Adam takes a long pull at his beer, watching every motion, his eyes glued to her. He’s mesmerized. How many nights now? How many nights of looking for the right one? He’d almost given up. But now, he’s sure. Something about her. Something different.

He’s careful to keep his face neutral. He’s careful not to let on that she is any different than the others. Mostly, he’s careful not to let on that he is any different.

He’s not interested in her body. He doesn’t care that she can dance, twist, gyrate about… No, he cares about that something special he sees in her eyes. He cares about that unique glimmer of hope.

Patience.

He waits. Paces the drinks. Waits through one, two, three, then four of her performances. He smiles at her rising confidence.

He slips out between songs. He walks the parking lot once, then twice. Yes, he’s certain. This car is hers.

Three seconds to jimmy the lock. Four to find a comfortable place in the back seat.

Patience.

He’s a patient man.

Cassandra approaches. Patience.