Chapter 04
1273 Words
Riley
Ruby’s Diner looked like something out of a postcard that had been mailed fifty years ago and forgotten in a drawer. The kind with curling corners and faded colors, where nothing ever really changed; just aged.
It sat at the corner of Main and Maple, as if it had been planted there, its red-and-white awning flapping gently in the morning breeze, the paint peeling but proud.
A neon sign above the door buzzed softly, the word EAT flickering like it had somewhere better to be. A bell above the door jingled as I stepped inside, and I was immediately enveloped in the kind of warmth that didn’t just feel on your skin, but settled in your bones.
It smelled like pancakes, butter, grease, and something spicy baking in the back. Comfort. Calories. No judgment.
The interior was narrow, with red vinyl booths lining the windows and a long counter that curved at the end, resembling a hook. Everything was mismatched in a way that meant it had history. Checkered floor tiles with scuff marks, sugar shakers half-full, a napkin holder with a cracked corner.
Behind the counter stood a woman with a face that said she’d seen it all and hadn’t been impressed by most of it.
“Lost or hungry?” she asked, one hand on her hip and the other flipping a dishrag over her shoulder.
“Little of both,” I admitted, shifting awkwardly.
Her mouth twitched. “Good answer. Sit anywhere.”
I slid onto a barstool near the end, picking one close to the wall where I could see the front door. Old habit. I didn’t even think about it anymore.
She poured a cup of coffee without asking and slid it toward me. “You just rolled into town?”
“Yesterday.”
“You staying at the Rose?”
I blinked. “Yeah.”
She nodded, not surprised. “Thought so. You’ve got that ‘fresh start’ smell on you.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Depends on if you run or rebuild.”
I gave her a tired smile. “Still figuring that part out.”
Her expression softened. “You’ll get there. I’m Ruby.”
“Riley.”
“Well, Riley,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee, “let me be the first to welcome you to Redstone. The town's motto is unofficially: ‘Don’t ask, but we probably already know.’
I chuckled. “That explains a lot.”
She leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering. “So. Are you one of Ash’s?”
My stomach flipped.
“One of his…?”
She raised a brow, eyes sharp but not unkind. “Girl shows up looking like she’s been through hell, car ends up at Reyes Auto, and you’re sitting in my diner wearing a shirt that screams don’t ask me about last night… I connect dots.”
I opened my mouth, but the words were stuck somewhere between he saved me and I don’t know what he was to me.
“I’m not anything of his,” I said finally. “He just helped me.”
Ruby studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “That’s how it starts.”
Before I could ask what that meant, she waved over her shoulder. “You eaten yet today?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
“One plate of French toast, a side of bacon, extra syrup. On the house.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“I know,” she said. “But around here, if you show up wearing last night’s worry, we feed you before we ask what broke.”
I blinked hard, surprised by how much those words hit me. Ruby walked to the pass-through window and hollered the order, her voice sharper than necessary. From the kitchen came a muffled “yeah, yeah” and the clatter of a spatula.
I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and stared into the coffee like it had answers.
“You planning to stick around?” Ruby asked casually, leaning on the counter again.
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll know soon,” she said. “Redstone’s the kind of place that spits you out fast if it doesn’t want you. But if it lets you stay, it’s for a reason.”
I frowned. “What kind of reason?”
Ruby shrugged. “Fresh start. Unfinished business. Or something a little messier.”
The food arrived a few minutes later, golden French toast stacked high, dusted with powdered sugar, bacon curled and crispy on the side. It was the best thing I’d smelled in days.
I didn’t speak. I just ate.
Halfway through the plate, I felt someone slide into the stool two seats to my left.
“Morning, Ruby,” said a gravelly voice.
“Hey, Walt. Your usual?”
“Yep. And some news with it.”
Ruby sighed. “You’re not dragging her into the gossip mill. Not today.”
Walt leaned forward to look around her. “That the girl from the highway?”
I paused mid-bite.
Ruby shot him a look that could peel paint. “Walt.”
He grinned, unbothered. “Word gets around, is all. Flat tire. Then boom, her car shows up at Ash’s? People notice.”
I wiped my mouth and set down my fork. “Small town, huh?”
Walt nodded. “Tight town. Everyone knows each other’s business. Some just don’t know it yet.”
Ruby slapped a coffee cup down in front of him. “Go bother someone else with your speculation. Riley’s got enough on her plate.”
He held up both hands. “Just being neighborly.”
She looked at me once Walt turned away. “You want a job?”
I blinked. “What?”
“You need money. I need someone who won’t cry if a regular grabs their ass or complains that the biscuits aren’t as fluffy as their grandma’s.”
I stared at her. “That’s… incredibly blunt.”
She shrugged. “You want the job or not?”
I looked down at the empty plate. Thought about my car, my motel key, and the fact that I had maybe eighty-seven dollars left to my name.
“When can I start?”
“Tomorrow, 6:00 am sharp. Black shirt, hair up, no attitude until after lunch rush.”
I smiled. “Deal.”
Ruby walked away with a nod and a grin.
The bell over the door chimed, and a shiver ran down my spine. I didn't have to look to know who it was.
His presence hit the room like a cold draft. Everyone went quiet for half a second too long. Ruby didn’t react, didn’t even glance up as she poured another cup of coffee.
I twisted in my seat, slow, careful.
He didn’t look at me as he passed. Just walked straight to the counter, exchanged a few quiet words with Ruby, grabbed a to-go cup, and turned to leave.
But right before he reached the door, he paused.
His eyes met mine.
Just for a breath.
Then he was gone.
The bell jingled, the door shut, and it was like he hadn’t been there at all.
Ruby exhaled like she’d been holding her breath.
“That one,” she said, wiping a spot on the counter that wasn’t dirty, “he has a way of lighting fires he’s got no intention of putting out.”
I turned back to my coffee, my heart still racing.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I noticed.”
- Writer
