The heat. The heat felt oppressive as I followed the hotel driver from the airport terminal to the hotel’s car for VIP guests. I looked around the city of Jakarta wondering if I would survive the heat or how long it would take to get used to it. Traveling all the way from the west coast of the US and changing planes once took a toll on me, as did the past year following my messy divorce. I work for a socially conscious, small but growing coffee company. We decided to place a buyer, me, close to our main source on a full-time basis. I agreed to go for two years just to get away from my devil of an ex-wife. While limiting sex with me to a handful of times a year, I found out she had been screwing two of her cousins. Fifteen years of being faithful to her shot to hell. At thirty-eight I was on my own. Once at the hotel I found the inside to be pleasantly air conditioned. As I registered the hotel manager came out to greet me. “Mr. Williams? I am Mr. Harris, the manager here.” He looked Indonesian, but Harris? I must have looked surprised. “My father was American, but I grew up here, except for my time in college.” “I’m sorry, I hope my surprise didn’t offend you.” I was too tired to think of hiding surprise. “Not at all. I know you are tired. I have scheduled a meeting to take care of the special requests you mentioned in your e-mail. Shall we meet tomorrow at 9:00 AM in my office? That will give you some time to adjust to our time difference. The next morning I was escorted in to Mr. Harris’ spacious office by a secretary who stayed to take notes and serve coffee. She was very pretty and nicely dressed. I was casually dressed as I saw most people were when I went walking around briefly the previous evening. “Mr. Williams, I think I have a good solution to several of your requests. Near where you plan to have the plantations contract with your company there is a smaller hotel owned by the man who owns this fine establishment. I contacted the owner, as well as the manager of that hotel, and we can make an excellent offer to you for the space you requested for offices. It could be a month-to-month or annual lease, and the hotel would provide cleaning. Of course, you could have accommodations there as well in a suite.” “That sounds good,” I replied. “Any chance I could see it soon?” “Certainly, whenever you like.” “As far as a personal assistant, a driver, and translator, I wasn’t certain if you wanted one, two, or three people. I also didn’t know if you wanted me to advertise, or help you select from people I know?” “How do you normally hire people here in your country?” I asked. “Commonly we hire gaziantep suriyeli escort friends, relatives, by recommendations.” “I see. Not off of resumes like in America?” “Generally, no. Most Indonesians have never had a resume.” “Well, do you know anyone who has a car, speaks excellent English, has a good head for business, and can be available pretty much around the clock? Oh, and has excellent computer skills?” “If I did I might hire him myself,” Mr. Harris replied laughing. He opened a wooden box and took out a cigarette. “I’m sorry Mr. Harris, but I am highly allergic to tobacco smoke. Would you be offended if I step out while you smoke?” “Please stay. I’ll not smoke now.” He put the cigarette back in the box. “Back to your need. I can think of one person who I recently interviewed to be our…I think in the US you call them banquet managers. She was widowed a year ago and is still depressed. I thought she’d be a great employee except for that. I saw Mr. Harris’ secretary look at him surprised. “Do you mean Nina, Sir?” “Yes, your cousin, Nina.” “I, well, Sir…I think Mr. Williams was thinking of a man, not a woman.” “I was,” I replied. “But tell me about your cousin.” “She is very smart. She went to college two years here, and two years in Australia for business. She married a military officer and he died in an accident a year ago.” “Would she feel comfortable working for a foreign man?” I questioned. “Yes, I think so.” “I hadn’t really thought about a woman, especially a widow. But if you, Mr. Harris, recommend her, I can consider her.” Mr. Harris turned to his secretary. “Why don’t you call her and arrange for a meeting?” The secretary left the room while Harris and I talked about a few other things. When the secretary returned she told us her cousin, Nina, would be coming to the hotel to meet with me at 1:00 PM. I excused myself to go and draw up a list of questions to ask her. A few minutes before 1:00 PM I walked into the lobby to find the secretary talking with a very attractive woman. She was about 5’4” tall, slim, and nicely dress in a dark blue dress. Her hair flowed halfway down her back. She carried a briefcase as well as a purse. The secretary walked her over to me and introduced us. I stuck my hand out and she barely stuck her fingertips into it. “I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Williams. Please call me Nina.” The secretary walked us to a small office with two couches, a coffee table, and two thick easy chairs. Nina placed her briefcase on the table and waited for me to sit. “I have a resume if you would like to see it, Mr. Williams.” “Yes, please.” I replied. Her English sounded American rather than Australian. She produced the resume which I looked