Through his Long Island iced tea, Cole catches a passing glance of her; in a blue dress that's practically painted on with a pair of heels she actually knows how to walk in, making a pitch to a gentleman at a booth across the room. "She looks too good for a place like this," he convinces himself as he turns back to the bar forgetting to pocket his wedding band. He knows his workers will be there later, he just needed an early start. They were homeward bound tomorrow morning so having a few too many drinks was a luxury they could afford tonight. Working out of town had its perks. After all, it's not like their wives or better halves would care (or even know for that matter). After a few minutes of light chat with the bartender he notices that she's now left the booth. Right at that moment, he hears a sultry voice behind him, "Hi, stranger. I'm Ruby." She saunters over to the stool next to him with a gait that would ensnare even the strongest-willed man and sits down with her legs crossed. He shoots her a disaffected look and replies, "Hi, stranger. I'm married." "What, does that mean we can't talk," she snaps back as she hand waves the bartender away. Cole was unsure of what was stopping him from acquiescing to her charms. This was usually the sort of thing he had to try harder at. Something was amiss, but she persisted, "You're the only real man in this joint. Puts you on my hit list. What are you up to later?" "I should be asking you the same thing. Got to keep my strength up for the drive home in the morning. So if you got something to sell, you're wasting your time," Cole replies, quickly calling over the bartender over to pay his tab. "Not for sale. You just look like you could use some company," she replies. "I appreciate it but I'm sure there are other, more qualified guys that need it more than me," he says as he slides his Carhartt jacket back on and lifts off the bar stool. "Your loss, space cadet. I'm a keeper. I'll find a real man in this place before the night's over." "Got to be a real woman first, sweetheart," he says shuffling through the crowd, towards the door.
The whole exchange just made him feel uncomfortable not because of how she looked but what was holding him back the whole time. There was nothing inherently about her that gave him any reason to resist. He just did. "Whatever," he says to himself and proceeds to pass out in front of some trash TV with a half empty bottle of Jack as the night comes to a close. Cole is awakened by earth-shaking knocks at his door. Without looking at the clock he senses it's too early in the morning. As he groggily opens it, he's met by Frank and Clarke, two of his employees both holding up a scrap piece of paper with handwriting that look too good to be a man's. "B-boss," Frank's voice quivers as Cole snatches the note out of his hand. It read:
"Just know it's already too late for you. I have full blown aids and now you got it like I got it. Now you're a victim just like me."
-Ruby
When his eyes meet the heart she signed next to her name, Cole's own heart leaps into his throat as he recalls her face and the bullet he knows he dodged. In a voice just barely above a whisper, he orders, "Get your things together. We're gone." He shuts the door and hesitates for a brief second. They didn't even take rest stops on the way home.
Several months later, Cole hears the priest's last rites to Clarke as a coffin is lowered into the ground. He's a bit more familiar with the sermon after hearing it said for Frank not too long ago. As they approach the car, he slides his arm around his wife.
These days, Cole forgets to pocket his wedding band more often than not.
