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The imaginary sultan (for that is who would invariably reveal himself to be) was impeccable in his attention to detail. Everything was accounted for in the retelling of her kidnapping. She was never alone — sultans had harems, naturally (sometimes friends and sometimes the women who had looked at her in passing while their husbands struggled to pick out doorknobs). They would wear chains, or silken ropes which did not permit them to leave the area in which they lived. They might have sumptuous meals served in their locked apartments, be plied with wine and candies and gentle words for hours ... and eventually the sultan would swagger toward them, powerful and intent on having his way with his captured beauties. They never escaped. She didn't really want to; she knew.Every fantasy was similar. Jenni would struggle against her bonds while the sultan laughed, deep and menacing. While he ravaged her. His lips would bruise, his strong hands would hold her arms to the bed while he. Anyhow we were lounging around a pool one afternoon when this sharply dressed crewmember approached us and gave me a gold-colored envelope without a word. I tried to ask him what the hell it was but he just smiled and ignored me. Then he gave Mike one that looked exactly like mine before striding away."What is it, Daniel?" Alee asked pushing her sunshades back on her forehead."Beats the shit out of me," I shrugged turning it over a couple of times. The only thing on it was my name in what looked like hand-lettered calligraphy. "You got any idea what it is, Mike?" You could always open it, Boss," she answered. She'd done exactly that with hers and was reading the card it contained. "But I don't think it's going to answer your question."Grumbling I expended the energy and opened the damned envelope."What is it, Danny?" Lidia whispered craning her neck to look at it herself."It's an invitation for me and two guests to attend a special event tonight," I said puzzled."What event?" Alee.
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