Darlene had barely walked into the employee entrance door when she was grabbed by the arm by Gina, her friend, and co-worker.

"Dar, that guy that was asking about you last week is back," she announced excitedly.

Darlene continued to head to her locker to get ready for the evening as her friend prattled on. Darlene smiled at how excited her best buddy was. She, herself, didn't get excited about too much anymore.  Darlene entered the locker room with Gina on her tail sill talking a mile a minute.

Darlene had been on her vacation but had heard from Gina that a man had come in asking if she worked here. Gina informed him that she did work here but was on vacation. She added that Darlene would be back next Friday. The man tipped her a fifty dollar bill and departed.

"He didn't even stick around for a drink," Gina stated.

Darlene opened her locker and removed her jacket, jeans, and t-shirt and placed them on the offered hooks. She slid on a pair of cheerleader briefs over her underwear; now she was ready to don the uniform of the club. The club she worked at was called 'The School Yard,' it was a theme bar that was housed off the lobby of a three-star hotel.

While the interior of the club was the run-of-the-mill polished brass and wood, it was the female employees that were one of the draws. They all dressed like school girls from an animated Japanese movie. They wore short plaid skirts, white knee socks and white shirts with ties. The addition of the cheerleader's bottom provided some degree of modesty while they moved around the room in such a tiny skirt.

The club also booked the best jazz bands in the country which the younger and rowdy crowds were not fans of. So the place was usually filled with an older well behaved cliental that actually tipped. Darlene finished dressing and checked her appearance in the mirror. Between her long blonde hair, blue eyes and copper tan she was truly stunning.

"OK, where did you seat him?" she asked Gina.

"At the booth seven," Gina responded.

Darlene looked at the clock, and it told her that she was early, really early.  For reasons she could not explain, she always seemed to arrive early. She entered the club that was still empty due to the hour and headed to the booths that ran along the two far walls. As she approached the man sitting alone, she took an inventory.

"Well at least he's not some punk kid or an old geezer," she said to herself as she climbed the two stairs to the upper seating area and drew closer.

 In the illumination of the small recessed ceiling light, she spotted a Rolex watch on his wrist. It was a real one and not a clever knock off. Years in this business had taught her to spot the cheap from the expensive. The same thing held true for his suit; it was not an off the rack selection.

"He was no male model, but he isn't bad looking, " she told herself.

When she finally stood in front of his table, she noticed that his eyes were locked on her eyes, another good sign. Normally, the men's attention was fixed on her hemline or glued to the front of her blouse.

"I hear you're looking for me?" she said to the male.

"Are you Darlene Canilucci?" he asked.

"I haven't been called Darlene in years. My friends call me Dar or Dar-Dar," she informed him.

"Can you sit?" he asked.

"I can," she responded.

She took a seat, and the end of the booth's bench seat and the man slid away from her, so he was now sitting across the small table from her.

As she sat, the hemline of her skirt inched higher on her legs, but the man took no notice of it. He withdrew a leather binder from his right side and placed it on the table.

"Please tell me that you're not going to serve me with a summons," she stated at the sight of the folder.

"I'm not," he responded with a laugh.

From inside he removed an 8x10 piece of glossy looking paper and set it on the table in from of him. He then spun it around and pushed it toward her. Darlene looked down, and her eyes grew wide. There on the table before her was a black and white class photo from her kindergarten days.  

There she was in the back row with her curly hair in ribbons and a big smile. As she ran her fingers over the image of the pretty little smiling girl, her eyes grew moist. Before she could comment the man produced another photograph, this was a group photo of her first-grade class. Soon six photos were sitting on the table.

"Was I ever so young and innocent?" she asked herself, as she examined the photos

The last one was of her sixth-grade class. It was smaller than the others as it was the first year they had used color film and the process was still on the pricey side. It gave a hint of the beauty she would soon become as she had begun to fill out faster than her friends.

"Where did you get these?" she asked.

"They are mine. These are copies of the originals," he responded.

The man deftly stacked the pictures, she had already perused aside and produced different ones. These were individual junior high and senior school pictures. The days of the class photos were long gone. Now the only group shots were with the clubs that you had joined

She remembered the day of the class photos. As a little girl, she was excited about the school photos and spent a great deal of time picking out a dress. Her Mother spent as much time fixing her hair. By the time junior high rolled around, Dar thought the pictures were a waste of time and money, but her Mom insisted.

 The large photographs were given to family members and the smaller ones she could give to whomever she wished.

"Where did you get these? Only my parents got the larger ones," she stated.

