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didn’t know much of anything about this man but his first
impression certainly impressed me. I was at a time in my life when
I was very much open to exploring new directions but this was
definitely not one of the new directions I had imagined.
    I called one of my close friends who I
confide in for all of my trials and tribulations. I told her about
my chance encounter and asked her what she thought I should do. She
thought that I was crazy for meeting a man in a café, much less
agreeing to come to his home, but that it all sounded like
something she would expect from me. She asked me what I knew about
him and, of course, I told her absolutely nothing. She told me to
Google him and to call her back after I went through the first 1000
hits or so.
    As soon as I got back
home, I started up my computer, typed in his name and then
nervously hit the search button while I hoped that he didn’t come
up as a serial killer. Yet, he not only came up as who he said he
was, but he proved to be even more intriguing than I had imagined.
Anderson Norton worked as Chief Executive Officer for a company
called Hellman Defense Industries, was previously a Lieutenant in
the U.S. Army, was originally from Wyoming and had attended West
Point before going off to serve in Desert Storm and a number of
other military operations. It seems he was an Assistant Professor
for a few years and I found quotes from him in a wide array of
publications from Military Times to The New York
Times . His name was listed on all sorts of
websites as a recipient of this award and that award. It seemed
like he was the picture perfect specimen of the successful military
man turned civilian. So why was he interested in some woman he met
in a French café?
    I called my friend back and told her what I
had found. She was as astonished as I was but we agreed that it was
certainly safe for me to meet someone with such a public image to
protect. So I decided that that was that and I would walk into this
“interview” with the full belief that I was going to get this job.
At the very least, it would be a memorable experience. When else
would I ever get another opportunity to be hired as a housewife to
a dashing military man?
    The next day, I outfitted myself in a
provocative light pink shirtwaist dress that had 1950’s housewife
written all over it. It was subtly sheer but my tiny black g-string
underneath was definitely not. I jumped into my car and headed down
the interstate out of the city and deep into the exclusive suburban
neighborhood where Anderson lived. At the time, I was living in a
brownstone apartment in a hip neighborhood in the city which was
popular with post-graduates and young couples. I had only been to
the suburbs a handful of times to visit my married friends who had
moved to start families in towns with good schools and safe
streets. I had never been, though, to the neighborhood where
Anderson lived.
    I wasn’t really sure where I was going but
my GPS system seemed set on taking me down as many wide, tree-lined
boulevards it could find. I finally pulled up to this picture
perfect, two-story white Victorian house with a white picket fence
encompassing an enormous front lawn that was trimmed to perfection.
It was like a period piece of old-fashioned charm from a world of
suburban gentility I thought only existed in movies.
    I nervously rang the doorbell and after a
few seconds, the door opened. To my surprise, a young man stood
there wearing only a white bath towel, his firm tanned torso
glistening with water. He had obviously just gotten out of the
shower and he had pinned the towel in a bunch at his waist to keep
it around him. He just raised his eyebrows at me rather rudely as
if to ask me what I wanted.
    “ Hi. I’m here to see
Anderson. Is he your father?”
    He just looked me up and down as if to
ascertain what exactly I was dressed to do. Without saying
anything, he nodded his head for me to come in. He turned and
walked away as Anderson came up