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put an arm around the back of my chair and leaned close again. “Hey, if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t,” he murmured close to my ear.
    He must be drunk, I decided. Or maybe he just couldn’t see me that well? It was certainly very dim in the nightclub.
    There was no mistaking now, though, that he was flirting.
    I managed a smile, wondering if I should just tell him I was way too old to be of interest to him.
    Or, maybe, he was what passed for a gigolo these days? Maybe he was one of those gorgeous young men who attached themselves to older women with money?
    “What do you do for a living?”
    I’m sure I looked as uncomfortable as I felt. Now was the moment of truth. Now his eyes and his smile would cool, he’d excuse himself and disappear. “I’m a waitress,” I said bluntly.
    He leaned back, looked me over speculatively. “Oh? Where do you work?”
    I was stunned to silence for several moments. He didn’t look the least put off by my humble circumstances. It had to be the lack of light then, I decided.
    I told him the name of the coffee shop. He nodded, leaned close again, told me he was a departmental supervisor at a software development company.
    I was impressed—extremely surprised, but impressed. Maybe I just wasn’t very good at judging age.
    Surely, if he had that sort of position he must be at least a little closer to thirty than twenty?
    But still years younger than me. It had to be the lighting, I decided.
    His beer arrived. Two young men had trailed the waitress. Like Rance, they could have been mistaken for young heart throbs of the silver screen. One of the two was no more than medium in height, but stocky or, more likely since the stockiness did not include his middle, more heavily muscular than the other man with him. The second was tall and lanky, fair, and almost baby faced pretty. He reminded me strongly of Brad Pitt.
    They ordered beer, then sprawled in the vacant chairs at my table. The young man who’d introduced himself to me as Rance leaned toward them. “This is Delilah.”
    He knew them? I’d assumed they had just wandered over to find a place to sit.
    “This is Jerico. And the computer nerd over there is Trey. They work with me.”
    Jerico of the sports jock build and Trey, who could have gotten a job as Brad Pitt’s double. I would have been willing bet my last cent that if these three worked together and there were any females on staff, it would have been impossible for the females to keep their minds on work.
    I smiled and nodded at the introductions, but I was becoming more uncomfortable by the moment. Now I had three very young, very good-looking men at the table with me. I should have felt flattered, I suppose, or at the least, gratified to find myself surrounded by gorgeous young hunks, but I felt like I’d stumbled upon some sort of game. Any minute they would do or say something to indicate that they’d only been amusing themselves at my expense. Surreptitiously, I downed several healthy swallows of my drink, hoping it would help me to relax.
    The waitress came back with the two bottles of beer the newcomers had ordered. Trailing behind her was another young man. Like Rance, the newcomer was swarthy, his hair a dark color close to black.
    He didn’t appear to be quite as tall as Rance, though that might have been because he looked to be a good bit more muscular—like Jerico the newcomer had the build of a sports jock. He ordered a round and sat down in the last seat, across from me. He was introduced as Nick.
    The young man named Trey, who’d sat next to me, opposite Rance, leaned over closer to me, placing his arm on the back of my chair. “You ready for another drink?”
    I’d only taken a few sips—gulped them actually and was feeling a little light headed already—though it was possible my senses were merely swimming in the testosterone surrounding me. I shook my head. He grinned. “Better get one while the waitress is here, pretty lady. What are you