Lunchtime at The Tangiers.

[rothstein_ace]

Sam was at the Craps tables with Billy Sherbet. Sam was measuring some new die. He didn't need to, he had a myriad of people to do this for him. Nonetheless, every so often, he liked to wander the casino floor, checking that everything was by his book. He expected a level of professionalism that matched his own. The experience the customers had, ultimately came from the service he provided, and there was no-one who provided a better service than Ace Rothstein. He had been an advocate of heuristics for more years than he cared to mention and had spent more than his fair share measuring and rolling, rolling and measuring. It paid to know. It certainly paid Sam to know.

Happy with the die, he released them to the table and there was an air of relief around the table as they realized they could get on with their game.

Sam looked at his watch. Lunchtime. He had a date. He smiled to himself. Nodded at Billy, advising him of his whereabouts in the next hour and a half, then made his sauntering exit.