Chapter 22
“Don’t sweat it, lad.” Phil had told him when Gerry had looked up from his first glance of the hand job and stared in shock. “The press only catches what we let ‘em. And the owners don’t dare to say a word.” Phil peered at the table where the couple sat, and then narrowed his eyes. “Honestly, if I’m not mistaken, I believe that isthe owner.”
Gerry hadn’t bothered to ask which person Phil referred to. It wasn’t like he was ever going to see these people again, anyway. He just watched—everything, everyone, doing things he’d never believed but had always imagined.