Chapter 9: The Summer of 1991 Making plans

It may have been the lack of sleep, but I attributed my bad mood to Wanda. When she didn't respond to my knock on her bedroom door I burst into the room.

"Wake up and get ready if you're going with me," I shouted.

The lump in the center of the bed made a slight movement.

"Wanda, are you awake?"

The lump wiggled its ass.

"Be ready in thirty minutes," I said, and as I turned to leave the room the lump rolled over and Wanda's head appeared, grinning.

"Don't grin at me," I warned her.

"Make me," she said, widening the grin.

I walked to the bed and pulled the covers off of her. I don't know which one of us was more surprised, her because I exposed her, or me because she was naked. Her grin went to shock and reappeared before I could tell her to get serious.

Frustrated, I left the room without giving her another warning.

Thirty minutes later I was sitting in the car, with one eye on the front door and the other one on my watch. It was exactly six-thirty when she came out the door.

Wanda had put the thirty minutes to good use. Not a girl who would ever be confused for beautiful, she worked 'cute' to the maximum. Her confident smile as she came down the walk screamed; 'Look at me!'

She must have known I was in no mood to chat. That didn't stop Wanda. "Thank you for carrying me up to bed last night."

"You're welcome."

"Thank you for undressing me, too."

"I didn't undress you," I answered, not trying to hide my irritation.

"You didn't?"

She knew damn good and well that I hadn't undressed her, but it was hard for me to keep from smiling. "No."

"Are you sure you didn't ... you know..."

"I'm sure."

She glanced at me, decided she shouldn't risk pissing me off and sat quietly until I spoke. She had to wait quite a while.

"That's the building on the right."

Wanda looked at the building and then at me. "Why aren't we stopping? Where are you taking me?"

"You can't go to a construction site looking like that. It's a hardhat area. You should have worn pants and a shirt buttoned to the neck."

The black and white pleated skirt hung six inches above her knees and the sleeveless top dipped to show a generous helping of cleavage.

"I'm wearing pants," she protested, lifting the skirt to show me pink, almost translucent panties.

"Put your skirt down, Wanda. You know what I mean. The stairs aren't in yet. We have to climb the ladders between each of the floors. There would be zero work done if we let you walk around like that."

"I didn't know," she said, apologetically. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have packed pants."

"You brought two pieces of luggage and didn't pack a single pair of pants?" I asked, incredulous.

Her impish grin really pissed me off. "Are you taking me shopping?"

"I'm taking you to the Atlanta office for the day. They won't mind how you're dressed."

Naturally, the office wouldn't open for another hour. I stopped at a coffee shop and treated Wanda to breakfast; she wanted a plain bagel and orange juice. I had a bagel with coffee. We sat at a sidewalk table and watched the early morning traffic zoom by. Wanda became un-customarily serious.

"You better start being nice to me, Sammy. I can be a real thorn in your backside if you're not."

"What are you talking about? I'm nice to you," I countered. "I invited you to stay with me while you're here, didn't I? And, I offered to be your sounding board before you hop in bed with the next guy that asks you."

"You're a good friend, Sammy. It's the way you order me around like I'm a child that I object to."

"What did you mean about being a thorn in my side?"

Her laugh was sinister. "Twenty years from now you'll be the head of the company and I'll be a member of the board of directors."

I tried to laugh, but discovered I couldn't. What was she saying? Would she try to embarrass me by telling the other board members about the night I shaved her pussy and fucked her silly?

"Twenty years from now you'll be married to a stud named Derrick and he'll keep you too busy raising your six kids to be a member of the board."

"You'll see," she cautioned, making me realize how dangerous she could be. I would have to treat her with more respect and make sure she never became a member of the board.

Even with our stop at the sidewalk café we still arrived at the office before eight A.M. Rob Reardon was the only one there. I introduced Wanda as the 'analyst' from the home office and Rob as the chief of the Atlanta office. Perhaps it was just his southern hospitality kicking in, but I got the impression that he was aware of the Rowell's stake in the company. Rob was no dummy; he treated both of us with the respect he thought we demanded.

