The Power of Salvation

by Passarelli, Caterina

  He has a sister who he cares a great deal about.

  Has a set of hazel eyes that can pierce your soul.

  And a body that can make your panties wet.

  Whoa. Where the hell did all that come from?

  “I know you’re working. I didn’t mean we would have a drink right this minute,” he smirks at me. “You have to leave here at some point. And you can’t tell me you don’t like alcohol. I saw you down that drink at the bar.”

  How embarrassing. I have a flashback to the moment I downed my Sex on the Beach when I felt all-powerful, about to go over to the sexy man brooding alone in the corner booth. How childish. This guy is way out of my league.

  “Yes, I want to get a drink with you.” My confident answer even surprises me, but he smiles. Why did I say that?

  “Good, here’s my number,” he says, handing me a thick black business card, “call me when you’re ready for that drink.” And just like that he turns around and walks out the emergency room doors.

  Sheila rushes over to me, shrieking at a very high pitch rate, “Girl! Who the hell was that? He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen—in a dark and dangerous kind of way.”

  Dark and dangerous—that’s the vibe I get from him too. And it’s kind of hot.

  I flip the business card over and over in my hand debating whether or not to throw it out. Black with red font and it’s heavy. The card is freakin’ heavy—it must be at least a pound.

  Lucas Vulcano

  Vulcano Vodka, CEO

  I’ve had the card in my possession for about a week and done nothing with it.

  Luke is apparently the CEO of one of most profitable high-end liquor companies in the world. I don’t know much about liquor, other than occasionally drinking it, but I do know Vulcano Vodka is what the rich kids and businessmen order at the bar when they are trying to impress someone.

  I can’t call him. No way Jose. Dark and dangerous is not what I need right now. I need to focus on finishing my residency. I’ve avoided guys for the most part in school, now is not the time to let one slip into my life. Even if it is just for a drink.

  My phone rings and Drake’s name flashes across the screen.

  “Hey dude. What’s up?” I ask while tossing the card into the trashcan. Decision made: I need to avoid Luke and all other romantic ties. Avoid them like the plague, just like I’ve been doing for years.

  “You coming to the coffee shop? My treat! I’m sitting here bored out of my mind.”

  “Oh man, you are the best. I could use some caffeine!” I grab my purse and head towards the door. “I’m on my way.”

  Drake has scored the biggest table in the coffee shop, right next to the electrical outlets. It makes me proud to see he stalked us out the best spot in the place. I’m super picky about my coffee shop seating. I smile when Drake looks up from whatever paper he is highlighting like a crazy man.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I say while picking up the iced coffee he had waiting for me.

  Drake laughs as he pushes aside a study guide I see him creating for a class. Along with being a resident, Drake is a professor’s assistant at our university. How the hell does he find time to do this? I literally would pull out all of my hair if I had any more responsibilities on top of my residency.

  “Not a problem, sister. You basically helped me get through med school. Without you I wouldn’t be here,” Drake says, surprising me with his compliment.

  “When you put it that way—you’re right. You owe me more.” I laugh.

  We sit for awhile chatting about our goals for after we finish this last year of residency and what we want our lives to look like—with the occasional break to scroll Facebook and gossip. What are best friends for?

  We start packing up our laptops when a stranger pulls out the unoccupied chair at our table and takes a seat.

  Wait a second, this is not a stranger: Luke is sitting at our table. My jaw drops at the surprise of seeing him here. He looks so out of place in this casual environment with him, yet again, looking like a model in his suit.

  “Did you misplace that card?” Luke asks, raising an eyebrow at me. I can’t tell if he’s mad or trying to be a smart ass.

  “Excuse me, who the hell are you?” Drake interrupts. Luke does not even tilt his head in Drake’s direction—only keeping his gaze on me. Locked on me.

  “No, I threw it out,” I say, now annoyed he just showed up after I made the decision I wouldn’t see him anymore.

