“Very well, sir.”
“Excuse me?”
The butler shook his head. “Forgive me. It was my effort at a small joke-something a magician once told me when I asked how he did a particular trick, or `effect,’ as he called it.”
The manager blinked, then flashed a brief smile. “Oh. Yes. I see. Very funny.”
“As to your question,” Beeker continued, “I imagine that my position is not unlike your own, in that since it is not high-profile, headline-quality work, people tend to assume that it’s easy. The truth is that our work is extremely difficult. A special type of individual is required to merely survive, much less thrive, on the stressful decisions we must make daily. One must strike a balance between boldness and caution, theatrics and sincerity, all the while maintaining the open-mindedness and creativity necessary to deal with unforeseen situations. As you know, Mr. Bombest, there are no instruction manuals or college curriculums offered for our type of work. We each have to write our own book of rules from our personal experiences, then stand ready to break those rules should circumstances require it.”
“You’re right, Beeker,” the manager said thoughtfully. “I guess I’ve known that all along, though not in those precise words. I just forget from time to time. Thanks for reminding me.”
He thrust out his hand, and, after the briefest of pauses, the butler accepted it with a firm handshake.
Beeker reflected on his conversation with the hotel manager as he wandered into one of the casino’s coffee shops.