She didn’t have to say which order it was. I shouldn’t let the perv wait, but going back out there… “Listen, I’m working. I can’t really talk now.”

“Roger that,” Roan said. “But I want to see you before that thing tonight.”

“Pick me up after my shift.” I checked my watch. Only eightish more hours to go. “I want to see you, too. Okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good.” I ended the transmission and pushed away from the wall.

“Go take the man his food. Por favor,” Mom said as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. “The quicker he’s fed, the quicker he’s gone. And be polite.”

I wanted to say something snappy back to her but stopped myself. “Will do.” I grabbed the plate from the warmer and shouldered my way through the door.

Be polite. I could totally be polite. I’d been doing this for years now, and he wasn’t my first handsy customer.

I needed to check on my other tables, so I went around to the customer side of the counter and set the plate piled high with his breakfast—extra everything—in front of the perv. “Do you need anything else?” I gave him a smile.

If only Mom could see how freaking polite I was being.

Without the counter between us, he grabbed my arm again before I could pull away.

I had a moment to think about how I shouldn’t have gone to his side of the counter before my body tensed. I waited to see what he’d do, but each second seemed to last an eternity.

I couldn’t mess this up. Not now.

“Why don’t you sit right next to me, sugar? Keep me company while I eat.” He pulled me toward the seat next to him.

I could be polite for maybe two more seconds but not longer. I had to get out of this. Quickly.

“I’m working.” I motioned to a full table across the room. They’d finished their omelets, and one of them looked like they were about to snap their fingers at me. “I have to go see what they need.”

I stepped back and tried to wrench my arm free, but his fingers dug in painfully.

No. This was bad. This was very bad.

“Please let me go. You’re hurting me.” I said the words a little louder. People were noticing, and maybe if they noticed more, he’d back down.

But from one second to the next, something changed in him.

I’d told him he was hurting me and now he was grinning.

It wasn’t the crooked leer from before. It was the smile of a person who was finally getting what they wanted.

He liked that he was hurting me, but there was something else to it. Maybe it was that I was cornered. I was powerless. A guy like him must love that.