over carefully. She majored in business which I asked about. “I wanted to work for one of the big foreign corporation which have interests here. I thought business would be the best thing to major in.” “Isn’t that unusual for an Indonesian woman?” “It is. However, I’m more western in my thinking, and Indonesia isn’t a typical Islamic country. You’ll notice most of the women, hardly any really, wear Islamic dress. I am the older of two daughters and then my parents couldn’t have more children. So they made certain my sister and I were well educated. There’s more, but I would prefer to wait until after you know if I will be working for you or not.” She gave me a big, bright, somewhat playful smile. I told her what I was looking for in an employee or employees. I described the business, and what the company’s expectations on me were. She made some notes on a pad she took from her briefcase. When I asked if she had any questions she did. “How many hours a week or month are you expecting?” My heart sank thinking she had children who would get in the way. I was starting to like this woman and I didn’t know why. “To be honest, I don’t know. It depends upon the work needing to be done.” “I see. “ She thought for a moment. “What would I be doing?” “Driving me around, at least initially. Computer work, translating, helping negotiate, secretarial work, hostess duties, a lot I can’t think of right now.” She nodded her head. “I’ll take the job. When do you want me to start?” “I, er, uhhh…I was planning to just interview you today. Don’t you want to know what the pay is?” “Am I not qualified? And I trust you for the pay.” “I think you’re qualified. I just…can you start tomorrow?” The next morning Nina picked me up in her Toyota and we drove out of Jakarta towards the region where my company planned to organize the coffee growers into an exclusive fair trade socially responsible coop. We arrived late in the afternoon at the hotel we planned to use for offices. We’d be staying two or three days for meetings. As I settled into my room Nina knocked on my door. Upon opening it she asked what my plans for dinner were, knowing I’d probably need a translator. We decided on 7:00 PM to meet for dinner. I asked what she would be doing to which she replied looking around the town. I mentioned I had seen a swimming pool and she laughed saying a single woman swimming might invite gossip. We looked at the office suite between our rooms, and she mentioned if I needed to talk to her it would be best to go through the suite to cut down on gossip. I told her the same thing. After a time adjustment nap and dinner we walked back to the hotel. I went straight to the office with Nina in tow. “So, Nina, what do you think so far?” “I think I like the position. I do like you for a manager. I think we will work together very well.” “I do too. I am glad Mr. Harris and your cousin recommended you.” “I was concerned at first you would be an American like in the movies, some big-headed bully or sex-starved, and looking for little people to dominate.” “I hope I’m not big-headed, or anything like that. We don’t want to dominate anyone. Sex starved – my ex-wife ensured I was that.” “I’m…I’m sorry, Mr. Williams. I didn’t mean to imply anything.” “No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have taken it personally. And Please call me Jeff. We’ll be working together for a while, so I’d prefer if, when we aren’t with others, you call me Jeff.” “Alright, then, Jeff.” She looked out the window at the pool. “How tired are you?” “I had a good nap, so I’m not too tired. Why?” “I would like to swim, and think it best I have an escort.” “I’ll grab my swimming suit and join you.” I wore a conservative swim suit, as did Nina in her one-piece. It was then I realized she was small-breasted and had a tight ass. She looked like a ballerina or gymnast. She cut the water clean as she dove in and swam the entire length of the pool underwater. I dove in and swam slowly towards her. “You’re a swimmer.” “Yes, I love the water.” She turned onto her back and did the backstroke to the far side. I leisurely swam a bit and floated as she did laps. After half an hour we went to our rooms. As we bid each-other goodnight I realized I thoroughly enjoyed our time together. The next day we had meetings with several of the coffee growers. Nina did an excellent job of translating, including interpreting nuances and the farmer’s concerns and thinking. We finally finished in the early evening and headed to dinner. As we finished I was feeling jet lag, the heat, and decided to call it an early night. Nina told me she’d be staying up a while longer to type the reports. I awake at 2:30 AM to the sound of a Pacific storm. I couldn’t go back to sleep and figured I’d might as well read the reports Nina typed up. I got up and put on a pair of short pants and opened the door to the office. At first I didn’t see her standing by the widow, but as I walked closer to the desk she was clearly looking at me over her right shoulder. “Nina?” “I…I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry; I’ll go back to my room. This is so embarrassing!” I started to reach for the desk light switch. “No! Please no.” “Nina, what’s wrong?” She jumped behind a chair. “The only thing I am wearing is an undershirt.