The Power of Salvation

by Passarelli, Caterina

  “That’s okay. I was happy to go with you,” I say, getting into the back of a yellow cab.

  The entire ride home Serena is talking and I must be replying, but my mind is replaying what Renee, the magical fairy, said over and over.

  Don’t continue to live with a guarded heart.

  What the hell does she know? Nothing good comes from relationships. My heart needs to be guarded for my own protection. The one time it wasn’t, look what happened.

  What happened to you is not your fault.

  Then whose fault is it?

  You do not need to continue shutting people out.

  I only let the few people I trust in—picking and choosing what information they’ll receive. No one knows the entire story, and I’m going to keep it that way.

  Let him in, he faces battles too, deep and grave, but you need each other.

  I highly doubt she’s talking about Drake. So then is this about Luke? I barely even know the guy. Why the hell is he showing up in my reading?

  My heartstrings pull—what kind of battles is he carrying around with him? Something in me needs to know. I have an immediate urge to take care of him, to protect him from whatever deep and grave stuff she’s talking about.

  Could this explain his scars?

  I need to go back to bed—my head isn’t thinking clearly. I’ve never felt the need to protect someone else—I barely do an okay job protecting myself. And what would a man like Luke need me for anyway? I’m sure he can do a fine job of protecting himself. I saw the way he cared for his sister, the love in his eyes when he talked to her, and the concern for other people when he knew that cops weren’t called yet.

  That’s a man who does the protecting, not a man who needs to be protected.

  What the hell is going on with me? Why do I care about any of this stuff? I don’t even believe in psychics; this is all hocus pocus bullshit.

  Chapter eight

  Music is blasting as I dance around my bathroom to get ready for this dinner Luke is taking me to. I wanted to blow it off, but I can’t get what Renee said out of my head—I need to see him at least one more time to get my jacket and get the hell out of this mess. I’ll explain to him that we can’t keep seeing each other because I have to focus on my career, which someone running a company should understand.

  There’s a pause in the music and my phone beeps, letting me know I’ve got a new email.

  Email from: Gina Potter

  Subject: This year’s benefit

  Hey Ariana,

  How are you doing? Hope you’re fabulous! I wanted to send you this year’s flyer for the “Stand Up Against Abuse” charity benefit. Does it look okay? It will be going out in two days, so if you see any changes, let me know. We can count you in for attendance, right? This year we’ve added in a silent auction, so if you know any wealthy people who want to be donors, invite them. ;)

  See you soon!

  xoxo

  G

  I shoot Gina a quick email back, letting her know the flyer looks incredible and that, of course, I’ll be at the event. I wouldn’t miss it. I’ve been donating my time and what little extra money I have to the Stand Up Against Abuse campaign for the last eight years. Their main focus is helping women who are victims of domestic abuse or sexual assault. We go to soup kitchens, collect and deliver food, raise money for medical treatment, and offer anonymous counseling. Many of these women are mothers, and the organization does what it can to make sure their kids are taken care of as well. This charity means the world to me.

  My phone vibrates again and I glance down at the screen to see Luke’s name.

  5 minutes away

  I give myself a quick look over in the mirror, making sure my long sleeve black dress is in place. I spritz some hairspray into my light brown hair, which is down in long curls tonight—a change from my typical messy bun. A quick swipe of peach lipgloss and I hear my doorbell ring.

  He came to the door. How sweet!

  I bolt from my room, but I’m not quick enough as I round the corner where I see Serena making small talk with Luke. When I walk towards them, they both look up and Luke smiles at me. I watch his gaze travel the length of my body, stopping on my bare legs.

  “You look marvelous,” Serena says as I blush while quickly pulling Luke out the door. “You two have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Wear a condom!”

  “She seems … fun,” Luke laughs once we’ve made our way down the stairs and into the back of a stretch black limo.

  Even though there’s plenty of room to spread out, we are both sitting next to each other, extremely close. Luke reaches across my body and grabs two glasses of champagne waiting on ice for us.

  He really knows how to take a woman out on a date. Is this what all of his dates are like?

  “You look stunning,” he says, interrupting my anxious thoughts with a champagne flute.

  “Thank you. You look very handsome yourself,” I say, drinking in the view of him in a dark blue suit. I have yet to see this man in anything but a suit. Does he even own a pair of jeans? He smirks, clearly seeing me check him out before taking a sip from his drink.

  I down mine a little too quickly; I’m a big mess of nerves. I feel my face flushing, a sign I’m drinking too fast. I would bet any money underneath all this brown hair my ears are shining bright red. That happens every time I drink too much. I definitely get that trait from my dad.

  “You seem nervous,” he says, taking my empty glass to refill it. “Tell me something about yourself to relax a little.”