I waited for Marsha Rice, the leasing agent, to arrive before I left. Marsha wasn't much older than Wanda and they hit it off from the beginning. I suggested that Marsha could take Wanda on the same tour of our buildings that I had seen the first time I came to Atlanta. Wanda had other ideas.

"Sammy says I need to wear pants tomorrow. I was hoping to go shopping."

"I love shopping and I know just the place for pants! We'll go to Lenox Square and if we don't find what we want there we'll go across Peachtree Street to Phipps Plaza," Marsha gushed.

I told Wanda to call me when she wanted me to pick her up and went to the construction site where I explained what just happened to Neill. He laughed and filled me in on what transpired at the Monday morning construction meeting. He complained that we were falling behind the schedule.

"That means the ceiling work will slip into next year," I said.

"Not necessarily, but I haven't even thought about the ceilings."

"That sounds like you don't know who's going to get the job?"

Neill looked at me like he wondered why I was curious about the ceiling work. "I sent some requests for bid to local contractors, but haven't looked at them. What's your sudden interest in ceilings?"

"I met a ceiling contractor at a party last week. He said he sent you a quotation."

"Check the folder if you're interested, Sammy. Let me know which one should get the job," Neill offered as he left the trailer.

I found the folder and discovered four responses out of five requests for bid had been submitted. I spent the rest of the morning studying the specifications and summarizing the bids. Howard Carpenter, Vice President of Siler's Ceilings had signed one of the quotations. Howard's pricing was in line with the other three companies and he gave his assurance that his company could meet the schedule. He even included the names of three references his company had recently completed work for.

Later that day, Neill made a point of asking me about the quotations for ceiling work. I told him they were all in line, price-wise and none of the bidders took exception to the specifications.

"You realize those specs will change, don't you?" he asked, and when he saw that I had no comprehension as to what he was talking about, he elaborated. "Two of the floors are already leased and Patti has been talking to the tenants. Once their space has been planned she'll produce new ceiling specifications. That's why I can't get too excited about picking a contractor yet."

I was absorbing what he said when he spoke again. "You saw the ceiling work being done in San Francisco last summer. We used the contractor who could work to our schedule with very little notice. If your buddy can be flexible I'll be glad to give him a shot."

"Thanks, Neill. I'll check his references, if that's okay?"

"Be my guest," he laughed and that's how my 'buddy' got a shot at the job.

We didn't hear from Patti until the construction crews were leaving. I knew something was wrong as soon as I heard her voice, but she wouldn't tell me what it was.

"Shall I come by for you?"

"Not tonight, Sammy. I'll call you later, okay?"

I told Patti I would wait for her call and let her hang up without making firm plans. There was still the matter of Wanda. She hadn't called for me to pick her up and since I had told her to call me I felt obligated to be near the telephone. I went to Holly's house and waited. At seven-thirty the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Sammy, did you have something to eat?" Patti asked.

"Not really, I promised to pick Wanda up and have been waiting for her to call."

"Do you like Chinese?"

"Yes, but..."

"I'll be there in thirty minutes," she said, hanging up before I had a chance to respond.

Wanting to keep the phone line free in case Wanda called, I opened the August issue of Dining out in Atlanta. Smyth's photo and message were essentially the same as I had seen in the July issue. In other words, he was ripping the editor off. How much was the magazine paying Ambrose Smyth for this drivel? Just then, I heard Wanda's voice.

"Sammy? Come quick. We need help."

I met them in the foyer. Both Wanda and Marsha were carrying clothes bags and I could tell by the way they were swaying that they had been consuming alcohol.

Wanda stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek. "Be a dear and bring in the rest of my stuff, Sammy," she said before motioning for Marsha to follow her.

Marsha grinned at me and pressed her lips to my cheek as she passed. Although I was irate at Wanda for not calling to say she didn't need me to come after her, it was comical to watch them navigate the stairs.

I went out to Marsha's car and brought in the third clothes bag and a new piece of luggage Wanda had wisely purchased. By the time I got upstairs the girls were practically naked. I stood in the doorway, transfixed with the sight. In three seconds I took in the phenomena; their bodies, tits, ass, hair coloring and facial expression were near identical.

