She had a soft, small laugh and a gentle voice. Calm and loving, she was a thirty-two year old coffee shop waitress with a degree she never used and a very sparse romantic history. She wanted a boyfriend for years but she was terribly shy and just didn’t know how to make a move, even a small one. So she made small talk with strangers all day, knowing she’d never see them again and never really being challenged to go outside her comfort zone.
About six months ago, the Officer who worked along the stretch of lonely highway that the restaurant she waitressed at was located, came into the Diner and introduced himself. He was in his late forties, she’d guessed, which would make him nearly 25 years her senior.
He had blonde hair, grey peppered lightly throughout. It was cut short but had obvious curl in it, and kinda of messy. He stood about six foot two inches, had broad shoulders and thick arms. It was clear he took care of his body. His eyes were an Emerald green which were set perfectly apart and he wore silver Aviators over them most of the time. His name was James, the older waitresses who knew him from when he worked this beat seven years ago called him Jimmy and sometimes Jim.