“Hunk alert at three o’clock,” said Dee, a pretty, dark-haired waitress from New Jersey, as she sidled up next to Grace.

Grace glanced at her watch. “What happens at three o’clock?”

Joey and Dee exchanged grins, then Dee put her arm around Grace and said, “Poor baby’s led a sheltered life.”

“I guess I have,” Grace admitted.

Joey leaned over and whispered, “She’s alerting you that the boss just walked in.”

“And he is looking hunk-a-diddly-dumptious,” Dee said, smacking her lips.

Grace laughed. “Oh, wait, three o’clock, I get it.” She turned to her right and saw Logan, then quickly turned back and tried not to show she was flustered. “Does he come in every night?”

“He usually stops in, but never stays long,” Dee said, then frowned. “Until recently, anyway. Last night he was here for a couple hours. Not sure what that’s all about. I hope we’re not getting laid off.”

“The place is filled to capacity every week, so nobody’s getting laid off,” Joey said, then cast a less-than-subtle stare at Grace.

Dee frowned at him. “You think?”

“Oh, yeah,” Joey said as he opened a new bottle of rum.

“What?” Grace said, glancing from one to the other.

Dee raised both eyebrows. “Has the boss got his eye on you, Gracie girl?”

She grimaced. “He just wants to catch me making a mistake so he can fire me.”

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, honey,” Dee said, patting her shoulder. “Although, I gotta say, if I caught the eye of someone that hunkalicious, I’m not sure I’d be able to keep my cool.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Mmm-mmm. Is it getting hot in here or what?”

Grace elbowed her. “You’re crazy.”

“I don’t think so,” Dee said, chuckling.

“Here’s your piña coladas, Gracie,” Joey said. “You need help with the tray?”

“You’re sweet, but I’ve got it.”