  Talking about myself won’t make me relax, but I decide to go along with this. “Like what?”

  “Anything—I’m all ears.”

  “I’m in my last year of my residency at the hospital. Just a few more months and it will be over,” I say, taking the refilled glass from him but giving myself a mental reminder to only take small sips or this is going to be a long night.

  “You seem to shine in the hospital. You took great care of my sister.”

  “Oh my gosh, your sister!” I turn my body to face him, grabbing on to his arm desperately needing to hear his answer. “I’ve been meaning to ask you: how’s she doing? Did you end up contacting the police?”

  “She did contact the police and the asshole is now behind bars.” He pauses for a moment too long before saying, “You did the right thing by encouraging her.”

  “It’s my job. And you encouraged her too. Much more than I did.”

  “You seemed a little close to the case. Have you seen this many times?”

  My hands shake as I bring up the glass of champagne and take a drink. If he only knew how close.

  “You could say that,” is all I can manage to squeak out. “Okay, now tell me something about you. Do you have any more siblings?”

  “Oh yeah, a crazy younger brother, Eric,” he says with a proud smile that lights up his entire face. “He’s going to school to be a lawyer.”

  “That’s incredible. How much more schooling does he have left?”

  “He’s in his last year as well.” Am I the same age as his younger brother? I figured Luke was older than me based on his success alone—probably mid-30s—but I wasn’t sure until now.

  “How did you get started in the alcohol industry?” Since our drinks at the hotel, I will admit to doing a quick online search on his life. I came up pretty empty. Much of his life before starting his vodka company is blank; the Internet seems to be in agreement that he’s a Man of Mystery, just as the nurses at the hospital said.

  I did, however, see several paparazzi photos of him with women at parties—one in particular kept showing up, a breathtaking blonde. I’m going to push that finding aside because I’m the one here on this date.

  “I used to work in bars when I was young. Bar back, stock boy, bartender, bouncer, until I became a manager. All the ins and outs fascinated me. I worked my way up the ladder until I was able to open my own high-end club. That’s where my current business partner approached
me about creating our own vodka. He was pretty into the idea, and I’m pretty unwavering if I decide to commit myself to something,” he says as he locks eyes with me—is that a look of warning? “My partner, Wayne, needed me for the money and my willingness to bust ass, but I became much more involved. I sold my club and became the majority owner of Vulcano Vodka a few years ago.”

  And one thing my Internet search can confirm, Vulcano Vodka is highly successful. Ambition, goal-oriented, and extremely handsome—how is this guy not already with someone?

  “I’m sure you saw some wild things working in a bar. How old were you when you started?” I ask, curious about all that he’s gone through to get himself to the man he is today.

  Luke runs his hand through his dark hair thinking about his answer. “I don’t know … maybe 14 or 15 when I got my first job?”

  That’s so young. What kind of parents let their 14-year-old son work in a bar?

  “You can say I didn’t have the typical upbringing,” he says. He turns away from me to face the divider now; I guess we’re clearly done with this topic. From this angle the lights of the night sky light up his face, revealing the faint scar I noticed at the hospital on his temple.

  He has battles too.

  There’s a loud beep and the divider comes down. “We are here, sir.”

  I just realized I never asked where we were going. The driver opens the door for Luke, and then Luke comes around to open the door for me. He extends his hand and looks at me, daring me to touch him.

  Can I do this?

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says in a gentle voice, yet his hand remains there for me to take.

  “I’m just not ready,” I say. I feel terrible as he pulls his hand away as if it’s not a big deal, but I know it is. No man wants to feel like he’s just been rejected—especially from physical touch. Maybe this will be the straw that gets him to lose interest in me? I can only hope.

  Climbing out of the limo by myself, I crane my head up to take in the sight of the Willis Tower. I’ve been inside before, but I don’t tell him. I smile as we walk towards the doors. A man at the front greets us with, “Good evening Mr. Vulcano, miss.”

  He nods at us both as he opens the door, escorting us inside where we are greeted by a woman.

  “Good evening, it’s a pleasure to have you here tonight,” she says. Her Willis Tower nametag reads Pamela. She presses the button to the first elevator and we wait just a minute for it to arrive. Once the elevator door opens, Pamela extends her arm to indicate we should get inside, and then she follows behind us. We are up the first elevator in what feels like seconds to then get into the second elevator that takes us up the last few flights. My ears pop from the pressure change.

  We’re at the 103rd floor. It’s not until we step out of the elevator that it hits me—we are the only people here. The last time I came to the Willis Tower it was still named the Sears Tower and I was on a ninth grade field trip. The place was jam packed with tourists but I didn’t care. I was so grateful to be away from my parents.