  His eyebrows perk up at my remark and he surprises me. Luke starts laughing. He’s laughing at me? This is not how I thought this would go. Well I never thought I’d see him again; this interaction I never saw coming.

  “What are you even doing here?” I ask with attitude.

  Drake is glued to this conversation waiting for me to let him in on the identity of this man at our table. No one comes to this coffee shop except for students at the university around the block or hospital staff. I’m telling you, we run this place. It’s rare a stranger sneaks his way in. Leave it to Luke.

  “I was on campus as a guest speaker for Professor Hasting’s class. He’s a good friend of mine. I was walking by this coffee shop and who would I happen to see through the giant windows … you. The girl I can’t seem to stay away from.”

  Drake pushes his chair out and motions for me to stand up.

  “Okay man. I don’t think it’s healthy for you to stalk my friend. And she clearly threw out something you gave her—so I’m going to guess she couldn’t care less about you.” He puts his backpack over his shoulders and heads towards the door. “Let’s go Ariana.”

  “I’m sorry but I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?” Luke asks, he is standing now as well, shoulders squared ahead. “This guy seems to be awfully controlling.”

  “Controlling? What the fuck do you know man?” Drake walks back to our table, his hands clinched in tight fists. Their confrontation is like a dance. Two steps forward, one step back. Before this little show of macho men becomes something it doesn’t need to be, I need to do something.

  “Excuse me,” I say, putting myself between them, “this little show of masculinity is adorable but you need to cut it out because people are now staring.”

  No one is studying anymore and I don’t blame them; if crazy people were having a showdown when I was studying I would stare too. Hello juicy gossip. But I hate being the center of attention—it makes my skin crawl and causes anxiety. In public I want to be invisible.

  “I don’t care if people are staring. This guy needs to know his place,” Drake says as he pulls on my arm to try guiding me towards the door. I have never seen my super chill friend act like this before.

  “You don’t need to put your hands on her,” Luke growls. But instead of pulling me towards him to continue this ridiculous battle, he respects my space and does not touch me.

  “Drake, it’s okay.” I pull my arm away from his gentle grasp. “I do know Luke. We’ll just be a few minutes and then I’ll head out too. You don’t need to wait for me.”

  Drake looks shocked and a little defeated. I’ve never picked anyone over him. Now that I think about it, I’ve never had to make a decision like this before either.

  “Fine. I’m going to guess you know what you’re doing. Call me when you get home,” he says while giving Luke one last evil stare before leaving the coffee shop without saying goodbye.

  “Want to get out of here?” Luke asks, nodding towards the door. I don’t know where the hell we would go but I agree that we need to get out of this place. I feel trapped. Luke walks extremely close to me as we head towards the front door. We step out into the cold air and I wrap my black zip-up jacket a little tighter around me.

  “So …” I say self-consciously, turning to walk in the direction of my apartment.

  “Would you like to get that drink with me?”

  I keep walking with him right by my side. “I don’t drink often.”

  He raises his eyebrow and laug
hs a raspy laugh. “Says the girl I witnessed down a shot like a champ.”

  Busted.

  “That was a rare occurrence,” I say, which sounds super lame.

  “Well I’d invite you to coffee but I’m not sure we should go back in there. The room was a little tense.”

  “You noticed that too?” I laugh, realizing he’s said exactly what I was thinking. “Okay fine, one drink then.”

  I caved. I threw out his business card thinking there would be no chance for me to ever see this guy again. I mean Chicago has more than two million people in it, what are the chances? And I do want to know how his sister is doing; it’s not often I can follow up with someone who has come into the emergency room.

  He doesn’t say a word but turns our direction to walk across the street. I don’t realize where we are going until we are walking the steps to enter The Grand Plaza’s hotel lobby. My face must have shock written all over it because he laughs at me and nods his head in the direction of the hotel bar.

  “Don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t fuck on the first date,” he says with a smirk as we approach the bar.

