Another plus about the guy was that Crystal had hated him the one time she’d visited Ketch here last Christmas. She’d even embarrassed Wynn several times by calling him Ketch’s “bad influence” friend.

Ketch smiled grimly. Tonight, Wynn would probably prove Crystal right.

“About time you got here, Ketch, my man. You’re three drinks behind.” Wynn slapped Ketch on the back.

“I’ll catch up.” Kincaid lifted Wynn’s full bottle of Coors and downed it.

Wynn laughed. “So the rumor is true. The blonde bitch dumped you.”

“Yep.” Kincaid held up four fingers to the waitress.

She nodded back. For a moment, Ketch saw the small barmaid; really saw her, in a room full of people who never noticed the help. She was slender, with long black hair tied up in a ponytail, no makeup, T-shirt a bit too low-cut, but what startled him was the fact that her beautiful green eyes looked sadder than he felt.

He’d thought he’d cornered the market on sorrow tonight, but maybe he was wrong.

Ketch turned away. The last thing he needed was being around someone who was worse off than he was.

When she delivered the drinks, he thanked her but avoided eye contact. Her hand shook a bit when she set the beers down.

“Who is that girl?” he asked WW as she walked away.

“Tuesday Raine.” Ketch took a long drink while Wynn added, “Some of the guys call her Mattress Tuesday ’cause she’ll go home with anyone. Only, from what I hear, she never talks. She just lays there and lets the guy do what he wants.”

“You ever sleep with her?” Ketch watched the waitress moving gracefully through the crowd, reminding him of a willow swaying in the wind. Probably about five foot four, which would be too short to date in his book. Not that he’d ever date again.

“No.” Wynn pulled Ketch back to the conversation. “I must have caught her on an off night. She turned me down.” WW grinned. “Besides, I like my women to participate. If I’m drunk, I want a wild roller-coaster ride, not a dead fish.”

Ketch wouldn’t be surprised if WW was a virgin. He was always bragging, but in three years Ketch had never seen a girl look interested in him. Even with his granddad’s oil money, he couldn’t find a date.

Three girls wearing sorority sweatshirts neared their table. They started talking to WW, but they kept glancing at Kincaid. Wynn introduced him as the smartest guy in the class, and all three blondes smiled as if WW had said, “He’s richer than me and available.”