Marsha screamed and tried to cover her breasts with the blouse she had just removed.

As I stepped into the hall and closed the door behind me I heard Wanda try to quiet her new friend. "It's only Sammy. He's seen lots of naked women before."

A few minutes later the bedroom door opened and Wanda appeared, still naked except for a thin piece of material that partially hid her nipples and a thong that clearly outlined her slit. She skipped past me and as I watched her swing her bare ass, Marsha came out of the room, stopped to pose for me before racing down the hallway, shrieking.

The room was in shambles. I hung all three clothes bags in the closet and left the room, avoiding the bed, where new clothes had been strewn from head to foot.

Wanda and Marsha were out of control and there wasn't much I could do, except protect them from themselves. I took a seat at the kitchen table where I could watch them frolic in the pool. I was sitting in the dark with the blinds open and the French doors closed, shutting out their sounds, but not the view.

From my vantage point I could also see that Smyth had taken his position. He could hear them, but was unable to see what was going on in the pool. I was trying to think of a way to warn him to keep quiet when I heard the doorbell.

Patti came in carrying a large bag of Chinese food, and wanting to know whose car was parked on the drive. She was wearing a summer dress I hadn't seen before and looked tired, like she had had a rough day. I bent down for a quick kiss before answering.

"It's Marsha Rice from the Atlanta office. She and Wanda just got here. They've been shopping all day and must have stopped off for a drink or three," I said, leading her to the darkened kitchen.

Patti began unpacking the food and I switched a night light on in Holly's den so we could see what we were eating.

"Do you want to invite them to have something to eat? I brought enough for Mr. Smyth, too," she asked.

I took another look at the pool to make sure the two girls were still visible. They were, very.

"Do they look hungry?" I asked, pointing at the pool.

Patti snuggled into me so she could see what I was pointing at. "Oh, my," she sighed. "How do you tell them apart?"

I laughed and let my left hand dangle just below her breasts. Both girls had shed the tiny piece of fabric from their upper body and their breasts did look identical. "Wanda's the aggressor, but Marsha's holding her own."

"It looks like Wanda can't decide which she prefers, invading Marsha's mouth or trying to swallow her breasts," Patti observed, smiling for the first time since she arrived.

"Does Smyth look like he's hungry?" I asked, pointing out the little guy's head above the fence. He was straining to hear what the girls were saying.

"I'm hungry. Let's eat," Patti said, pulling away. I dug the rest of the food out of the bag while she went to get plates and silverware.

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked, and seeing her eyes brighten, I opened a bottle of Chardonnay.

It was after eight P.M. and I was hungry, but I only picked at the food, letting my attention be drawn to the girls. They had moved farther away from us to the shallow end of the pool. Wanda was leaning back, encouraging Marsha to devour her tits.

"It's bad manners to invade others' privacy," Patti said in a suggestive tone.

"I'm watching to make sure they don't drown" I said, defensively. "They were drunk when they got here."

"Does it look like they're in danger of drowning?" Patti asked.

The shallow end of the pool was some distance from us and at first glance it appeared to me that one of the girls was missing. I became alarmed for a second until Wanda came into view. She was strutting slowly, clearing the water with her knee with each step.

"What the hell is she doing?" I asked.

"It's a ritualistic dance. She's stalking her prey," Patti quietly informed me. She was leaning into me and I noticed her breathing had quickened.

"Marsha looks nervous," I observed.

"She feels cornered, like a rabbit that knows the hounds are closing in."

"It doesn't have to be that way. Why doesn't she jump out of the pool or swim away from Wanda?"

I felt Patti's breath on my neck. "Perhaps she doesn't want to escape."

I turned my head and found her lips waiting. Her tongue was a mixture of hot mustard and chardonnay. "We can see better from my room. It'll be dark and they won't know we're watching," I suggested and felt her nod her approval.

By the time we got to my room Patti had me down to my shorts and she had shed her shoes. I took a look out the window to see Marsha seated on the side of the pool and Wanda standing in front of her. Smyth had moved up a rung on his ladder, listening intently.