PART IV

I awoke feeling refreshed and alive. The sun was just coming up and the sky was the half-light half-dark of early morning. I rolled out of bed and into the bath.

Afterward, I headed into the kitchen. I looked around to see if Saeyong was there already, hoping I was going to get breakfast made for me again. Alas, the place was empty. I opened the fridge and checked it out. I wasn't going to starve - it was plenty full.

I spied the coffee maker sitting on one of the counters. Now that sounded like just the ticket. I found the coffee in the third cabinet I checked. The filters were in the second drawer I checked. I was getting better. It was a 12 cup model but I didn't expect an army. I half filled it, added the coffee, and turned it on. I was rewarded with the burbling sound of water and the smell of fresh hot coffee.

Back at the fridge I found some toaster waffles, my lucky day. Hey, I wasn't a trained cook. This is the way I ate at my apartment. Toaster waffles are civilization's solution to bachelor starvation. The toaster had four slots and the waffles were small. I popped in four.

As the waffles heated, I scrounged up some maple syrup, real Canadian maple syrup. Damn. I usually settled for imitation. This was my lucky day. A little more searching and I had a plate and silverware. I was ready.

I poured a cup of the coffee and burned my fingers getting the waffles on the plate. I took everything into the dining room and sat, looking out at the morning being born. I munched the waffles hardly tasting them as the morning sky painted the city in an endless palette of subtle colors. By the time I finished, day was born. Satisfied, physically and spiritually, I sat back in the chair and watched San Francisco come to life.

"Oh," I heard behind me.

I turned to see a beautiful blonde standing completely nude. I stared. She was gorgeous, her long curly blonde hair framing her face. Behind her was the Kandinsky so that she and it were juxtaposed. A thought flashed in my mind, 'Now there is real beauty - the nude female form. The painting doesn't even come close.'

"You're up already," she said. "I didn't think you'd be up so early."

"I'm not usually. Something about this morning though. I just got up." I stood up and said, "I'm Mike," as an introduction.

"Oh, sorry, I should have told you who I am. I'm Tara."

I once again noted that she was without clothes, pleasantly noticed I might add. I would have thought it more unusual had I not been standing there in the exact same condition, buck naked. 'Remember, you are in that parallel universe now, ' I told myself.

She looked at the plate and said, "I was going to fix you breakfast."

"Too late. I've already had a gourmet repast," I answered.

"What?"

"Delightful toaster waffles," I told her.

Curling her lip, she said, "You should have had something good."

"My dear, they were wonderful. Hit the spot."

She came over, picked up the plate and headed to the kitchen. "Do you want anything more?"

I followed, "Nope, I am fine."

She put the plate in a dishwasher before saying, "I was going to fix you breakfast."

"I'm sorry Tara. But I'm new here. I don't know the drill."

She stopped, then smiled and came over to me. She grabbed my face and pulled me into a kiss. "You're right. You had no way of knowing," as she let me go. "Do you mind if I fix something?"

"Heck no."

I leaned against the counter. The tile was cold on my bare butt. Tara pulled out pans and food. I had never had the opportunity to watch a naked woman like this. I was fascinated by the way her skin moved on her leg, the way her breasts moved, the vast expanse of skin on her back and the way it slid over her muscles and bones, the way her pussy peeked out from between her legs when she bent over. Having studied art, I knew the fascination of artists with the nude. Watching Tara move around the kitchen, I understood it as never before.

She looked at me, saw my expression and asked, "What?"

"You look beautiful," I told her.

A dazzling smile lit her face. "Was it something in particular?"

"Just watching you move around the kitchen. You could be a Venus or Aphrodite. What I wouldn't give to have you modeled right now in marble."

"Thank you. That's quite a compliment," she said.

"Please. I didn't mean to keep you from breakfast," I told her.

She went back to making herself some breakfast but I noticed her glancing my way to see if I was still watching. I wasn't trying to make her self-conscious but I couldn't help but watch her.

She had some mushrooms and tomatoes and herbs in one pan. In the other, she beat some eggs. In no time she had whipped up a delightful omelet, put some bread in for toast and poured herself a cup of coffee. I was wondering how these girls made it look so easy. Toaster waffles were a chore the way I did them. I followed her out to the table and sat with her as she ate.

"So, let me guess. Today is Tara's day to baby sit me?" I asked.

"What?" She looked startled. "Baby sit?" Then she laughed. "That's not how it works. One of us always tries to be here to do things. You know, whatever you need. Didn't Christine or Saeyong tell you?"

"Yeah, they sort of explained it. But it's possible they weren't wearing any clothes when they did and I probably wasn't really listening," I told her.

Tara laughed. "Does that mean you haven't been listening to me?"

I looked up as if realizing she said something, "What? Sorry. Did you say something?"

She put her hands on her hips. "In that case I'm going to go get dressed."

"Wait. I apologize. I beg forgiveness. Please don't put anything over that beautiful body. You are gorgeous."

Her face softened. "I bet you say that to all of the girls."

"I think you know better than that." I said. Our eyes locked for a moment and I felt a surge of closeness with Tara. I could tell she felt it as well. I reached across the table and our hands touched.

"I'm glad you think I'm beautiful," she said.

We were quiet for a while then I asked, "How's breakfast."

She picked up her fork and said, "It's wonderful."

We talked about nothing at all while she ate. I helped her clean up and then we went into the front room. We sat and talked for a while, just getting to know each other. We had been talking for awhile when I noticed again that we were both naked. I had started to not notice. I made a mental note of it. I was changing. I couldn't imagine anyone in my family sitting around the house without clothing and being comfortable about it.

