"Ow!" the driver cried, jerking his hand back and shaking it wildly in the air.

"You filthy pig! You get out of here and never come back!" Linda snarled as she backed up and pressed her ass against the wall.

"You little bitch!" the drive wailed, sliding off the stool and backing toward the door as he still stared angrily at her. "You think you can get away with that? I'll get your for this!" ht growled menacingly as he spun around and stalked out of the diner.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" Max Greiger, the night cook called from the kitchen.

"Nothin', Max. Just another one of those pigs trying to make a pass," Linda said, still fixing her eyes on the dosed door, waiting for the driver to come stomping back in to rape her. She'd been threatened before by drivers who she'd put down. A few tried to get at her either in the parking lot when she got off the night shift or at her home three miles away. But Linda had always managed to avoid her attackers.

"That was Chris Orozco, honey," Max said, pushing the white wooden swinging door open and walking out into the counter area. "I wouldn't call him a pig. He's mighty important."

Linda put the coffeepot back down on the warmer and turned around, smiling at Max. The sweat on his face from the hot kitchen made his skin glisten. His forehead wrinkled and the skin around his dark eyes tightened as the big man smiled playfully at Linda. Max was about the only man around there who treated the full-titted blonde as something more than a piece of meat. He was a large-framed man with thick, muscular arms and long, powerful legs.

Max played tackle for the Gilroy amateur football team during the weekends, working out in between work shifts and football practice at the local gym. He was big, broad and rough around the social edges. But Max meant well, and that's what counted for Linda.

"So what? He's the President or something?" Linda quipped as she bent down and picked up an old, torn dishrag to wipe down the counter top.