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.Evidently it had been Sacco’s misfortune to sign on with a software company that vaingloriously decided to compete with some arcane pop-up blocking service provided by Microsoft.The technical details were beyond Eugenie’s grasp, or interest, but she had no difficulty understanding the reason for Sacco’s consumptive bitterness.At one point the young man had been worth approximately two million dollars on paper, a figure reduced to bus change by his firm’s brief skirmish with Sir William Gates.Sacco’s sorrowful tale was related from the depths of Eugenie’s claw-footed tub, where he’d retreated morosely after a late lunch at which he’d refused wine, beer and several choices of hard liquor.Eugenie was perturbed to see he had no intention of relaxing, not even for a fifteen-minute hump on the sofa.Sacco was obsessed, and nothing was more tedious than a man with an obsession.“It’s getting late,” Eugenie hinted.“They talk about free enterprise but in America it’s a myth.They talk about a level playing field, ha! It’s tilted sideways,” Sacco declared, “so that every last penny rolls into Bill Gates’s pocket.That four-eyed fucker’s wired himself a monopoly over the whole damn universe!”He arose, dripping and agitated.“Where’s your PC? I’ll prove it to you, Genie.”“I don’t have a PC,” she said.Sacco looked mortified.“You aren’t serious?”“Listen, sport, you want to do it or not? Because I need to get ready for work.”She’d had her hopes up, having persuaded Sacco first to admit that he was a heterosexual, and then to visit her apartment.It was the inaugural step of her commitment to refocus on unmarried men.Yet, appraising the bony, mirthless figure in her bathroom, Eugenie Fonda thought: Am I hard up or what?Sacco said, “You don’t give a damn what they did to me, do you?”Eugenie tossed him a towel.“Hey.Sometimes life is a shit-flavored Popsicle.”“Don’t you at least want to hear about the lawsuit, and how they paid off the judge with a free laptop and lifetime DSL?”“Not really.”Sacco mulled over this information, then stepped purposefully out of the tub.“Well, I suppose we could try having sex,” he said.Try? thought Eugenie.“Lord, I wouldn’t want you to damage yourself,” she said.So much for the quiet, brooding types.“No, Genie, it’ll be great,” Sacco said.She doubted that.“Why don’t you go wait for me on the couch.”“How about the bed?”“It’s broken.Don’t ask.” Eugenie nudged him out the door, removed the pearl stud from her tongue and dashed cold water on her face.She peeled down to her underwear, but that was as far as she could go.When she came out, Sacco was obediently stationed on the sofa.He had folded the towel triangularly across his lap, a quaint act of modesty that Eugenie might have found charming under other circumstances.“I cannot believe you haven’t got a PC,” he remarked.“Don’t you feel totally lost and out of touch?”“You have no idea.”Sacco flinched when she jerked the towel away.“How tall are you, anyway?” he asked.“Six feet even, but don’t be intimidated,” she said, hoping just the opposite.Sacco said, “You wanna hear something weird? I’m the exact same height as Gates.”“Cool.Are your cocks the same size, too?”Sacco looked down at himself in a clinical way, pondering the possibility.Eugenie Fonda was alarmed to think that she’d once regarded this man as intriguing.He was simply fucked-up, and not in a particularly interesting way.“It’s getting late,” she repeated, hoping he’d pick up on her lack of enthusiasm.“Then let’s get busy.I’m ready,” Sacco said.“You are?”He patted the tops of his spidery-haired legs, inviting her to hop aboard.“I don’t want to hurt you,” Eugenie said.“You can’t hurt me.I’m beyond pain.”Just my luck, Eugenie thought.She placed herself on Sacco’s lap, facing away.He made a growling sound and said they should pretend they were riding a Harley.“More like a Lark scooter,” she muttered.“What’d you say?”Miraculously the doorbell rang.Eugenie briskly unsaddled and snatched up the towel, covering herself as she hurried to the foyer.Through the peephole she saw him.“Boyd?”“Please, Genie
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