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27

I-shirley

27

The pit boss tapped Peter on the shoulder and whispered,

"The manager wants to meet you." Peter blanched. "Don't

worry, it's all good."

Gil Flores, the floor manager of the Constellation, was

sleek and urbane, and in his presence Peter felt scruffy and

self-conscious. His armpits were damp, he wanted to leave.

The manager's office was utilitarian, equipped with multiple

flat-screen panels getting live feeds from the tables and slots.

Flores was drilling down, trying to figure out the how’s

and the whys. How did a civilian spot something his guys

didn't and why did he turn them in? "What am I missing

here?" Flores asked the timid man.

Peter took a sip of water. "I knew the count," Peter admit-

ted.

"You were counting too?"

"Yes."

"You're a counter? You're admitting to me you're a counter?" Flores's voice was rising.

"I count, but I'm not a counter."

Flores's polish rubbed off. "What the fuck does that

mean?"

"I keep the count-it's kind of a habit, but
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