It all started fairly innocently I suppose. Well, as innocent as this sort of thing can be. I have a great wife and a fabulous daughter. My wife Kate is beautiful and our daughter Angela inherited more than her fair share of good looks. Neither Kate nor I were hit with the proverbial ugly stick, but somehow Angela managed to become greater than the sum of her parts. Angie wasn't an early or a late bloomer; she was one of those lucky ones that just glided through that awkward stage and slid into her niche as a stunning young lady. Perhaps it was her natural sensuality that allowed her to exude a poise and confidence that it so rarely seen among people her age. In any case, she was intimately aware of how easily she could get what she wanted; it followed that she always wanted more. She loved the challenge of swimming upstream and pushing the bar. You could almost see the fire flare in her eyes when someone said that she couldn't do something, for whatever reason. She got that from me. I suppose at some point, when it was I have no idea, but at some point, she set her sights on me. Her father.
I came home on Friday afternoon and was promptly told to hit the showers because I was treating the girls to a night out. This was music to my ears because I had been back and forth between Japan and southern California for the better part of three weeks now. I hadn't spent more than 48 hours with just my family in the last month and it had started to take its toll. My stress levels were only surpassed by my sexual appetite. I needed a night out.
Kate and Angie said they would finish getting ready and meet me down stairs. I had pushed myself hard at the gym (swimming, lifting and running) earlier that day and the shower, brief though it was, felt wonderful. It was a warm summer evening so I wore a light pair of pants and a linen shirt. I've always looked young for my age, but now that I had just eclipsed forty it was much more of a blessing than the bane it was in my twenties. I knew the white linen looked good against my late summer tan. Satisfied with my efforts, I threw a trade mark smile to the mirror, then chuckled and quickly chided myself for the narcissistic gesture. Even at forty I had no trouble drawing sidelong looks and blatant stares. I laughed out loud and finally felt myself start to loosen up. I put a hand through my hair, stylishly messy and in complete opposition to my nine-to-five Armani rigidity. With a light splash of cologne I was set for my night on the town.
I hopped down the last three stairs and walked to the living room. Kate and Angie were facing me when I walked in and both of them broke into applause. "So this is the man inside the suit! Not bad for an old guy, daddy." It may have been the ladies applauding, but it was I who was stunned. I don't know where I had been or what I had been doing but some time between corporate mergers and investment strategies, Angela had become a full- blown woman. She was a symphony of beauty; a perfectly orchestrated combination of soft curves and firm lines. She managed to maintain the delicate balance between class, style and sex appeal with her simple summer sun dress. The thin material had just enough gossamer sheen to let you think that if you looked hard enough, you could see through it. I kept my amazement contained as Angie gave me a hug and a playful punch in the ribs as she sauntered past me to the garage. Kate smiled her perfect smile and took my hand as we walked to the car.
I took the long way to the restaurant, enjoying the latent warmth of the Indian summer evening. The sun had just set and the sky was still a hazy purple-pink. The big Mercedes engine purred as we cruised the coastline highway. Capped with foam, massive waves crested and crashed some three hundred feet below. There was a storm raging somewhere out on ocean. You could smell it in the air. But tonight was clear and fresh, just begging to be enjoyed. Yet I had no idea to what extent.
When we arrived at Marcello's Bistro we were ready to eat. As we got out of the car I noticed Kate running her hand through her long black hair. Her window was down on the ride over and wind gave her hair that sexy, tussled look. Angela walked around the car and I noticed her hair in much the same state. Without conscious effort I found myself wondering if that was how she looked after a long afternoon of sweaty sex. I immediately saw her in an old tee shirt, face flushed and hair all over the place, sitting on the edge of bed looking innocent and sexy all at once. I shook my head and blinked my eyes to clear the image from my mind. I focused on the door and made my way towards it, deliberately thinking of what wine to order. I definitely needed a drink!
The maitre d' seated us with a wonderful view overlooking the ocean. About four miles out the krypton beam of a light house zigged and zagged between the emerging stars. The moon was almost full and hung low and lazy in the sky. Kate and Angie were involved in some conversation regarding men's reactions to mini skirts and push-up bras. I was staring aimlessly at the looming moon, but seeing nothing but that unsolicited vision that I couldn't shake from my head. I suppose it was like telling someone not to picture a pink elephant … you just can't help it. I brushed it off.
