Can I get you started with some breakfast?” He looked up and for a second his mind went completely blank. Standing there with a pen and pad in hand was Renee Parker, not a Renee Parker, the Renee Parker, his best friend from middle school. The girl who used to quiz him on fractions while they sat on the stoop of her apartment building. The one who taught him to ignore the kids who made fun of his thrift store sneakers.
The one who had bigger dreams than anyone he’d ever met. But here she was, wearing a faded apron, hair pulled back in a loose bun, eyes a little more tired than he remembered. She didn’t recognize him, not yet. She was too busy wiping her hands on a dish towel, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was trying to smile through exhaustion. Matthew’s throat tightened. He hadn’t seen her in over 20 years. Back then, they’d both sworn they’d leave their struggling neighborhood and never look back.
He’d kept that promise and then some. His real estate empire stretched across five states, his face had been in magazines. Renee, he couldn’t help but notice the tremor in her hands when she wrote his order down, the way her shoulders drooped between tables. He didn’t want to stare, but he couldn’t stop. She glanced up finally, her gaze locking with his. “Wait, Matt?” she said slowly tilting her head. “Matthew Branson?” Her voice still had that same warmth like the years hadn’t stolen it, but the look in her eyes, that was different.
“Hey, Renee,” he said standing up slightly. “It’s been a long time.” She let out a small laugh shaking her head. “I’ll say. What are you doing in a place like this?” He could have answered honestly. Flat tire, bad luck, wrong exit, but something about her tone made him choose his words carefully. “Just passing through.” But the truth was, he wasn’t sure if this was a coincidence or something he was meant to see. But before he could figure that out, she glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen like someone was calling her and whatever conversation they were about to have had to wait.
Renee scribbled something on her order pad before hurrying toward the kitchen window. The cook, a heavy-set man with a sweat-stained bandana, barked something Matthew couldn’t hear over the clatter of dishes. She took two steaming plates, balanced them on one arm, and moved toward another table with the kind of practiced rhythm that only comes from years of doing the same thing. Matthew sat back, fingers drumming against the coffee mug in front of him. He wasn’t used to waiting for people to come back.
In his world, people made time for him, but here, he was just another customer in line. Finally, after dropping off food and topping off someone’s iced tea, she made her way back. “Okay,” she said sliding into the booth across from him for just a second. I know it’s been forever, but it’s definitely you.” She laughed lightly. “You even got the same serious face.” He smirked. “Guess I never grew out of it.” Renee’s eyes flicked over his suit, the watch on his wrist, and the way his shoes looked like they’d never touched dirt.
“You look different though, in a good way. So, where’d life take you?” Matthew hesitated. He knew what saying billionaire real estate investor could do in a small town diner. Conversations changed, faces tightened, people assumed you thought you were better than them. And with Renee, the last thing he wanted was for her to feel that wall between them. “I’ve been in real estate,” he said simply. “Keeps me busy.” She raised an eyebrow. “Real estate? Like selling houses?” “Something like that.” He took a sip of his coffee to dodge the question.
Her smile was polite, but there was something in her eyes, curiosity, maybe even suspicion. Still, she didn’t push. “So, you passing through Yuma or what?” she asked glancing over her shoulder again when a bell dinged from the kitchen. “Yeah, just a pit stop.” “That’s rare,” she said standing up again. “Most people who stop here are regulars, truckers, or lost.” He chuckled. “Guess I’m in the last category then.” She grabbed his menu. “I’ll put your order in. Don’t go disappearing on me.” Matthew watched her weave through the tables again, greeting customers by name, smiling even when the smiles weren’t returned.
