Deadly Disco in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 6) Read Free Page B

sighed and said, “It’s for my job.”
    “Don’t you like your job?” asked Simone.
    “I do,” I said slowly. At least, I used to. Until this new manager, Brian Wesley, started to introduce things like weight controls for the dealers. All the dealers would need to be under a certain body mass index or weight by the end of next month. It was really a ridiculous figure, one that meant all dealers would need to look like skinny supermodels, and there was no way I would meet the weight limit if I continued with my daily diet of cupcakes, cupcakes, pasta and then some more cupcakes.
    And then, there was the matter of my moonlighting as a private investigator.
    I’d started my PI gig in an attempt to leave the casino job and work for myself, as my own boss. But I hadn’t mustered the nerve to quit the casino just yet; I wanted to save a bit of money before I quit. In the meantime, word about my PI gigs had spread, and the casino pit bosses gave me the stink eye each time I called in sick. To be fair, they were right about their suspicions. I never got paid when I called in sick, but it didn’t look good on the rosters.
    I wasn’t sure how to explain all that to a six-year-old, so I said, “People are sometimes grumpy at the casino.”
    Glenn said, “Actually, that gives me an idea. Why don’t you take this box to share at work?”
    I looked at him doubtfully. The words ‘sharing’ and ‘cupcakes’ don’t usually go together in my vocabulary. But the last time I’d taken some treats into work, everyone had been thrilled.
    And maybe, if I could get everyone else addicted to cupcakes, people would see how ridiculous weight controls were.
    “You’ve got the right idea,” I admitted to Glenn. “Besides, I’m supposed to be losing weight.”
    Karma said, “Those weight controls you were telling us about?” I nodded and she went on, “Maybe you should try savory muffins? Or sugar-free healthy cakes?”
    I made a face just thinking about them.
    Simone noticed the face I’d made and copied me. She said, “Yuck! What’s savory muffins? They sound yucky!”
    “Yucky!” repeated Sam, looking up at his big sister adoringly.
    “They really taste quite good,” said Karma.
    “I’ll think about it,” I said to Karma, not meaning it at all. I did appreciate that she was trying to help me lose weight, but I just couldn’t bear the thought of not eating delicious, sugary cupcakes.
    I grabbed the box of precious cupcakes, said goodbye to everyone, and headed out.
    Driving down the Strip was impossible after four in the afternoon, so I speed-walked the couple of blocks until I stepped into the Treasury Casino. A blast of cool air greeted me as I stepped through security and into the staff area, heading straight for the break room, where the pre-shift meeting was supposed to be held.
    Brian Wesley had introduced a new system of staff meetings before our shifts. I hated the man: he’d been brought in from a casino across the street and had all kinds of new ideas that pleased management. I viewed him as a ridiculous, impractical corporate type who wanted the casino pit staff to adhere to crazy, unworkable goals and KPIs. He’d introduced this idea that dealers would need to stay below a certain weight, and I hated him for it.
    I was a few minutes early, as were a couple of my coworkers, so I opened the cupcake box and invited everyone to share.
    I dug into my chocolate cupcake: as I’d predicted, it was moist, delicious, and just sweet enough. Everyone around me was making “nom nom” noises as we gobbled down our cupcakes until they were gone.
    “This can’t be good for my diet,” said Lisa, a slightly chubby Asian dealer who tended to always work on the same shifts as me.
    “Yeah,” groaned another girl. “I’m going to have to go running for three hours to burn this off.”
    We grumbled about weight controls and how impractical and unfair they were. I’d done some investigative work for a reality show