CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A week later and Sal Gabrini, along with his underboss Robby Yale, were walking through a construction site in Vegas where Sal was building an expansion wing of his office building. But there were problems. That was why Robby Yale was at the site.
“What kind of problems?” Sal asked. In his signature double-breasted suit and fancy leather loafers, he looked completely out of place. But he didn’t care. He just needed to make sure the project remained on schedule and especially on budget. “I don’t need any problems right now.”
“The council has to approve any further expansion before we can continue,” Robby said.
“And?”
“And that’s not looking very likely.”
Sal stopped walking and looked at him. “Why the hell not, Robby? If I put my stamp of approval on it, then they’ll put theirs. We paid their asses. They agreed to rubberstamp everything we do.”
“Not this time, Boss. You already own most of this area. The other business owners feel you’ve been locking them out. They’re fed up. And there are safety considerations.”
“Bullshit. They’ve known about this expansion for years.
It was tentatively approved last year. Now all of a sudden they have reservations?
Now all of a sudden they feel left out? I’m not buying it, Robby.
It’s those same hippy-ass, longhaired environmentalists fucks making all of these demands. Nobody listens to them.”
“Well somebody’s listening right now,” Robby said “because they want to put a pause of construction. I got the notice today.”
Sal couldn’t believe it. “Show it to me,” he said and Robby gave him the letter.
But Robby also thought he saw something above his head.
And when he glanced up and saw a beam on a scaffold falling straight down toward him and his boss, he pushed Sal out of the way and dived in the other direction himself.
The beam fell hard within inches of Sal.
But Robby wasn’t as fortunate. One of his legs was trapped underneath the beam. Sal and every worker out there ran to his aid.