Blossoming Beauty

I felt guilty, like maybe I had put her up to all this trouble somehow. But it was in these times of self-reproach that I tried to drag myself out of the swamp by reminding myself that she was an adult woman and could sleep with whomever she damn well pleased. She was 18, perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

And our affair had not been free of consequences for me, either.

Katie's father, Martin, whom I worked for, noticed my missing work frequently during the day. He had called me into his office three days ago to scold me for the "decline in professionalism" I was displaying. I knew he was right, of course, but that small, cute, temptress of a daughter he had, my God, I wouldn't have been in my right mind to turn down what she was offering me. His daughter was irresistible. It was a price I was willing to pay. I still had my job, but Katie drove me to distraction.

I would watch her body swaying back and forth as she walked, and it was at moments like that I was reminded that she was a woman. But when she looked up at me with those big blue eyes, smiling, searchingly, so innocent in their quest, my knees couldn't help but buckle at her demands.

I knew I had already dipped my toe into dangerous waters, and I was ready to go deeper still. I may have been a 35-year-old man, wise to the ways of the world, but, at heart, I could still have the naivete of a boy. I had dreams for her and I, even if she did not. And at night when she and I were not together, my imagination was limitless.

That night, I asked her a very important question.

Part Seven: Katie's Narrative

Jack had given me a lot to think about with his question. He had asked me, in very subtle and quiet words, if I could do the honor of being eternally his. I was so shocked by the proposal that I could hardly eat the chicken, vegetables, and salad he had prepared at his house that Saturday night.

In my more lucid moments, I reminded myself how much I wanted to go to college, to be a career woman. But in the more sensual moments, when I was in his company, he'd glance in my direction with that owlish grin of his and I knew I was his slave. He had turned me into a slut (a highbrow one, at that), and I felt powerless against his taut masculinity. I was powerless but also wordless: I hadn't yet given him an answer.

The following Friday night was my father's retirement party. What a smash! There were dozens of people there gathered outside on our terrace: employees from the tennis center, friends, family, you name it. The house - both the interior and exterior - were decorated with streamers and balloons. Champagne bottles were popping, and people were laughing gleefully and burping instinctively, already high on drinks and ideas for the upcoming summer.

In the throngs of people, Jack and I attempted to keep our affair secret, only talking occasionally out in the open and in a very platonic, friendly way. He was dressed in a very dapper, dark blue suit, his hand almost constantly glued to the inside of his pocket. I couldn't help but notice this quirk of his - it was hard to stay away from him when he was in such close physical proximity to me. I just wanted to run my girlish, soft hands over his chest and kiss him as if he were the only man in the world.

It was a grand event. In addition to the champagne, there were tables of food spread out on the lawn: ham, turkey, chicken, cheese, crackers, and fruit, and a great big roast that was being prepared to feed all the partygoers.

At some point in the party, we all seemed to congregate to our giant deck in the back where the baker wheeled out a great big, tall cake in celebration of my Dad's retirement. It was chocolate with vanilla frosting, decorated with purple and blue icing: a many-layered affair.

We gathered around the cake, licking our lips, already hungry for the gigantic sweet. Before anything could be said or done, Jack put his champagne glass down and went over to the cake. He picked up the knife and poised it over the cake. He grinned sheepishly, almost shyly, and looked in my direction. "What do you say?" he asked.

I was beaming brightly, knowing what he was implying. The crowd that had gathered around were watching with justified confusion their faces, eyeing us silently. I walked over to Jack and looked into those beautiful green eyes that I had fallen in love with. I was hesitant at first, but then I softly placed my hand on his, and together we cut the cake, giving him the answer he sought.