“We were tumin’ your dump into a profit-makin’ hotel. That’s what we were supposed to do.”
I was tryin’ to stay out of this ‘cause a my temper, but I had to get a word or two in here somewhere.
“A hotel? A hotel? This isn’t a hotel! What I left you with was a hotel! What I came back to is a sideshow! And what do you mean by profitable? All the rooms on the first floor are gone! That cuts my rental earnings by twenty percent!”
“Twenty percent of an empty hotel is still nothing!” I shot back.
“Massha’s right,” Vic said, stepping between us. “We needed that space for attractions to draw in some customers. Besides, everything we put in there generates revenues for the hotel.”
“Not if they don’t sell anything!” Hysterium argued. “Have you been in any of those places? Have you seen the junk they’re selling? And the prices . . . they’re charging more for a cup of coffee in that club you put in than I’m used to paying for a whole meal!”
“Not everybody eats as cheap as you do,” I muttered under my breath.
“What?”
“I said you stand ta clear a heap when they do … sell stuff to the customers, that is.”
“But there aren’t going to be any . . . Ohhh! I’m ruined!”
The Deveel sank into a chair and hid his face in his hands.
“Of course, if you had wanted design approval, you should have stayed around. As it was, Massha and Vic had no recourse but to use their own judgment.” That was Skeeve speakin’ from his chair in the comer. So far, he hadn’t done much more than listen to the rantings.
“Stayed around?” Hysterium’s head came up with a snap. “They made me go! They said I’d have to trust them if I wanted to use your outfit’s services.”