"You always gave me a small one. I simply had it blown up," he responded with a polite smile.

"Who the are you?" she asked with mild curiosity.

He fanned out the early class photos and pointed to the little dark haired boy in each one. Sometimes he was clad in a suit and bow tie; latter ones had him in a nice dress shirt and a tie. He always seemed to be in the front row.

"That's me. You probably don't remember my name, I'm Bobby Gorman," he informed her,

Darlene pushed through her long forgotten memories and was able to recall him; they had been friends. In the blink of an eye, she was back in the schoolyard at recess jumping rope with her friends. She even recalled the little ditty they sang as they jumped.

"Down in the valley where the green grass grows, there sat Darlene as sweet as a rose. She sang; she sang; she sang so sweet that along came Johnny boy and  kissed her on the cheek."

The girls always changed the name of the kisser to one of the boy's names from their class. They would then shout to the boys that were playing kickball whose name they had used. It caused much embarrassment to the group of boys.

As they left kindergarten and moved through the first six grades, they remained friends. She recalled sitting with him at lunch, being his buddy on field trips and walking home with him. The teasing they received was relentless. The day she allowed him to hold her hand as the walked was among one of her best memories of that early time of her life.

During junior high, things changed a little. She was no longer a pretty little girl; she was a pretty teenager. Now, there were more young men, that wanted to get close to this blue eyed blonde. Oh, she talked to them, but that's as far as it went. Her heart still belonged to Bobby. They attended sock hops, and formal dances put on by the school.

It was at one of these formal dances while awaiting their ride home, she leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. He responded by returning the kiss. Darlene allowed him to stroke the outline of her legs and budding breasts through her satin gown as they continued to kiss.

It was on the first day of senior high that things began to change in her life. She had spent the summer out of state, so Bobby didn't see her all summer. When she walked through the doors on that first day, he almost fell over. Her body had matured during her absence. She had grown taller and filled out even more. In fact, she looked more like a college student than a freshman.

Now the competition for the attractive girls was fierce. Darlene found that she was the object of desire to many of the handsome young men and soon she and her longtime friend began to drift apart. Oh, she still talked to him. However, there were no more dances, lunches or stolen kisses.

Darlene blinked her eyes and shook her head to stop the memory reel playing in her mind. She was once again sitting in the booth with her former school chum. There were one hundred things she wanted to say, however, before she could speak the cynical part of her personality took over.

"So you've spent the last fifteen and some years looking for me? Now that's a dedicated stalker. Do I need to be concerned?" she asked.

"Not at all. I was here for a meeting about two weeks ago and thought I spotted you through the glass doors. I wanted to come in then but was pressed for time, so I came back the next day and made inquiries. I was informed that you did work here but had taken a weeks vacation."

"So what do you want from me?" she asked.

"To catch up. I kind of lost track of you in senior high," he responded.

"That's because I had dropped out."

"But you were so smart," he stated.

"I was also so pregnant. I'm sure you heard the rumors," Darlene continued.

Bobby had indeed heard the rumors but had ignored them. 

"I tried to call, but your parents always said that you were not at home. I even dropped by your house once and got the same response," he informed her.

"That was their job. I didn't want to talk to anyone," she responded.

"So you have a child?"

"No. I had a miscarriage. Probably a good thing, as I had no idea who the father might me," she crooned.

Darlene was rewarded by the stunned look on Bobby's face.

"What's with the look. Don't tell me that you never heard the stories about me?" she asked.

"I didn't," he answered.

She leaned in closer and lowered her voice to a seductive tone.

"Do you want to know how old I was when I lost my virginity? How about how many times I had sex at one party and with how many different boys?" she crooned.

"That's ancient history. I just came by to see if you might be interested in having dinner with me," Bobby said finally finding his voice.

"You buy the dinner, but I'm expected to be dessert?" she questioned.

Bobby had no response, so it gave Darlene an opening. She spun the pictures around, so they faced him. She pointed to them as she spoke.

"You see that innocent little girl? She is long gone. That stunning teenager with her whole life ahead of her is also long gone," she informed him.

"Yes, I can see that now," he said standing up and placing the pictures back in the folder with less care than he had extracted them.

"Do you want to hear about my adventures as a mistress?" she asked.

"Not really," Bobby responded.

"It's a great story. I met him the night I was out celebrating landing my first job after finishing night school. We hit it right off. I was given an apartment and enough sexy clothing to fill Victoria's Secret store. He told me that he was in the process of a divorce and would soon be with me full time.

