Why did he have to be so big and mean looking? God, he was almost as scary as her attackers had been. No, no, he wasn’t. What was she thinking?

Wiping damp palms on her jeans, she forced a smile. “Chief, can I help you?”

“No.” He didn’t smile back. “Do you want a job?”

Hope rose like a helium-filled balloon. A job. Only… She eyed him. Men who offered to hire a woman without knowing her skills might be looking for…intimate services. Even nerds like her occasionally got propositioned.

No, she was being overly cautious. Despite being intimidating, he didn’t seem like a horny jerk. Or a needy one. He wasn’t exactly gorgeous, but his rough masculinity probably drew women like bees to clover. It was doubtful he’d ever had to pay for sex. “Doing what?”

“Serving drinks in a bar. Or maybe working as a waitress in the restaurant section.”

“Uhhhh…” A place filled with people? She usually dealt with one person at a time at the library—or over the internet for freelancing. She’d take the client’s request, do the work, and hand back information or books. “I don’t…”

She paused. Maybe serving bar customers wasn’t all that different. Take an order and hand back the requested drinks. She pulled in a breath. “I’m interested, but…”

How honest should she be?

“But what?”

Behind the cop’s back, Dante smiled encouragement.

“I’ve never waited on tables before.”

The police chief studied her, then shrugged. “It’ll be up to the owner.” He motioned to the door.

“Right now?” Her voice came out a squeak, and she flushed. But seriously? No time to prep? Look up what waitresses did? Put on the right clothes?

“Good a time as any. The roadhouse opens tomorrow.”

Oh. She should get over there ASAP if she wanted the job. She hesitated and looked at Dante.

“You go on, girl. Get a cash-paying job. Even if you do, you can still work here for room ’n’ board.”

He was such a nice man. When he’d offered the cabin, he told her she looked like his daughter who’d gone on ahead. The grief in his eyes had broken Audrey’s heart.

She smiled at him. “Thank you, Dante. That sounds perfect.”

“It’s not far,” the chief said. “We’ll walk.”

Silently, he walked beside her, taking a right, then a left down Sweetgale Street.

She gave him a sidelong look. Why couldn’t the guy have a potbelly and double chin or something? No, his stomach was flat, his shoulders broad, and his jaw was hard.

Mean-looking hard. Even a faint limp didn’t diminish the menace he radiated.

He caught her looking at him. “Relax. The jail is the other direction.”

“There’s a relief,” she muttered, and his low chuckle made her stumble. He did have a sense of humor. Who knew? “Where is this place?”