"Which kind of juice would you like, T. G.?" she asked, and smiled when he chose the grape.
"Maybe I can imagine it's a very young wine. And you?"
"Oh, I'm definitely a V-8 person. If I had made up this box it would have been all V-8. Although I suppose one could get tired of that, given a long enough period of isolation. And that reminds me; I must have a word with dear old Dad. By putting this stuff in my car, he set up the expectation of my becoming stranded and maybe even caused it. He should know better at his age. Oh well, I guess I can forgive him this time."
"I won't pretend to understand what you just said, Charly, but I thank your Dad from the bottom of my heart. I'm starving."
"Why don't you remove your tie, unbutton a couple of buttons on that shirt, and act like you are home by your fire, relaxing?" Shaking a handful of fruit and nuts out for herself, she offered him the jar, adding, "You do have a fireplace at home, don't you?"
"I do, yes. But how did you know that?"
"Because you look like a fireplace person." Popping a cashew in her mouth, she watched as he pulled off the tie and stuffed it into his blazer pocket. He unbuttoned three buttons on his shirt, giving her a glimpse of a hair-darkened chest and a gold chain gleaming at his neck.
Finding their relationship changing a little too rapidly for her liking, Charly began to ask him questions about the company she now worked for. He answered freely enough, until she came to one that threw him.
"Why did your last inspector leave, T. G.?"
She felt him stiffen beside her before the question was completed and knew somehow she had entered forbidden territory. He was silent for so long she was sure he wasn't going to answer, then began to speak.
"He was fired. You see, Miss Benson, he was spending time inspecting my dear wife when he was supposed to be out inspecting farms. When he left, she went with him. End of story."
"Oh, McKinnon, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have dreamed of asking if I'd known." Charly wished with all her heart that she'd done some research into the directors before now. She felt as though she were a Peeping Tom, looking into his life in a way that was none of her business.
"Don't be sorry, Charly. I'm only telling you this because you're going to hear it from someone else, and I'd like you to know the truth. The marriage was a mistake from the start. We were both too young and didn't have any idea what we were getting into. I wanted children, she wanted to party. He wasn't the first man she'd had an affair with, but it was the first time she was so blatantly indiscreet."