ELEVEN
Charlie entered the diner. The small bells strung over the door jingled, signaling her arrival. The place looked identical to when she had been there for her mid-afternoon interview, but there was something different.
The diner had more backlights that weren’t as visible during the day. A soft maroon glow traced the counter. There was also a maroon glow outlining the windows. The place was bright, not blinding. There was definitely an overall warmth.
“One?” The brunette waitress stood beside Charlie and smiled. She wore a “Vicki” name tag on her polo, and instead of the skirt Charlie had seen the waitress this afternoon wearing, Vicki had on a pair of black dress pants.
“Yes, please.”
“Table or booth?”
Charlie chanced a quick look around. There were some families in booths, an
