Chapter 192: They Gotta Be Crazy Rich

By the time I got back to the house, Ruby was standing by the porch in a modest, floral-print vintage dress with a fitted corset waist. It was a far cry from the high-end designer pieces she usually wore, and she looked completely out of her element, fidgeting nervously and rubbing her upper arms.

"I don’t know..." she muttered, tugging at the lace hem as soon as she saw me coming. "It feels so... strange. Do I look ridiculous?"

"Are you kidding?" I said, stopping in my tracks and giving her an appreciative look up and down. "You look incredible. That dress actually fits you perfectly."

Ruby’s hands instantly dropped to her sides. Her eyes lit up, a soft blush rushing across her cheeks as a huge, beaming smile broke across her face.

"Really?" she asked, doing a quick, playful spin on the wooden porch boards. "You actually think so? Honestly... I kind of love it too!"

We headed over to the diner as the evening sun began to set. When we walked in, Emiliana was already on the small, empty stage by herself, softly humming and rehearsing her pitch transitions.

She wasn’t shrinking back like she did yesterday. With her shoulders square and her head held high, the raw, natural power in her voice filled the empty room. The shift was undeniable—her confidence was blooming right in front of us.

Ruby immediately clapped her hands together, softly cheering as Emiliana hit a crystal-clear high note and wrapped up her warm-up. "Yes! That was amazing, Emiliana!"

Emiliana wiped her hands on her jeans, flushing with a happy, proud smile as she stepped off the stage toward us.

"Hey," I said, giving Ruby a nod. "You guys stay here. I’m going to go talk to the diner owner about setting up the real performance for tonight."

"Okay," Ruby nodded, pulling Emiliana over to one of the booths to give her a quick pep talk.

I turned around and headed toward the back office where the manager was counting receipts, ready to buy out the stage for the night.

I knocked on the office door and stepped inside. "Hey, about the stage tonight—Emiliana is taking the mic."

The diner owner looked up from his ledger, instantly scoffing and shaking his head. "Look, kid, those other girls have the Friday slot locked down. I can’t just—"

"What if I make it worth your while?" I asked, reaching into my pocket. "Name a fee."

Before he could answer or quote a price, Mrs. Gable pushed the door wide open and stepped into the office, holding his worn trucker cap in his hands.

"Put your money away, son," Gable said, casting a sharp look at the owner before turning to me. "He won’t be taking a single cent of yours."

The diner owner froze. Gable leaned against the doorframe, her voice low and steady. "I’ve sponsored this diner’s renovation and supplied its beef for ten years. I reckon a little favor in exchange for all my hard work over the years isn’t asking for much, is it?"

The owner cleared his throat awkwardly, backing down instantly. "Uh... right. Course not, Mrs. Gable. She can have the stage whenever she wants."

"Thanks, Mrs. Gable," I said, giving the old woman an appreciative nod as we stepped back out into the dining hall.

"Don’t mention it," Gable grunted with a small, rare smile. "Just make sure the girl puts on a good show."

Now the stage was ours, but a new problem was ticking away. I glanced at my watch—the evening rush was already trickling in, and there was still no sign of Sarah or the equipment.

With time running out, I started pacing near the front windows, wondering if my sharp PA had actually dropped the ball for once, or if I was going to have to hunt down a backup plan on short notice.

Ruby slid up next to me near the front glass, leaning her elbow against the windowsill and watching the street. "What are you pacing around for? What are we waiting for?"

I hesitated, rubbing the back of my neck. "Nothing, just... waiting on a delivery."

"A delivery? Out here?" She raised an eyebrow, about to question me further, when a sleek, unmarked black delivery van pulled up right to the curb.

The driver hopped out, holding a clipboard and looking around the quiet dirt road with a completely bewildered look on his face. He spotted me through the window and walked inside.

"Excuse me," the driver said, checking his slip. "Am I in the right place? I’ve got a priority rush delivery for a... Mr. Nahte? High-end studio mic and stage speakers?"

I froze for a split second, blinking at the name. Nahte. ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Then it clicked—it was just Ethan spelled backward. Sarah’s clever little workaround to drop the package discreetly without leaving my real name on a paper trail.

"Yeah, that’s me," I said with a smirk, stepping up to sign the digital pad and taking the heavy, foam-padded cases from him.

Ruby stepped up beside me, her eyes darting from the high-tech equipment cases to my face. "Wait... did you use your card for this?"

"Nope," I grinned, popping the latches on the main case to reveal a pristine, professional-grade wireless mic glowing under the diner lights. "Sarah took care of it. I ran into her in town."

Ruby’s eyes went wide. "Sarah’s in town?!"

"Was," I corrected smoothly, handing the mic over to her. "Saw her, handled it, and told her to turn the convoy right back around. Don’t worry, she’s gone."

"Okay," Ruby breathed, relaxing as she took the sleek, heavy mic in her hands. She immediately turned toward the stage and called over a couple of the local diner staff to help unpack the heavy-duty speakers.

As soon as they popped the foam-padded cases open, the guys setting up the gear froze, staring at the polished, high-end metallic finish.

"Woah..." one of the workers muttered, carefully lifting a speaker onto the stage. "Aren’t these ridiculously expensive? I’ve only ever seen gear like this in big concert videos."

"Yeah," the other guy whispered, looking over his shoulder at Ruby and me like we were alien royalty. "Where did they even buy this stuff?"

Within minutes, the entire diner was buzzing. Whispers rippled through the booths as customers leaned in across their tables, stealing glances in our direction.

"I told you," a woman near the counter murmured to her friend. "I saw a whole convoy of dark SUVs lined up down Main Street earlier. They gotta be crazy rich."

I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing my temples as the unwanted attention grew. "Great... they’re going to end up spoiling the whole vibe of the day."

Ruby stepped closer, giving me a reassuring nod as she tapped the mic. The crisp, crystal-clear sound check feedback hummed through the diner, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

"Ignore them," Ruby murmured with a confident smile, handing the mic off to Emiliana. "It’s all set up. Time for the main event."