Chapter 20

Perhaps it was the strange bed — the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in, Sarah realized — or perhaps the fact that strange thoughts were still racing around in her brain, but she was awakened by a strange noise a little before six o'clock on Saturday morning. Listening carefully, the sound appeared to be coming from the deck outside her window. Quickly she got out of bed, slipped on her robe and opened the sliding door. Quietly, she padded barefooted out to the pool which, she discovered, was the source of the sound. There she found Kelly Taylor swimming up and down the pool.

Again Sarah was astonished. Kelly was moving with the speed and grace of a porpoise, and, she realized, with the same tirelessness. Finally after more laps than Sarah could even count let alone think about swimming herself, Kelly pulled herself out of the pool. When she did, Sarah realized the girl's body was utterly magnificent. She had a golden all-over tan and the most perfect complexion Sarah had ever seen. Moreover, her figure was utter perfection. The only odd element was the fact that her pubic area was completely bare. The only hair the girl had was the lovely gamine cap of dark wavy hair on her head.

Seeing Sarah standing there watching her, Kelly said, "I'm terribly sorry, Miss Duncan. I tried to be quiet, but it appears that I awakened you. Will you please accept my apology?"

Trying to make amends, Sarah replied, "Of course I will — if you call me Sally. Why do you call me 'Miss Duncan' all the time, anyway?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Duncan, but I cannot use your given name. I only address friends by their first names," Kelly said simply.

"But ... but ... but you call my mother, Ellie, and she's much older than I am." Sarah stopped herself and then said, "But of course! She's a servant, so..."

Kelly just slowly shook her head while poorly hiding an expression of utter contempt. "Is it something in the water down there in Washington?" she asked. "I guess drinking the Potomac River must get to you. Miss Duncan, you win the prize! In fact, you are about to retire the trophy from competition. Never in my life have I met a person who is so wrong, so often, about so many things! Last night at dinner, for example, it was all your parents and ourselves could do to keep you from sounding like a complete fool!

"Why do you think you were so constantly cut off in the conversation? It was obvious to all of us that what you were about to say would brand you an ignorant fool!" Sarah's eyes widened as she realized what had actually happened the night before. "But to your comment: Ellie Duncan is not a servant! She is a very close and dear friend who happens to have one of the sweetest cunts in the world..."

"The what?" Sarah exclaimed. "Did you say what I think you said? 'One of the sweetest cunts'? However could you know?"

"Because Nita and I just love to drink at her source," Kelly replied casually. "We do it all the time — in spite of her complaints. Actually, she just pretends to complain. She admitted one day that she really loves it, claiming that we are almost as good as having Sam eat her. We do it because her juices are nearly as sweet, and her cunt is almost as pure and luscious as my mother's. And believe me when I say that, from me that is the highest possible praise I am capable of giving anyone."

Then she just shook her head and asked, "Whatever happened to you, anyway, Miss Duncan? I can scarcely believe you are related to Ellie and Sam, let alone believe you could be their daughter."

Sarah gave up on the subject and then asked Kelly why she was up so early on a Saturday morning. She learned that Kelly was going to work — one of the PHA crews was working overtime and her fiancé, Kevin, would be working, too — so Sarah asked if she could come along with her.

Kelly was about to refuse, but then remembered that Sarah was a guest in their home. So in spite of her obvious reluctance, she agreed. But then she said, "Miss Duncan, I will be working at a construction site. To say the very least, it is not a very clean or tidy place. Do you have blue jeans you can wear? Did you bring any old clothes with you? I'm afraid clothing such as you were wearing yesterday would take a severe beating."

Sarah replied that she would be fine. Then she raced back to her room. There she brushed her teeth and then luxuriated in the remarkable shower in her bathroom. In spite of what Kelly had said, she put on one of the business suits she customarily wore to work. The fact was that she now owned no casual clothing. Again, the problem was the feminists: Any casual clothing would reveal her figure far more than they ever considered appropriate.

When she went out to the kitchen, she received another surprise: The kitchen table was beautifully set for breakfast for two, complete with a little bowl of freshly-cut flowers, and Kelly was at the range, cooking. A glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice was sitting at her place and Sarah drank it. Looking around the kitchen, Sarah asked where her mother was.

"In bed, snuggled close to your dad, I guess," Kelly replied casually. Glancing at her watch she added, "It's much too early for him to be fucking her ass off."

