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Oct. 25th, 2007

Sam was leaning against the bar on one elbow. His usually garish choice of suit had been toned down today. He'd stared into his closet that morning and pulled a face that accentuated all of his laughter lines. It was true what Ginger had said to him. "You don't smile enough anymore."

That was only because he had less to smile about. So he ran a Casino. So he had more money than it was safe to tell even his best friend Nicky about. So he was still driven to his choice of apparel by his mood. So what? Nobody told Ace Rothstein what to wear.

He tapped the end of a Gitane against the box from which he'd removed it. He placed it absent-mindedly between his lips as he surveyed the passing scene, lighting it equally nonchalantly.

Sam liked times like this. Nobody was jumping down his throat. Ginger was off somewhere, doing her thing, in her own sweet way. Nicky seemed to be behaving himself, for once.

Generally, if only for a moment, life was just fine. So he savoured it, exhaling deeply.

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