 I bought furniture and everything our love nest needed. While at work, we ignored each other so as not to feed the rumor mills. All was great until his wife found out and confronted me," she continued.

Dar brushed back her hair and showed him a faint scar at her hairline.

"The witch hit me with a heavy glass ashtray, and I wound up with a concussion. Apparently, the divorce story was just that, a story, I lost all the furniture and clothing and was forced to hire an attorney to get my stuff back. News of my antics made their way to the CEO's office, and I lost my job. It seems he told them that I seduced him and they couldn't have one of their junior partners cavorting with an underling."

"I'm sorry," Bobby responded.

"Oh, it got worse. They blackballed me, and I couldn't land another job. My parents allowed me to move back in with them and paid to put my things in storage. Things were just starting to get back to normal until they came home early from a party and found me entertaining a male friend on the couch and they threw me out."

Bobby could only stare at her as she spoke.

"My newest lover didn't so much as offer me any kind of assistance. That was after spending weeks telling me how much he loved and needed me. It seems the only thing he loved and needed was hidden under my skirt," she responded as a tear slid down her cheek.

Bobby again had no response.   

"If not for my looks and shape, I'd be working at McDonald's and not here."

"I am sorry for bothering you and bringing up painful memories," Bobby managed to respond.

Darlene also stood just as the manager entered the bar. He looked their way before heading into the back.

Bobby extracted a wad of bills and placed a one hundred dollar bill in her tip glass.

"That's for your time," he said simply.

He gave her a polite nod and headed to the entrance. He stopped at the waitress station where Gina was lingering and said something to her. She responded by sliding a large gray can away from the bar. He then emptied the contents of the leather case in the trash before heading out the door.

Ten seconds later that the club's manager Mr. Leeds was standing at her side.

"Where is he?" the manager asked.

"Don't worry boss. I got rid of that loser," she commented.

"You got rid of him? Do you have any idea who he is?" he questioned.

"No one important. He's someone I went to school with. His name is Bobby Gorman," she answered.

"Maybe that's what they called him as a kid. Now he is addressed as Robert J Gorman," Mr. Leeds responded.

He then extracted a book from under his arm and handed it to her. One the back of the dust jacket was a picture of him dressed much more informally than he had been today. He was dressed in linen slacks, shirt, and sandals and was seated on the deck of a yacht in tropical surroundings.

"I was hoping he'd autograph it for me as it's one of his earliest books. Your friend is one of the wealthiest men in the states thanks to his knowledge of investing. I have been to all of his investment seminars and have pretty nice portfolio going; I plan to retire at forty

Dar just stared at the picture without comment. It gave her boss an opening,

"Maybe if you read more than those bar happening newspapers you would know all about him. He has a residence here and in Florida but winters in Hawaii aboard his yacht. I was at his last seminar here where he told everyone that he had just seen his first crush and was going to attempt to track her down," her boss stated.

Dar felt sick to her stomach as he spoke. Her anger and resentment at the way her life had turned out had ruined an opportunity.

"His loss," she spat when she finally found her voice as she attempted to hand the book back to her boss.

"No, keep it and read it. You better start making plans now, or you'll be slinging drinks and prancing around in a costume well into your retirement years," he responded.

Dar headed to her locker where she refreshed her makeup and tossed the book into her carryall. When she returned to the club, she saw that the band as already set up. Soon the first patrons began to show up. Dar spent the rest of the evening laughing and flirting with the male patrons as she delivered their drinks.

She allowed them to stuff five and ten dollar bills into her knee socks. Twenties dollar bills and up she allowed to be pushed into her cleavage. She turned down numerous offers for breakfast and left alone at quitting time when she returned to her modest apartment above a local laundromat not too far from her job.

She looked around the room and was overcome by sadness. She took a seat at the kitchen table and wept silently. She couldn't seem to catch a break. Having been lied to and screwed over a few times left her with an attitude. She viewed any attempts of friendship as a precursor to getting her in bed.

 Dar finally slid her bag off her shoulder and placed it on the table; it made a thud sound. From inside she extracted the book her boss had given her, she had forgotten all about it. She stared at the cover for the longest time before opening it and was surprised that a folded program fell out.

On the program was a list of dates and places for his next seminars. There was one in two weeks from today in the capital. Maybe, just maybe she could convince her former friend that the girl he was fascinated with was still inside her. Maybe she would accept her invite to dinner and drinks where she would tell him everything.

She placed the book carefully on the shelf with the others and then headed off to bed. She dreamed of her younger days and the good times she had with Bobby. Maybe they would return. Only time would tell.