Sarah initially recoiled from Kelly's reply but immediately realized it was nothing but the truth. She persisted, though. "But she is the cook and maid. Why isn't she out here cooking?"

Exasperated, Kelly just shook her head and replied, "Because I'm the one who has to go to work, not her. Why on earth would any woman in her right mind leave a warm, snugly bed, where she's cradled in the arms of the man she adores to get up and cook? Besides, I think you'll find my cooking to be adequate."

Moments later, Kelly placed a plate in front of her with crisp bacon and the most beautiful fine-herb omelette Sarah had ever seen, accompanied by hash-brown potatoes. When she set it before her, Kelly commented that the work on the site was very physical so she needed the energy. She suggested to Sarah that she only eat what she wanted. A few moments later, Kelly sat down beside her with her own plate.

After taking a bite of the eggs, Sarah just closed her eyes to savor the incredible taste sensation. "My God!" she exclaimed. "This is the most perfect omelette I have ever eaten. Kelly, you are a marvelous cook."

"Thank you, Miss Duncan," Kelly replied. "But it's not nearly as good as one of Mom's. But since we have to get rolling, I'm afraid you had to take pot luck this morning."

Sarah didn't know what to think about the girl's comment. One thing was certainly true: Andy Taylor was a truly spectacular cook — but so was Kelly.

When they finished their breakfast — Sarah had eaten everything on her plate — Kelly cleaned off the table, washed the pots and pans and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Moreover, as she moved at the sink so briskly, it was obvious that cleaning pots and pans was something that Kelly did regularly. She wasn't just showing off for Sally. And this, in spite of the fact that she's going to work and there are two servants in the apartment who could easily clean up after she left, Sally thought.

Then Kelly led the way to the door, grabbing a jacket for herself on the way out, and holding Sarah's coat for her. "I hope we don't have a problem with your clothing," Kelly said as they rode down in the elevator. "We're taking a truck to work and I'm afraid its cab is none too clean."

At the lobby they changed elevators and took one down to the garage beneath the building. Sarah found a yellow and green half-ton pickup truck incongruously parked beside a green Rolls-Royce limousine.

"I guess they do look a little odd parked side by side, don't they?" Kelly commented after seeing the expression on Sarah's face.

In spite of the truck's beat-up appearance, it started up instantly and ran smoothly. While they were driving to the job, Kelly told Sarah about Kimberly Duffy and her incredible ability with things mechanical. "For some reason," Kelly concluded, "Kimmie just loves this truck. So now it's probably the most mechanically perfect, best-running pickup truck in the country."

As they neared the job site, Kelly said, "Miss Duncan, I think it would be better if no one on the crew knew the relationship between us. How would it be if I introduced you as a reporter for The New York Times? It's about as liberal as The Washington Post, so you shouldn't have any trouble. With that as identification — I'm sure no one will think to ask for a press pass — you will be free to talk to any one and to ask any questions you might want."

Sarah instantly agreed to Kelly's suggestion.

After parking the pickup in the corner of the job site, Kelly got out of the cab to be greeted by a tall dark-haired man who took her in his arms and proceeded to kiss her soundly. Watching the couple, Sarah Duncan realized she could almost see the electricity and passion flow between the young couple's lips. It was the most amazing and most beautiful thing she had ever seen. My God! she thought. Those two are overflowing with love.

When they reluctantly parted, Kelly brought Kevin Fitzpatrick over and introduced him to Sally. When she did, she mentioned, with a quick wink, that Sally was a reporter with the Times. Since Kevin knew she was Sam and Ellie's daughter, he realized that the identification with the Times was the party line for public consumption.

As she shook his hand — Sally realized that she had unconsciously returned to her formerly firm grip — she noticed how handsome Kevin was. He was six feet three with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes like Kelly's.

To Kelly he said, "Darling, the crew learned you were coming in. Since it's going to be so nice today, they're putting up two dollars a man per hour if you'll work nude. The crew numbers about a hundred this morning."

Although it was only mid-April, the day was bright and sunny and the forecast called for temperatures reaching eighty degrees. Kelly just cutely stuck out the tip of her tongue and returned to the pickup.

When she left him, Kevin called to a very big black man who came running over. As he approached, Sally thought he, too, moved like a trained athlete.

