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"Where are we?"San Francisco. Come on. The limo's waiting, and we haven't got all day." Uncle Barry's tone sounds short and irritated, and I wondered just how much trouble I was in. But he began to chuckle once we were in the stretch limousine that would take us to Marin, and the reason for our trip. I imagine the scenery was spectacular, but I slept through most of it.Once we arrived, and my uncle had managed to wake me yet again, I was somewhat stunned at our surroundings. In my mind, I guess I was expecting something similar to the many sound stages that made up the studios we'd been at the previous day. What I saw looked more like a ranch scene from some Western movie. Uncle Barry steered me inside one of them, and I found myself face to face with one of the great American film icons, George Lucas. To say that I was in awe wouldn't quite cover it. Actually, it wouldn't cover any of it."George, I'd like you to meet my nephew, Keith Hayes," I heard my uncle's voice, and thought I. Stay still, the man warned her as he continued with it, dangerously close to her skin as he cut through the duct tape holding her thighs together, then the tape binding her wrists. He pulled the tape from her skin quickly, obviously a yank-the-Band-Aid sort of guy. Elizabeth whimpered in pain as the adhesive was torn, but was suddenly relieved to be able to move her limbs freely. She looked up at the figure of him standing over her, Th-Thank you, Master&hellip, He smirked at her, then pulled a key from his pocket and slid the knife back within his jeans. Kurt unlocked the iron collar from around the blondes neck and instructed her to stand up. She complied. But as she stood, her legs felt sore and weak and she wobbled a bit, nearly losing her balance. He caught her, realizing she wouldnt be able to function through the day without a bit of rest and recuperation. Kurt allowed Elizabeth to lean on him, leading her quietly up the stairway and then another until they reached her.
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‘Here you go,’ Antoine said, switching the subject by whipping out a slender white box wrapped in a royal-blue ribbon from a side pocket in his trench. A gift for me, but it’s not my birthday, she wondered. ‘Thank you. OK, bye,’ Inez said, becoming painfully self-conscious from his intense stare into her dark brown eyes. If she had worn heels, she would have gladly pivoted on them to escape his endearing presence. But he had other plans. ‘Have you eaten?’ ‘No.’ Emotional paralysis rendered her immobile. His hooded eyes were hypnotizing her. ‘Do you have time for something quick?’ he implored. ‘Not much — oh, it’ll have to be q-q-quick,’ she stammered. ‘Same here. Let’s go over to that diner,’ he said, pointing to T-Square Grill. ‘OK,’ she agreed, hesitatingly. With a wave of his hand, Antoine motioned for Inez to cross the street at his side, in heavy traffic. She was afraid to reveal that getting hit by an automobile was her worst recurring nightmare. Gathering that she would not.

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