“He was about to make me change when you saved the day,” Drue said. “I think the little perv gets off looking at camel toes.”

“Ya think?” Kaitlin crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “By the way, how’s the knee?”

“Hurts like a mother,” Drue said.

Kaitlin glanced around and lowered her voice. “I’ve got Percocet in my purse, if you want. My boyfriend had dental surgery and he saved ’em for me.”

“I’d love a Percocet, but anything with codeine makes me puke. Advil’s all I can take.”

“Poor you,” Kaitlyn said. “You’re on station three, by the way.”

“Got it.” Drue headed out to her station, six four-tops and four six-tops.

The next two hours were a blur. She took orders, delivered drinks and dodged drunken gropes. At one point she fought her way through the crowd to the bathroom, locked herself in a stall, dropped her jeans and unfastened the brace. Her knee was red and swollen to the size of a cantaloupe. “Not good,” she whispered.

She heard the bathroom door swing open with a bang. “Drue!” Prick’s voice echoed in the tile-floored room. “Get out here, goddamnit! Your tables are backed up.”

“Can I just pee in privacy?” she called, flushing the toilet.

“I’m not paying you to pee. Now get your ass out here and get to work.”

“Hey!” screamed a petite blonde in an oversize sorority jersey, pelting Drue in the face with a soggy wadded-up paper napkin. “Hey! I mean, could we finally get some service over here?”

The napkin bounced off her forehead and onto the floor. Drue froze in her tracks as the blonde and her college pals around the table giggled and guffawed.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“Um, well, a new attitude would be nice,” the blonde shot back, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I mean, don’t y’all work for tips?”

Drue felt the blood rise in her cheeks. “What would you like?” she repeated.

The blonde pointed at the stacked-up empties on the tabletop. “So, I need two of these, and—”

“Could I see some ID, please?” Drue asked.

“What?”

“ID. Like a driver’s license.”

The girl pouted. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” the girl exclaimed. “Look, I didn’t bring a purse tonight, right? So I don’t actually have my ID on me.”

“How were you planning on paying for your drinks?” Drue asked.

The blonde gave an arch smile and turned toward the balding salesman sitting next to her. She flung an arm over his shoulder. “Oh, no worries. My new friend Sammy here is buying tonight. Right, Sammy?”

“Right,” the salesman replied. “But, uh, it’s Stanley. Not Sammy.” He flipped a platinum AmEx card onto the table. “Bring the lady whatever she wants.”

“Sorry,” Drue said. “But I can’t serve her alcohol without a valid ID.”