fiction by Adrienne Sharp

In Vegas That Year

vegasAfter the Flamingo lost $300,000 in its first two weeks, Meyer Lansky forced Ben to close and retool. Mr. Lansky sent some of his men from the El Cortez to poke through everything in the hotel before he himself flew out in March to review the account books, to check the cameras in the counting room, to re-rig the tables and rewire the slot machines. Out front there were to be no more thieving Greek dealers. No more tuxedoes. This wasn’t Paris or Havana. We needed to be friendly-looking, not intimidating. The new dealers would wear regular suits, just like the patrons. There would be bingo and giveaways, and just the idea of either one of those made Benny, his manager, wince. I knew Lansky wasn’t happy about Ben’s recent divorce. There was nothing at all, really, that Lansky was happy about on this visit.

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Summer Fiction

The articles in this special section:
camp

Max’s Mom Goes to Camp

a short story by Judith Zimmer

sandstorm

Sandstorm

a short story by Carol Westreich Solomon

vegas

In Vegas That Year

fiction by Adrienne Sharp