Sighing, I sank into the edge of the counter. “Marco. It’s late, and you need your beauty sleep.” I gave him an ornery smile. “I can’t have you being so tired you get shot again.”

His face softened. “I don’t think it’s exhaustion you have to worry about. More likely I’d be distracted by the worry that I lost my best friend.”

I reached up to touch his cheek. “We had a disagreement. We’ve had plenty before, and somehow we’ve gotten over every single one.”

“This one is different,” he whispered, his gaze holding mine. “You think I was excusing what that fucker did.”

I pulled back, shaking my head. “No. I know you weren’t. I was just trying to make you think about how you were framing the question.” Leaning over, I kissed his forehead. “Go home. Get some sleep and rest easy that we’re fine. Okay?”

His mouth stretched into a grim look. “I can’t. Max called an employee meeting for after the bar closes in an hour.”

My brow wrinkled. “An employee meeting? Since when? I haven’t heard about this, and besides, you’re not even an employee.”

“Max called it after Wyatt came out with busted knuckles. And you’ll find out the rest after the bar closes.”

“Order up,” Wyatt called out, giving me a dark look.

Why was he still here, anyway?

The crowd started to thin, finally, but if I were the foreman at the construction site, I’d be concerned about all the men showing up to work with hangovers. It wasn’t my place to worry, though, and the tavern was making money hand over fist. Despite Max’s earlier concern about serving a worker a beer for lunch, he seemed totally on board with their nighttime shenanigans.

Max had to kick a few stragglers out, and after he locked up, he stood next to an empty table. “Everyone head on over, and we’ll get started.”

Tiny emerged from the kitchen in back. Wyatt circled the corner of the bar, but instead of leaving, he walked over to the table.

I was about to ask Max why Wyatt was coming to an employee meeting, but then I realized he was supposed to be there. Max must have hired him to help with the expanded crowd. The real question was what Marco was still doing here.

Wyatt took a seat at the table Max was standing in front of, but I sat at that table behind Wyatt. Marco sat across from me, with Ruth between us. Tiny took a seat at the table with Wyatt, while Max stayed standing.

“As y’all have noticed, we’re busier than a snow cone salesman in a heat wave, so there are going to be a few changes. First off, Wyatt has agreed to work nights and weekends to help behind the bar.”

Ruth crossed her arms over her chest. “Is he too good to wait tables with Carly and me? That’s where we need the real help. You know Bingham won’t let Lula help out much longer, and after what happened to Carly tonight…”

My face reddened at the reminder, but I was struck with the fact that she’d insisted we could handle it ourselves just hours earlier.

“Well,” she continued. “Let’s just say Bingham wouldn’t have been as magnanimous as Wyatt if it happened to Lula.”

Max’s face blanched as he realized she was right.

“I’m not above waitin’ tables,” Wyatt said with an expressionless face. “I’ll be happy to help wherever I’m needed.”

“You ever waited tables before?” Ruth asked.

“I have a bit of experience,” he challenged.

She shook her head in disgust.

Max’s jaw tightened. “I’m gonna get you and Carly more help. And you’re right about Lula. I doubt Bingham will let her help out much longer, although we all know the lunch crowd is tamer than the evening. But for now, Wyatt will help out wherever we need him. And after what happened to Carly, I’ve made another hire. Marco’s gonna be workin’ security in the evenings.”

“Security?” I asked in surprise.

I turned to Ruth, expecting her to protest, but she quirked a brow. “What? I think it’s a great idea.”

“You’re against it?” Marco asked.

“Bigger bars have them,” Max countered before I could answer. “Tiny and I have historically acted as security, which has worked out so far, but now there are too many men coming in. Too many that don’t know or follow the rules.”

“I’m not protesting,” I said. “It just seems like a lot for him. He’s working all day, then coming here every night?”

“Hey,” Wyatt said. “What about me?”

I frowned. What about him, indeed. How would he and Marco get along? I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure it will be a lot for you too,” I said grudgingly.

“Gee, thanks,” he grumped.

“This starts tomorrow night,” Max said. “And like I mentioned, I’ll work on finding a replacement or two for Lula.”

“Then are we done?” Ruth asked. “I still need to count tips and get home for some much-needed sleep.”

“Yeah,” Max said with a frown and a wave of his hand. “In fact, you can leave your tips and I’ll count ’em up for you.”

She shook her head. “I’ll do it. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Max gave me a look that suggested I could leave, but I shook my head and pulled out my money and began to count.

We’d made a lot more than usual, enough that it took us fifteen minutes to count it. By the time we finished, the guys had stacked all the chairs upside down on the table. Wyatt had begun mopping the floor while Marco and Max conferred about security in the back. Tiny had already cleaned up the kitchen and left.

I headed to the office with Tiny’s share of the tip money and rapped on the frame of the partially closed door.

“Max, it’s me. I have Tiny’s tip money.”

Marco opened the door, leaning over in his chair to do it—the office was that small—and Max nodded to me from behind his desk. Marco held out his hand, and I gave him the stack of money and receipts.

Max’s gaze leveled with mine. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said, feeling self-conscious. “But thank you for asking.”

“You want me to follow you home?” Marco asked, worry in his eyes.

“Goodness no. I’ll be fine.”

“If you change your mind…”

I gave him a warm smile. “I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

Ruth was waiting for me by the back door, and she sent a glance toward the dining room as we headed out to the parking lot. “How do you feel about Wyatt workin’ here?”

“It worked out just fine tonight,” I said with a hint of attitude.

“Good thing he was here to save you.”

I put a hand on my hip. “For the record, I could have handled him. That guy was drunk off his ass. All I needed to do was sweep his feet out from under him. Wyatt just showed up before I had a chance.”

“Maybe so…” She gave me a speculative look as we entered the parking lot. “He still has feelings for you, Carly.”

“And that’s just too doggone bad,” I said. “Because that ship sailed right on out of the harbor and sunk on a sandbar.”