I had just arrived at work one muggy Friday morning when the intercom on my phone buzzed.

Catherine, could you please come to reception. You have a visitor. I slipped my feet back into my heels, which I had just kicked off under my desk, and slid my arms back into my suit jacket.

A quick check in my compact and I made my way to the front of the office building. I had no appointments or meetings scheduled. I had no idea who was here to see me. Probably some damn salesman pitching the latest and greatest office management software.

Two men, dressed in navy suits, stood near the receptionists desk.

One was short and compact with sandy blonde hair that looked stiff from too much hair product.

The other was much taller and had more exotic features.

He had dark skin the color of cacao beans and medium length black hair that lay in waves around his face. Oh crap, I thought to myself.

Were they from the IRS? The FBI? I had always heard about these surprise audits but never thought Id be faced with one. The shorter one spoke first, his voice had a slight Texan accent. Ms. Reynolds. So good to see you. He extended a hand that held a business card. I took the card and glanced at it. Elegant script printed on the card read: Darling Catherine. Do not be alarmed. Please accompany my men to the airport. I looked up and stared at the men, unsure of what to say. The Texan spoke again: Ms. Reynolds. We have a car waiting out front.

Your boss, Trina, has given you the day off and says shell see you on Monday. Suddenly my secretary shows up at my side and hands me my purse. What the hell? Shall we? The Texan motions toward the door.

I tentatively take a few steps forward. The Texan holds the door open and I walk through it. The taller man walks ahead of me and approaches a black Lincoln limousine. He opens the rear door and I settle inside. The Texan walks around to the other side and gets in, while the taller man slides into the drivers seat. Ok Guys, what the hell is going on? I stammer nervously. The car begins to move forward as the Texan starts to speak.

Ms. Reynolds, I can soft placeure you that you are in no danger of harm. Rather, you are about to embark upon a sensual journey that you have only dreamed about. Our employer has been studying you for months.

He is most anxious to meet you in person and make all your fantasies come true. I started to laugh. What in the world are you talking about? Please, just sit back and relax. There is nothing to be worried about. You will be very well taken care of. I reach into my purse to look for my cell phone. As I do so, I hear its distinctive ring but cannot locate it in my bag. Suddenly the Texan opens his hand and in it lays my cell phone.

Go ahead. Answer it. I look at the display. The number is unavailable. I press Send to answer. Hello? Hello Catherine. The voice on the other end causes my breath to catch. I have heard this voice before. Hundreds of times in my dreams and while I lay in bed late at night, touching myself in the darkest of places, writhing in pleasure. Darling, I do not want you to be frightened. I want you to relax and enjoy yourself completely. We will soon be together, and I am going to take very special care of you.

The Texan removes the phone from my hand before I can place it in my purse.

You will get this back on Monday morning, Ms. Reynolds.

The limo turns on to the Interstate and heads in the direction of the regional airport. Once at the airport, the limo is waved through ordinarily locked gates leading to the airstrip. We pull up along side a sleek white jet with gray and green striping.

The two men and I exit the limo and ascend the stairway into the jet. The pilot, to my surprise, is a beautiful woman with long brown hair. She nods and smiles at me and then returns her attention to the gages in front of her.

Another woman is already seated in one of the ivory leather club chairs. Ah, Ms. Reynolds.

We are so happy you are with us. She clasps one of my hands between hers and kisses each side of my face. She is petite with an olive complexion. Her long black hair is pulled back in a severe bun.

Her accent is distinctly Latin and rather difficult to understand. My name is Alina.

I will be your personal soft placeistant for the weekend. If you need anything, at anytime, you will tell me. Please, do make yourself comfortable. We will be taking off shortly. I nestle down into the soft leather of one of the club chairs and fasten my seatbelt. The two men take seats in the back, and Alina sits across the aisle from me.

Once the plane is in the air, Alina rises once again from her seat and goes to a small mahogany cabinet. She reaches in and pulls down a champagne flute.

Beneath the cabinet sets a small refrigerator that I hadnt noticed before. Alina pours amber liquid from a black bottle.

The bubbles threaten to spill over the edge of the flute. She hands the glass to me. I take a small sip, and my memory floats back to a wedding reception I had attended years ago.

It was the only time I had drank this particular expensive brand of champagne. And it tasted as much like liquid magic now as it did then.

As she closes the cabinet doors, music begins to pipe through unseen speakers. My favorite jazz singers vocals curl around my temples and massage my shoulders. I close my eyes and nestle back in the chair. After what seem like only minutes but is in fact a few hours, the jet begins descending. I look out the window at clear turquoise water. A chain of islands cuts a small path through the serene landscape. As the plane lowers, I can see a runway come into focus through the trees and hills on one of the smaller islands. The craft glides onto the runway and comes to a gentle stop. Two dark sedans wait near the runway.

The Texan and the taller man, whom I heard Alina address as Samuel, get into one car and drive off. The pilot, Alina, and I get into the other car. The pilot navigates the car down a small paved road flanked by lush foliage. I roll down my window and the fragrance of jasmine and coconut fills the interior of the car. We soon turn down a pebbled drive shaded by a canopy of palm and fruit trees. Suddenly the sky opens up, and I see a large modern home that is the color of clay pots situated on a hilltop overlooking the sea. The circular drive in front of the house encircles a beautiful fountain made from sculpted volcanic stone. Ms.

Reynolds.

Welcome to Bajacu.