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before closing. With no Monday Night Football to bring people in, there were only a couple of late diners left when Wade sidled up to the waitress station next to the bar. Daisy was making quick work of rolling a pile of silverware into white napkins. She said, “You need me to call someone to drive you home?”
    “Nah.” He leaned his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. “Jeff called Jillian. She’ll get us both home safe and sound.” He paused for a moment. “Unless you’d like to take me home.”
    “I don’t date the customers.” She kept her eyes mostly on her work, hoping to discourage him.
    “Who said anything about a date?”
    Daisy shot him a quick glance. Funny how sexual harassment made him so much less handsome. “Why don’t you go wait with Jeff and I’ll bring y’all some coffee.” She dropped the last set of rolled up silverware and moved to step out from the behind the table.
    Wade blocked her path. He stood in front of her, one hand on her arm. “I’m gonna be in town for a week or two. I sure would like to see you again.”
    His hand was warm on her skin, his fingers moving in a slow caress. She took the sleeve of his shirt between the tips of two fingers and pulled his hand off of her. “You’re hard to resist when you slur your words all drunk like, but I’m not interested.”
    A good-natured grin spread slowly across his face. “Well, now, I wouldn’t hit on you sober cause you’re too damn young for me. But since I’m drunk, I thought, hey, what the hell?”
    Some of the nervous tension that had been building in her since he approached ebbed. Nothing about his manner or his body language rang any alarms. He was just a drunk, lonely good ‘ol boy. She almost felt sorry for him, but not enough to take him home. “At least you’re an honest drunk. Go on, now. Sit with Jeff and I’ll bring y’all coffee while you wait on Jillian.”
    She walked around him, headed for the coffee urn stationed at the entrance to the kitchen. He mumbled something as she passed then slapped on her the rear, hard enough to sting and make a cracking noise that seemed to echo in the nearly empty restaurant.
    Somebody said “oh shit.” It might have been Ronisha.
    Daisy had one hard and fast rule when it came to customers and co-workers and especially bosses. That rule was do no touch . She’d lost jobs over it in the past. A warning screamed in her head that she couldn’t afford to lose this one, but she didn’t listen. Hell, she’d never been able to afford to lose a job. But after everything she’d been through, she’d learned the hard way that you couldn’t let people walk on you, no matter the cost.
    She whirled around and knocked Wade’s hat off his head.
    “Hey!”
    “You don’t touch me!”
    Wade leaned over to pick up his hat. The tip of his boot caught on the floor and he teetered over, finally losing his balance and going down. “Shit.”
    “I don’t care who you are or how well you tip, you don’t put your hands on a waitress.”
    He rolled over and pulled himself into a sitting position with his legs drawn up and his hands on his knees. “I am regretting it now, let me tell you.”
    Daisy stood over him with one hand on her waist and the other pointing an angry index finger at his head. “You don’t put your hands on any woman unless she gives you permission. Do you hear me, you big dumb redneck?”
    “You’re yelling pretty loud, so yeah, I can hear you.” He plucked his hat from the floor, dusted it off, and set it on his head.
    Maybe it was the weight of the day. Maybe the lateness of the hour, or her worries about a nebulous future. Maybe it was because despite his behavior, she knew she found him attractive and hated that knowledge because when she’d said she was through with good time bad boys, she’d meant it, damn it. His hand on her arm, his fingers playing across her skin – it might have felt good for, like, half a second. But that