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The Gulfstream G150 jet swiftly made its way across the twilight skies. Its cabin was business-like with high backed leather chairs, flat screen monitors, desks and tables of varying sizes. Everything a titan of industry could require in his travels.

But on this flight, the interior lights were largely dimmed and only a solitary passenger was aboard. She sat in the black leather chair and looked out the window as the last rays of sunlight began to disappear. She sipped ginger ale from glasses imprinted with the company logo and then looked down at a copy of Business Week magazine that had been left aboard. Amidst the cover's headlines was one that caught her eye.

"America's Ghost Towns: The Next Land Boom?"

She idly began to flip through the issue until she saw the story. It was definitely about towns that had largely been abandoned by industry, were slowly dying, but ripe for new business opportunities.

One photo and its caption made her stop.

"I know this town." She said quietly to herself.

Rocky Hill, Texas was an oddity in so many ways. No one could recall how a town could be called Rocky Hill when there were no hills and few rocks. It was largely flat and dusty. At the end of one street was the Super Chief Café, named for the famous transcontinental train that used to stop in town on its way to or from the west coast and open 24 hours. Billy Bob Hutchinson, its owner, had wisely added a Texaco gas station next to the café, cashing in on a fuel they sold called Super Chief. When the Super Chief train made its last run, he kept the station/café open even with the diminishing business. It made for a yearly write off on his income taxes, nothing more. The locals had taken to calling it "the Super Cheap Café".

A solitary girl walked the empty streets to her waitress shift at the café. She was short with thick black hair that she'd tie back when on duty. She wore a light blue uniform that felt tight on her body at times. It had belonged to a previous employee who wasn't as "blessed" in certain areas as the current owner was.

Her name was Laura.

Though she usually worked a variety of shifts at the café, more often than not she got the overnight shift where the clientele consisted of the occasional long haul trucker on their way to Dallas or further west looking for an extra bit of coffee to keep them going for 100 more miles, or line workers for the phone company. But for the most part, she was on her own listening to the radio and wondering what was down the road that led out of town, to the Interstate highway, to parts unknown.

By 11 PM, the café had seen the last of its regulars and she'd be on her own until the early morning breakfast crowd arrived. To say things were quiet was putting it mildly. She leaned against the counter trying to decide how to spend the next few hours. All the dishes had been washed by the previous shift, the coffee was brewed.

But this uniform was just too damn tight and wearing a bra underneath probably didn't help matters either. She took a look around the empty café and then outside the front door, nobody in sight, good. She immediately unbuttoned the front of her uniform and unlatched her bra, the rush of "being free" as it were felt great. She doubted anybody would care if she kept it off. Hell, she could probably do her shift totally naked and it wouldn't make any difference, it was so slow tonight. And a gentle night time breeze felt wonderful on her breasts.

Good sense prevailed and she quickly re-buttoned her uniform.

She got a coffee for herself and sat outside and took in the quiet night air. In the distance she saw headlights far off down the main road. But they seemed to be taking a long time to get closer.

The headlights she'd seen belonged to a sputtering VW van that pulled into the parking lot. It was smoking out of the back end. Its driver quickly got out and opened up the back, quickly being engulfed in smoke and steam.

"Are you OK?" she called to him

He waved off the smoke

"Yes, I think it's an oil leak. You don't have a mechanic round here, do you?"

"Not until the morning." Laura said as she walked over.

"Well, guess I'm stuck here. Is there someplace I could park until the morning?"

"Sure, over there by the sign." she said pointing to the weathered Texaco sign.

"Good enough." He said "Oh, I'm John."

"Laura." She said as they shook hands "Park your van and I can get you some coffee, maybe a burger?"

"That'll be perfect. I've been on the road for a long time."

John eagerly dug into a cheeseburger and fries.

"Where are you heading?" Laura asked

"California, a friend of mine has a house there he's restoring and he needs all the help he can get."

"Wow, I'd love to go out there. It must be nice."

"Uh-huh, the house is a big one too." He said as he took another sip of coffee "How long have you lived here?"

"Too long."

"So...what keeps you here?" he asked inquisitively "You never wondered what's out there?"

Laura thought long and hard Tekirdağ Escort for an answer

"I don't know, not much, I guess. Not much opportunities here so I guess I'm stuck."

"Could you leave if you wanted to?"

"You mean, like, move out of state?"

John nodded

"No, I-I couldn't" she said hesitantly "My Aunt still lives here and she'd be lonely."

Laura knew that was a dumb answer. Her Aunt Rosie was something of a character in town and anything but lonely. She and Billy Bob had had a fling years ago and she believed he'd leave the café' to her if he died, then she could cash in on the property and sell it. The gossip in town had been that oil speculators had been in the area a few times so she figured it was only a matter of time before he went to that "goldmine in the sky" as it were, and whatever riches lay under the cafe` would be hers.

"You're right, it's tough leaving family behind." John said as he finished the last bit of the burger "Well, I'm gonna get some sleep."

"Where?"

"Oh, in my van, it's kind cool. You wanna see it?"

Laura thought for a minute

"Um...OK."

The side door of the VW slid open revealing a mattress that seemed custom-fitted to the dimensions of the van. He had some thick pillows and blankets scattered around. A makeshift curtain stretched around the windows and effectively dimmed the inside. Multicolored Christmas lights were around the top and small speakers were mounted in the corners.

"Hey, this is kinda neat!" Laura said as she looked in

"Yeah, I got a friend back home who's a whiz at engineering stuff like this. I wish he'd worked his magic on the engine."

"Can you fix it?"

"Probably, it's gotten me this far, I don't see why it won't go all the way."

Go all the way.

It had been awhile since she'd heard those words, even when innocently used like now. Laura knew she had a killer body, though it embarrassed her sometimes. Auntie Rose said otherwise and she should know. In her younger days she'd worked the burlesque circuit around Texas. It was how she'd met Billy Bob and several other men whose status was known by the size of their hats and the age of their Cadillac's. Not to mention the size of their wallets. Other than some unmemorable encounters in the back of Junior Murphy's pickup, Laura's love life wasn't much to speak of. But she had ways of relieving whatever romantic longings she might have. Auntie Rose had a shower massager installed some time back, supposedly for "medical reasons". While Rose slept off whatever excesses she'd had from the night before, Laura secretly enjoyed some long showers, the massager between her legs.

John climbed inside and pulled out a small metal box.

"Feel like a smoke?" he asked

"Is that, um..." she asked hesitantly

"Uh-huh, it's grass."

"You better not, the sheriff sometimes stops by to check in on me."

"Oh, got it." He quickly hid the box under some clothing "I've got some regular cigarettes."

"That's OK, I don't smoke."

"Then...what do you do?" he asked as he leaned against the door frame, one leg on the ground the other propped up on the van's floor boards. And a look of temptation on his face

Laura wasn't sure how to respond.

"Um...I don't...I don't really know." she said with a bashful smile. She knew he was smiling back at her.

She also knew she was attracted to him, how different he was from anyone else she saw, what he seemed to represent.

It was only a matter of how to deal with the attraction she had to this stranger in town.

Just then, she saw the headlights of a patrol car as it pulled up to the cafe`. Out of it climbed Sheriff Taylor. He'd been Sheriff for as long as anyone could remember. According to him, he'd once survived a gunfight with Bonnie