The Memory of All That by Nancy Smith Gibson Page B

relationship. I used to come to the Roadhouse with my buddies. I’d have a burger and a beer and leave without a female companion. None of our girlfriends would be caught dead in there, but we liked the burgers they served up. I still do. And it was the macho place for guys to go.”
    “Yes, I thought the burger today was good. I didn’t remember the place at all, but I wouldn’t have felt terribly out of place eating there as long as you were with me. It was Jolene’s outfit and you telling me I dressed the same way that upset me.”
    David rested his head against the back of the chair and stared up at the ceiling. “Then a couple of years later a tragedy happened.”
    “Alice told me about the plane crash,” Marnie said, softly. “David, I’m so sorry. It must have been terrible for you.”
    “Yes, it was. Both my father and my Uncle John were killed, and my feelings of loss were not only emotional but also business related. They ran the plant together. The fact that they both died left a very big burden on my shoulders.”
    “And I was working there by then?”
    “Yes, you had gotten fired from the Roadhouse. When your mother died and you had no job, no way to support yourself, my father hired you, out of respect for Pamela, he said. You were kind of frightened then about how you were going to make a living. Your mother had been supporting you after you lost your job, and even though she had a little insurance, you worried about paying the rent. Dad thought highly of your mother so he gave you a job, with the understanding you would have to keep it yourself. That is, you’d have to be on time, show up every day, and do the work assigned to you.”
    “That’s only fair.”
    “Yes. All that happened a few months after I graduated from college and came back to be trained in the business.”
    “Is that when we started dating?”
    “No.” He smiled. “You’re still in a hurry, like usual. I’ll get to it. Promise.”
    She smiled back and settled into her chair, trying to be patient and let David tell the story his own way.
    “You would flirt with me, all right, any time you saw me. You went wherever the office administrator sent you. As far as I know, you did good work. The only complaint I ever heard was that you flirted with all the men, married or not, and the other women didn’t like that. When we met in the hall, you’d say ‘Hello, David’ in a sexy voice and give me a sizzling look. When we were around other people, you’d call me Mr. Barrett, and your smiles would be slightly less sex-filled. But it was obvious to everyone you were flirting with me.”
    “How did I dress at work?”
    “Your clothes weren’t inappropriate, exactly, but you knew just how tight and short and low cut you could get away with. You kept the men in all the offices in a constant state of arousal.”
    “Did I date any of them?” Marnie asked with a frown. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the picture David was painting of her.
    “Yes, some of the junior executives.”
    “Did I—” She tried to build up the courage to ask the question “—did I sleep with them?”
    David frowned. “I have no way of knowing for sure, but a couple of them bragged that you did.”
    She closed her eyes as she felt her cheeks flame in shame.
    “They could have been bragging, of course . . . just making it up to seem macho.”
    “But you believed it?”
    “Yes, I believed it. The way you dressed and acted made people believe it could be true.”
    “Did we date then?”
    “Not until after the plane crash. I made it through the funeral without falling apart, but when I was hit with the reality of managing a business that had taken two men with years of experience to run, plus deal with my mother, I couldn’t handle it.
    “Oh, I went in to work and did what I could, but I couldn’t keep my mind on the problems at hand. I started drinking more than I should have. That caused me to spend less time at the plant, less time