Vitor smiled painfully. A vein over his right eye pulsed, betraying his irritation. “When in doubt, restart!” Vitor recited rote, folding his glasses into his shirt pocket. It was the third time that day that he had been called to solve a problem that boiled down to stupidity. But that was the nature of the occupation, and he was getting paid enough that he could suffer through several of these every day. If they wanted to waste their money, overpaying him to tell people to restart their computers, that was their prerogative. He peered down at his watch. Nearly six. Might as well wrap it up before anyone could catch him and wrangle him into righting some inane human error. It was raining when he stepped into his car. He’d neglected to bring an umbrella. His worn leather jacket hung from his shoulders, slick with rain. The collar of his button down shirt was damp. He sighed, turning his keys to start the car. He began driving, his mind wandering from work, to Gianina, to how he would spend Saturday helping Ed build his porch. Suddenly, he looked up and realized he was there. Without realizing where he was going, he’d wound up at Vixens. He frowned. He did not want this for himself, and yet, there was nothing he wanted more for himself. He opened his wallet to count his money, even though he already knew exactly how much he had on hand. Earlier that day, he had stopped by a bank to withdraw $3,000. He was not putting down money on a car or rental. He was clearly not going out for an extravagant lunch. It was all about the buildup and planning, in a way. The anticipation of walking through those familiar doors and watching some of the most stunning women walk around completely nude. It didn’t feel coarse. There was a poetry to their bodies. The way a shoulder sloped or a breast hung, the sensation of warm skin and sweat, fragrant and slick. It was impossible to evade at length. And he missed her. Her intelligent eyes, plump lips, elegant hands, the way she strode up to him and assessed him the first time. Was this mortal man worthy of her attention? Of course not. In no world aside from here would she have considered getting close to him. She was young, and breathtaking. He was a man under the shadow of his own mortality. His life was self-denial for family, career, and status. He had always done the right thing. He had married his grad school sweetheart and together they had raised two well-adjusted young men. He played on a community soccer team and hosted neighborhood functions. Of course, those things gave him pleasure. He cherished his family. But he hadn’t made love to Gianina in years. It wasn’t intentional. There was something he needed that he couldn’t quite place. For years he’d blamed it on a lack of blowjobs. He wanted to see…