“You’re not working another shift here.”

“My shift ends at ten,” she said.

“The floor manager will dock my pay.”

“I’ll pay the manager,” I said.

“Get your coat.”

She turned and slipped back in through the service door without saying another word.

I walked back through the dining room to the booth, where Frank was finishing his second glass of iced tea.

“Everything all right?” Frank asked, studying my face.