She was now Jewelle Dawson, living in a remote Minnesota city, hidden from the world.

She recalled how John had tried to talk her out of the trip. "You can't do this Jewelle," John Murray said to her. "Christ, I've worked hard to protect you these past seven years. You're safe, they don't know where or who you are; I'm sure of it. For God's sake, you've got a great job, a super little house overlooking Lake Superior, and flexibility to live your life. Do you really want to risk all that?"

"John, I appreciate everything you've done for me over the years. More than your job required. And I know that to most people, my job would be great, but you know what my life was before. I traveled first class all over the states. I stayed in the best hotels and resorts. I've been the featured speaker at countless medical conventions. My name has been on the cover of national medical journals, and I've been consultant to some of the nation's leading pharmaceutical companies. I earned over two million a year and took exotic vacations. Do you really think my job as Medical Record Administrator at St. Luke's Hospital in Duluth compares to the life I had? Do you really think being stuck in this small, freezing town is my idea of fulfilling?"

"John, I need my life back."

"But Jewelle, this is your life we're talking about, not some spa weekend. If you leave my jurisdiction and go on this cruise, I can't offer you protection. Don't put this on me, Jewelle."

"I would never do anything to hurt you, John. You know that. I've had seven years to think about this. It's quality of life that matters to me, not quantity. Even if I only have one month of excitement, adventure, and romance, it would be worth it," she said.

"So, it is romance that's making you so restless? You're horny, is that it?" asked John as he got up from his metal desk, piled high with stacks of files and papers and old fast-food containers.

"What about that school teacher you've been seeing? I thought you liked him."

"There's nothing wrong with Mark. He's kind and thoughtful.He's also boring. Do you know, John, he has never even French kissed me in all the months we've been dating? I feel like I'm thirteen and wondering what a real kiss would feel like."

"See, you are horny, Jewelle! I know some real fantastic men I could set you up with to satisfy your fantasies without you putting your life in the way of a bullet in the head." John leaned against the edge of the old, scratched desk, his hands supporting his six-foot-two physique as he towered over Jewelle, who was seated in a metal chair with green Naugahyde covering.

"Jewelle, you can get laid without risking being laid out in a coffin!"

"Cute, John. If getting laid was the main point of all this, I'd call Betty and ask her permission to have you lay me. I know she loves me too and would gladly share you," joked Jewelle. "She's told me more than once that she'd gladly give you to me; anything to get you out of her hair!"

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