“I worked my whole schedule through four o’clock Friday,” I said, holding my ground at the counter.

“Those wages are legally earned.”

Dale leaned over the counter until his face was six inches from mine.

“You walked out of here, and that very same afternoon two boxes of heavy shop towels went missing from the back supply room.”

My face burned hot under the fluorescent lights, but I didn’t back up.

“I never touched your shop towels, Dale.”

“I know how ex-employees act when they think the world owes them,” Dale said, shouting over the whine of an impact wrench out in the bay.