While we were talking, I had noticed the binder Ms. Sharp had given me. I knew I should look in it. Tara had gotten up to do something so I picked it up. I opened it and started thumbing through.

She returned, saw the binder and said, "Looks like you'll be busy."

"I guess. Look at this thing."

Tara said, "Glad it's not me. Call me if you need something."

"Okay," as I went back to reading the binder. The front page was a financial prepared by a CPA firm. Each line had footnotes tied to schedules and supporting tables. I followed one note to a table with Bonds Owned: value, date purchased, maturity, interest received, interest due, discount amortized, etc. Another table, pages long, had Equity Stocks Owned. Then there were the lists of real estate, each followed by an income statement for that property. Oh yes, the REITs were there as well. 'What the hell is a REIT?' I wondered. Tax basis, cost basis, current value; my head was swimming.

I called Sharp. As soon as I told the receptionist my name I was passed on to Ms. Sharp. After the pleasantries I told her I was getting swamped by the binder.

"Don't worry. I don't understand all of the accounting either. That's why we use this firm. They do all of the accounting and tax work. We use another firm for investment advice and then check that with an investment advisor. So you'll always have a check and balance on anything you do. You can compare and contrast and combine advice."

I was feeling a little better. "That sounds fine. But I'm not sure I understand what all of this is."

She said, "It is just a list of assets and liabilities. Basically, what you own and what you owe. Jack used to be heavily in Real Estate and bonds. But due to tax law changes he is pretty heavy into stocks now. He hated giving money to the IRS."

I laughed, "Me too. Shoot. I'm no businessman. I studied Political Theory which has no application to real life."

Ms. Sharp said, "I know. And you could lose that money faster than Jack amassed it. Money is a free agent. It flows from laziness and stupidity towards work and intelligence. It's harsh but it's true. The reason why so many people aren't rich isn't some conspiracy keeping them down. It's their own limitations. But who wants to admit that? Imagine being responsible for you own condition."

I said. "That's exactly why I'm worried. Believe me, Jack and I had this conversation many times until he proved it to me. Political theorists don't generally buy it, but if you get down to the actual nuts and bolts, you find the world does work that way. Cost me a D on a paper from my Marxism professor."

"Take your time. We'll be conservative with your investments until you get a better handle on them. You can be very smart by hiring brains and using them. Smart people hire smart people and then let them work. You have quite a few smart people working for you. Let them," she finished.

We talked for a while more about some of the specific things I didn't understand. She said I should see one of their investment people about some of my questions. She'd arrange an appointment. I could meet them and they could start my education at the same time.

I felt a lot better after the call. I was still stunned by how big some of these numbers were. I realized there was a lot more wealth than I had realized. If I owned just this little bit of San Francisco and it was worth this much, how much would all of San Francisco be worth? The number was staggering. And that was just one city.

I was saved from endless speculation by Tara announcing lunch. Tara served up a little repast. It was fun sitting at the table with her, watching her. I hardly noticed what I was eating. There was no doubt in my mind that Uncle Jack had excellent taste in women. As we were finishing lunch, the buzzer sounded. Tara went off to answer it. I sat back in my chair and considered my position. It was nice having hot and cold running girls. But was I ready to have them do everything for me like these girls were doing? I hadn't answered a phone or the door or picked up clothes or really done a thing since I had stepped out of the elevator. Was that even healthy?

My thoughts were interrupted by Tara. "That was the lobby. The men with your stuff are downstairs. They want to bring it up. Go get into some clothes and I'll tell them to bring it up."

"Oh. I forgot about that stuff." I jumped up from the table and headed for the bedroom. "Thanks," I said over my shoulder.

I still only had the clothes I had worn to the meeting at the lawyer's office and the jeans the fellow had brought the first day. Somehow, in the morning they had magically washed themselves and then found their way onto hangers. Tara had been with me too much to do it. It was obvious now that there was a plan being executed. The girls were meeting me one by one. The book mysteriously appearing in my bedroom. The clothes were mysteriously being cleaned. One thing about it though, it wasn't a horror movie. There was no deep thumping portentous music and everything that was happening was gloriously wonderful.

I put on the clothes and headed to the elevator. Tara was already there in tight shorts and a skin tight knit top that hugged her tits. It was very obvious she was sans bra. Two burly guys were lugging some boxes on hand trucks. Their eyes were glued to Tara's tits.

She whistled, "Hey. Up here. My eyes are up here."

The movers glanced up at her, then saw me and smiled sheepishly. "Uh, where do you want this stuff," one asked.

"This way," I said and led them to the bedroom. "Just put the boxes over by the closet," I said pointing. There were six large cardboard boxes. I realized that on those two hand trucks was the sum total of my former life. It wasn't much.

They stacked the boxes and turned to leave. The second mover asked, "Is that your wife?" And then realizing how that sounded he continued, "I mean, we didn't mean to be rude."

"That's okay. She's not my wife. She works for me and to tell you the truth first time I met her I stared longer than you did."

"Lucky you," The first mover said. Both of their face's contained a bit of envy.

I decided to be a bit meaner. They deserved it. "Of course, she wasn't wearing any clothes the first time I met her." I turned and led them back toward the elevator. I hadn't looked at them as I walked back. I stepped to the side as we reached the elevator. Tara was holding it open. As the guys went by, their eyes went to Tara then to me. Before the door closed, I could see their eyes going back and forth between Tara and me. I had fucked with their heads, no doubt. As the door closed, I burst into laughter. I explained to Tara.