  “Who said this was a date?” I tease as we take our seats at an intimate looking table tucked in the back of the bar. The lights are dim and a candle sits between us, casting flickers of light across his refined face.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t fuck on the first whatever this is.”

  “Well as long as we got that cleared up.”

  A waitress approaches our table with her eyes glued to Luke. She looks like she may drool. Has she never seen an attractive man before? I mean damn lady, pull it together.

  “What can I get you?” she asks as she turns her body to face only Luke. If this were an actual date, then I’d be a little pissed, but since it’s not I guess she can eye fuck him all she wants. I’m trying my hardest not to do the same thing from across this too small table.

  Luke surprises me by reaching across the table to put his hand on top of mine. The shock causes me to forget I don’t ever let men touch me. The waitress’s eyes land right on our joined hands and she turns just slightly to face me as well—probably sizing up her competition.

  Luke orders us both Lemon Drop Martinis with Vulcano Vodka—his company’s brand.

  “What was that all about?” It didn’t escape me during the weird waitress confrontation he took the liberty to take away my option to choose my own drink. I’m an independent woman, damn it.

  You’d order another lame ass Sex on the Beach.

  “You made it very clear you didn’t like her staring with your not-so-subtle eye rolls. I figured I’d put her in her place. And as for the drinks, I’m used to most people letting me pick when it comes to that area.”

  I smile back at him teasingly. “Because you’re the big bad CEO of Vulcano Vodka that means people automatically let you make decisions for them? What if I hate vodka?”

  The waitress returns with less pep in her step, placing our martinis down in front of us and saying, “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” Then she takes off before we can even thank her.

  “So you’ve been researching me?” He studies me with quizzical eyes.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. All it took was reading the business card you handed me to know you’re the CEO,” I laugh.

  “So you read it then threw it away because you couldn’t possibly be seen with the vodka guy when you hate to drink?” he asks with a smirk before sipping on his own drink.

  I laugh at his teasing and then finally sip my own drink, making a slight face because it’s strong. How much vodka did they put in this martini?

  Luke tosses his head back and lets out a deep laugh. “Too strong for you? I should be offended to see someone make that face when drinking our vodka.”

  “I think that’s a drink that could put hair on your chest,” I say with a blush, feeling terrible for dissing his work right in front of him. I wonder if he feels a sense of pride when he drinks his company’s creation? I would.

  “I could check for you,” he says in a serious tone.

  “Check what?”

  “Your chest …” His hazel eyes turn dark.

  “Oh um, no, no thank you,” I stumble over my words. Despite my absolute embarrassment, I feel heat between my legs at the thought of Luke’s hands on my breasts. Would he like what he sees? Wait, what? Why do I even care if he likes what he sees? I’ve already decided anything between us is a bad idea; that’s why I threw out his business card in the first place. And intimacy is so far from being my strong suit—I avoid it at all costs—and that would be hard to do with a man like him. Someone who seems so experienced. I’m sure the eye fuck he got from the waitress happens to him all the time. A man who’s powerful and handsome—he must get his pick of any woman he wants. That definitely outnumbers the few men I’ve been with. I need to get the hell out of here.

  This is a bad idea.

  “You know I’m so sorry to do this to you, but I need to cut this short. I just remembered I have an early shift tomorrow morning,” I say, collecting my jacket as I stand up from the table. Even from the few sips of the martini I feel a little off balance.

  He doesn’t miss a beat. Luke picks up his own jacket and throws a hundred dollar bill on the table to follow me as I hightail it out of the hotel. I step outside and the cold Chicago air slaps me hard across the face. Just the slap I need to wake me up from this ridiculous fantasy I was falling into.

  Wake up Ariana! This isn’t a life for you. This isn’t what you need. You don’t do men. You avoid men, you know what happens. Your focus is your medical career. Making your own way. Making a difference without a man.

  “Are you okay?” I feel his hand on my lower back before the words even register in my mind. I jump back out of fear and shoot out some kind of lame ass apology over this situation. I grab my phone to find the Driver app for a ride home; I don’t want to walk tonight, not with my head all over the place.

