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Leigh looked on open-mouthed and confused when several of the workmen spoke to him.
“Fine, George, Burt. Say, Hal. You?”
“Fair to middlin’. Been on any interesting jobs lately?”
Chad cast a furtive glance at Leigh. “No. Nothing special.”
“I heard about the one in”
“George, I’m here to take my favorite lady to lunch. I don’t intend to waste her time or mine jawing with you.”
All the men laughed and eyed Leigh speculatively. Previously they had seen her only as a competent professional, but now, she realized, they were viewing her as a woman. She felt her cheeks grow warm as Chad draped an arm around her shoulders. Trying to regain control, she consulted her watch. “I… I guess now is a good time for lunch,” she said. “Meet back here in… let’s say one hour.”
“Let’s say two hours,”
Chad amended.
This brought on more laughter, knowing looks, and conspiratorial winks. Mercifully Chad turned Leigh away. “Where is your office?”
“By Sakowitz.”
“You’ll need your coat. It’s cold out there.”
“We don’t have to leave the mall. There’s a good salad bar in”
“That’s rabbit food. I’m hungrier than that. Besides, I promised Sarah I was going to fatten you up.” He didn’t permit Leigh to protest, but asked, “Where is Sarah, by the way?”
“A lady who lives near us keeps the children of working mothers in her home. Sarah stays with her on days when I have to work several hours at a stretch.”
“Oh, by the way,” he said, taking a slip of paper from his vest pocket. “Here is my telephone number. It’s unlisted because I’m out of town quite a bit. Why should I clutter up the phone book?” he asked, smiling.
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if and when she’d ever have occasion to call him.
“Feel free to use it whenever you want.” He grinned engagingly.
They wended their way among the shoppers—harried, hurried, or indifferent—to the small office the mall’s managers had provided for her use. It was located between the men’s and ladies’ restrooms and the pay telephones. When Leigh had retrieved her coat and purse, they started for one of the exits.
The truck was as cluttered and dirty as before and reluctant to start in the cold weather, but Chad pumped it to life and drove it out of the parking lot. He seemed to have already decided where they were going and didn’t consult Leigh.
“Chad, are you from Midland? How did George and the others know you?”
“I was born here and went to the Midland public schools all twelve grades before going to Tech. Most old-timers know me and my folks.”
She digested that piece of information, then asked, “Do you still live here?”
“Yes, but I travel a lot.”
“On jobs?”
He negotiated a left turn before he answered laconically, “Yes.”
She cleared her throat. “Just what do you do? George asked you about a job. Do you always work on airplanes?” She knew there were several charter services out of Midland. Many oil tycoons had their own planes.
“Well, sure, I do a bit of that.”
He braked the truck in front of a restaurant, swung open his door, and came around to assist her out. The wind beat against them as they hustled to the door of the restaurant. Leigh hadn’t paid attention to where they were going, but as soon as they went through the door, her nose informed her she was in a barbecue house. The aroma was spicy and potent and full-bodied, tangy with wood smoke.
From the jukebox in the corner, Willie Nelson begged mammas not to let their babies grow up to be cowboys. All the stools at the long counter running the breadth of the building were taken by businessmen in three-piece suits, roughnecks in oil-slicked jeans, and cattlemen in high-heeled riding boots.