"Miss Duncan," Kevin said, "I would like you to meet David Wilson, the assistant superintendent on the project. Since I'm going to be running all around this morning, I'm going to ask him to keep you company."

Turning to Wilson he said, "Dave, Miss Duncan is a reporter for The New York Times. I have no idea what the Times could find interesting about us, but answer her questions and try to keep anything big from dropping on her head."

Wilson extended his hand and Sally looked at him closely for the first time. When she did, she could feel her heart flip. He was also about six feet three, appeared to weigh well over 200 pounds and had the most handsome face and the warmest brown eyes she had ever seen.

Kevin moved off, and as he did Sally saw Kelly again and her jaw dropped. The girl was stark naked! Moreover, she seemed completely unconcerned about her nudity, even sticking out her tongue at a group of men who whistled at her. When she did, they all laughed. Suddenly Sally realized that the laughter was not lewd or obscene at all. Rather, it just displayed good humor. Obviously, Kelly was highly regarded by the crew. But she was utterly dumbfounded as she watched the elegant young socialite padding around the construction site naked.

When Sally looked amazed, Wilson took her over to a mobile canteen truck — the roach coach, he called it — bought her a cup of coffee, and explained that it was a fund-raiser. When she raised her eyebrows in surprise, he explained that from time to time PHA Construction would have charity fund-raisers — the United Way, for example. "Today," he explained, "Kelly will raise about $800 for the current charity." When she asked, she was again amazed to learn that the current charity was the United Negro College Fund.

"But I don't understand," she protested. "Why doesn't she just write a check. She's loaded, I'm sure. As the daughter of Jack and Andrea Taylor..."

Her voice tailed off and she stopped when she saw Dave Wilson just sadly shaking his head. "Well," he said, "I guess I have to give the Times points for consistency, at least. You people are always wrong. Write a check, I think you said? Let me tell you something, Miss Duncan: Why do you think our fund-raising is so successful? It's because we work on a four-for-one matching program! Let's take the $800 from this morning, for example. Kelly — and Anita and Andy and Jack — will each match it with their own money.

"So you see, Miss Duncan, working on the job naked will cost Kelly $800 of her own money. Why do you think she stuck out her tongue? What this means is that just what Kelly is doing today will add $4,000 to the company contribution!"

Sally's jaw dropped when she learned that two days earlier Andy had worked naked for the entire day with the full 1,500-man crew for $3 an hour. "That was $180,000 in one day!" he exclaimed. "Incidentally, the annual dinner-dance of the United Negro College Fund is being held tonight at the Waldorf-Astoria. Would you like to come with me as my guest?"

Sally was surprised but astonishingly overjoyed at the invitation. To her amazement, her heart had flipped at David's invitation. When she quickly accepted, he added, "There's one thing, though. If one word of what happens tonight appears in your paper, I will be after your head!"

He went on to tell her that the Taylors were being honored by the Fund for their incredible generosity. However, the only way they would agree to accept was on the condition that there would be no mention of it in the press. Ordinarily, press releases were widely distributed, announcing the recipient of the annual award so that the donors could bask in the public praise. "But not the Taylors," Wilson concluded. "Never the Taylors! I have never seen a kinder, more generous family in my life, yet one which avoids any mention — let alone recognition — for all that they do. The family is really one of a kind."

Once again, Sally was feeling lower than a snake.

As they toured the job site, Sally was impressed. She could almost literally see the giant structure — a new office tower — rising before her eyes. Wilson told her that the crew was about half the size of a normal crew on a project of its size, but at the same time its productivity was about double that of an ordinary one. Sally realized that there was not a soul standing around. Everyone was working hard and apparently working very efficiently.

When she asked David about it, he took off his hard-hat and held it in his hand. Like the pickup truck, it was painted yellow with the PHA logo in green. While it looked almost brand-new, Sally assumed it was a function of the fact that he was a manager. When she said that to him, he shook his head sadly, chuckled, and told her to look at the other men and women on the site. When she did, she noticed that their hardhats all looked brand-new, too.

Then he told her that the reason was that the PHA hard-hat was the greatest status symbol in the entire construction industry. "If you wear one of these," he said, "You are good! — you're one of the very best in the business. The people all know it, too. That's why they all polish theirs at least once a week. But you'll see the difference later, I guess," he added.