  “Wait,” he says as he tries grabbing my hand when he sees the app open on my phone. But I quickly move out of his grasp. “Let me give you a ride home. It’s the least I can do. It’s freezing out here and I don’t want you waiting for someone to show up.” As if on cue a black Lincoln rolls up to the curb to meet us. A middle-aged man dressed like a chauffer gets out of the driver’s seat and tips his head at Luke.

  “Mr. Vulcano, Miss, lovely night,” the driver says with a smile as he opens the back door looking at us both.

  I hesitate for a moment, debating my next move, as Luke stands next to me patiently waiting, not saying a word to persuade me. I feel like he’s trying to assure me that the decision is mine to make. I push the ‘cancel ride’ button on my app and climb into the back of the car alongside Luke, giving a small smile to the driver before giving him my address.

  I’m sitting as far from Luke as I possibly can in the backseat but it’s still not as far away as I’d like. My knuckles look white as my hands have a death grip on my phone.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you with that comment about your chest,” he says, turning his body to face me. I don’t move but continue facing forward as a divider goes up between his driver and us. I’m afraid to look him in the eye, yet I’m in shock over the fact that he apologized. I would assume a man like him takes what he wants and asks no questions—especially with women. No need for apologies.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry, I freaked out. I …” I mumble, “I’m just not used to this. I don’t even know what I mean by this and now I feel extra stupid for saying that.” I let out a breath and squeeze my phone even tighter.

  “I really want to reach out and grab your chin. Turn your gorgeous face to look at mine,” he says in a deep sexy voice that has my panties wet, “but I notice how you react when I touch you, so I won’t. I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t upset me that you flinch. Do I repulse you?”

  My heart sinks as tears pool in my eyes. Damn it. He notices it’s extremely hard for me to let men touch me. Most peo
ple don’t notice. No one has ever said anything about it before except for Drake and Serena.

  I turn to face him, giving him what he wants without him having to take matters into his own hands. Literally.

  “It’s not you … that makes me flinch. I just don’t do well with being touched. It’s ‘my thing’ I guess.” I try a half-ass attempt to laugh it off like it’s no big deal.

  “I don’t believe that it’s ‘your thing.’ ”

  “Why not?” I whisper.

  “You don’t seem like the person who would naturally want to keep people out. I saw you at the hospital—with my sister and a few other patients. You care about them; your eyes say it all. You are a natural nurturer.”

  I’m stunned. No one has ever read me. I don’t think I’ve ever even identified myself that way—a natural nurturer.

  “Wait. With other patients? Were you researching me?” I smile, turning the tables around on him.

  There’s that laugh again. “I guess so. You intrigue me. Since that night at the bar, I’ve wanted to know more about you.”

  “I’m sure you want to know more about all kinds of women.” I can’t imagine a man like this being genuinely intrigued by a skittish doctor who avoids men when he could land a model who would sleep with him this instant.

  “Not true. Most women I meet do not intrigue me. They put it all out there in every way—their emotions are easy to read, their thoughts are not deep, and their bodies,” he pauses to scan my body with his eyes, “they leave nothing to the imagination. You seem to be the opposite.”

  It’s like all the air is sucked out of this car and I’m gasping for a breath. I’ve definitely never been left breathless by anyone before. Someone check me for a pulse.

  “Maybe you just aren’t meeting the right kind of women. I can assure you, I’m not the only one who is like what you just described,” I say as I try to blow off the compliment. I can think of many smart women with deep thoughts at the hospital that could prove his theory wrong.

  The divider comes down between us as the driver lets us know we are outside of my apartment. I reach for the door handle at the same time the driver opens it, causing me to fall forward out of my seat. I almost hit the ground but a pair of strong arms wrap around me. My mind is completely devoid of any thoughts of being annoyed by his touch. Instead I’m grateful to feel … protected by him.