to pull this in New York, but those were for apartments that were 500-600 a month, not this elite luxury kinda deal."

Hamilton's eyebrows furrow for a moment.

"Did you mention earlier... Mrs. Smith... she's having a baby?"

Ariadne slid sideways, off of Hamilton. "Yeah, why? Is that a line for you? No conning the pregnant? I'm sure they can take the hit. I mean, he's linked into a casino. A restaurant casino, but still. They've got money. I think that's why they're looking for temporary accommodations...renovating the house, painting the baby's room...whatever it is that expectant parents do," she says, standing and making her way towards the window. "Personally, I wouldn't raise a kid in Vegas, but...to each his own, I guess."

Hamilton looked at her cautiously as she walked toward the window, gears whirring behind his eyes.

"I mean, I don't give a shit. I'm just thinking if he's in the restaurant/casino business then we might wind up running in some of the same circles eventually, right? If they're our only offer, we'll take them. But if we get the Martinez's money and Jackson's? Might be better to let the Smiths go for now, right?"

He turned to his side, resting on his elbow.

"And what's the story behind that scar?"

"Agreed. Let's leave them out if we can. But if they're the only offer...yeah I dunno how we'd work that without getting caught up, eventually. We should have worn disguises or something, you know? And...what scar? Oh, the lip? That's from Mr. Pizza Romance, silly. I can't seem to keep it covered. They need to invent a lipstick that's food-proof," she says, chuckling. She'd been trying out some new recipes since they'd been playing house in the condo. Things she'd like to see in the restaurant one day. It was...fun. Pretending to have a normal life that she'd never have.

Hamilton leaned back on the bed, thinking deeply, seemingly lost in a memory.

"Right. I didn't think he got you that bad. If I were an upstanding citizen, I'd call the cops on him for defacing a national treasure. And yea, we'll just have to wait."

He took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling.

"I hate waiting. Normally right about now I'd say we should go out and paint the town. However, considering we have no money- and stand to lose a ton of money if we randomly get spotted by any of our marks... well, just not worth it. So I guess I've condemned myself to three days of reading, writing, eating more of your culinary experiments, and seducing you. Oh wait- I stand corrected. A wise woman once told me "you can't seduce the willing".

"I can think of a worse way to spend three days. Even if we go a bit stir crazy, we'll make up for it on the other end."

The pair share a small smile. 

3 Days Later

The previous few days had been a strange experience for Hamilton. He'd never stayed cooped up like this before: it was fun, to a point. The first couple days had been relaxed. He'd slept a lot. He and Ariadne kept sneaking up and enticing the other. She'd been experimenting with different recipes in the kitchen. It was restful for both of them. On the third day, however, things were different. Things were tense. 

They stalked and paced around the house like sharks, refusing to sit still for fear of death. Every couple minutes one of them would look at the phone. The other, occasionally, would snap out a reminder that that just made things go slower. Time dragged. Ariadne tried cooking, but she couldn't focus: a pot ended up flying through a window. They tried sex, but even that didn't work. It was hard to enjoy it when each of them kept freezing every minute or two, thinking they'd heard the phone. Eventually, they just gave up. 

Until the phone rang. In her excitement, Ariadne had to resist the urge to grab the phone herself, even though that would have been disastrous. Hamilton took a moment to collect himself, then answered in the cheerful voice of John Jefferson. Beaming and exchanging pleasantries, he could feel Ariadne's nails gripping into his shoulder. Finally hanging up the phone, Hamilton turned around and leaned with his back against the wall, smirking.

"That was Mr. Jackson. 15."

Ariadne squeals and throws her arms around Hamilton's neck, jumping up and down in place. Fifteen thousand, as first and last, meant thirty thousand dollars. Even if the rest went to hell, they would be thirty grand richer. She starts to say something, but is cut off by the sound of the phone ringing again. She starts to reach for it instinctively, but stops herself and looks at Hamilton. How much would be on the other end of THIS call? Hamilton answers and plays out the same conversation, nearly verbatim. He hangs up and looks at Ariadne. "Martinez, Aria. Add another twenty five thou to the dollar signs I can see in your eyes!" This was insane. The money wasn't in hand yet, but fifty five thousand dollars...it was enough. They could walk away and make it work, comfortably. As she opens her mouth again, the phone rings once more. She couldn't take it. She needed to sit down, so she did. Right there on the floor at Hamilton's feet.

Hamilton focused as much as he could on the phone call, making small talk with Mr. Perry for a few moments as Ariadne leaned against his leg. Resting his hand on the top of her head, he grinned down at her. In a few moments he hung up the phone and slid down the wall to accompany her on the floor. He was vaguely smiling, but mostly just seemed like he was mildly in shock.

"That was Mr. and Mrs. Perry. Another 25."

His mind spun for a moment, thinking of logistics. He'd have to handle the paperwork immediately, get everything signed... but eighty thousand...

Leaning forward, he took Ariadne's face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead.

"Eighty. I told you we'd make a good team, eh? Better start making plans for that restaurant of yours..."

The smile finally broke through the confusion on his face as he leaned back against the wall. 

"But not right away. Once we get the money, I think we've got to be scarce for a while until this blows over. Got another city you feel like visiting for a while?"

The lopsided grin is back. "How's Chicago sound? Remember the gallery I told you about? We can stock up on restaurant deco...and items for our next con. Let's parlay some of this condo money into that quickie art dealership, make even more money, Alex. We're on fire, let's not stop now!"