  This time, other than the few staff members, Luke and I are the only people in the building. I look around the 103rd floor and see a dinner table in the center of the room. Luke starts walking towards it, and I follow behind him in awe. I’ve been on very few dates, and not a single one of them as nice as this.

  On the table sit vanilla-scented candles and a bouquet of hot pink roses. Luke pulls out my chair and we take our seats.

  “You sure know how to set the bar high on a first date,” I say, taking a sip from the much-needed water glass in front of me. Hydration, I’ve needed you after the champagne on the limo ride over.

  “Are you saying that means there’ll be future dates?”

  Am I saying that?

  “Let’s play it cool, Luke. I don’t even know how I feel about you yet.”

  He smiles at my smartass answer just as a waiter approaches us carrying yet another bottle of champagne. I don’t think I’ve had this much to drink in such a long time—not even that night out with the fraternity boys.

  “Good evening Luke and Ariana, it’s a pleasure to have you here,” our waiter says as he pours our drinks. “Your food will be ready shortly.”

  He turns to leave and Luke lets me know he took the liberty to order for us. He seems to do that often. I’m not sure if it’s an alpha male trait or that he’s trying to be considerate. I’ll figure him out.

  “I’ve got an idea,” I say, feeling a little too brave after a few too many sips of bubbly. “Let’s ask each other questions and we have to give the honest truth. No ‘first date let’s pretend we are cooler than we actually are’ bullshit. No facades. Okay?”

  A huge smirk breaks out across Luke’s ridiculously handsome face. “Game on. Ladies first.”

  When I threw the idea out for this game I didn’t have any questions in mind. That was a mistake. I take my time looking around the room and out at the picturesque view, while I stall and think.

  “What are three things on your bucket list?”

  That’s a lame question, but it’s all I can think of in this moment. The pressure is on.

  Luke pauses for a brief moment while studying me, giving away no sign of emotions on his face. “I don’t have a bucket list.”

  “That’s it? ‘I don’t have a bucket list’ is the lamest answer, ever. That’s not how you play the game,” I say, pouting at the fact he’s already giving me a hard time on this. “If you aren’t going to take this seriously, then we don’t need to keep playing.”

  I don’t know why I’m getting so defensive over a silly game of question and answer, but his non-response pisses me off.

  “I don’t have a bucket list because I do the things in my life that are important to me right when I think of them.” He drinks from his water now. “Life is too fucking short to wait around with ideas of ‘I’d really like to do this’ left in your mind. There’s no guarantee you’ll get another day, another moment.”

  Well, damn. Now look who made a joke of herself.

  “Okay, I accept your answer. Your good answer.” I smile back at him with a blush and say, “It’s your turn.”

  The waiter shows up at just the right time to bring our food. He places a plate of pan-seared scallops with a bacon cream sauce in front of me. This is definitely not something I’d order for myself—I stick to the cheap basics—but my first bite confirms it’s absolutely delicious. In this moment I appreciate Luke ordering for me—showing me things outside my comfort zone.

  We enjoy our meals in a few moments of silence and then just as I’m bringing a bite of scallops to my mouth, Luke asks, “What’s your biggest turn on? Sexually.”

  I fumble and the bite drops off my fork and back onto my crisp white plate. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

  “It looks like we aren’t very good at this game. How can you not know what your biggest sexual turn on is? Maybe you have too many to pick just one? You can say a couple.” He teases me with a deep laugh.

  Just be honest with him. You made the rules of the game.

  “I wish that were the case,” I say, putting my fork down and looking up at him. “No, if we are going to be honest, I don’t have the best track record of stellar sexual experiences. None to be exact.”

  It feels like an eternity until Luke finally speaks again. “Are you a virgin?”

  “Oh no, that’s not what I meant. I’ve had sex before, yes,” I confess, laughing and feeling like a loser. “I just meant no experience was that great.”

  “That’s an absolute shame. A beautiful, kindhearted, smart woman like you deserves to be treated like a goddess in the bedroom … in all areas of life.”

  I laugh at this ridiculous notion that I’m a ‘goddess,’ but Luke doesn’t join in on the joke. “Oh, you’re serious?” My laughing slowly comes to a stop. “I don’t think anyone has ever referred to me as a ‘goddess’ before.”

  “Maybe you should think of yourself that way,” he sa
ys as he looks at me with true concern; I break our eye contact because it’s all too much. Looking down at my plate, I pick up my fork to continue eating this delicious meal.

  “Okay, enough with this question. My turn. How would you describe your perfect day? I know you said you go out and do everything you want, but there’s got to be a day that sounds amazing to you,” I say, just after the waiter clears our plates and promises to be back with dessert.

  “My perfect day … no one has ever asked me that before.” Luke takes a moment to think of his answer and then continues, “I’d do many of the things I do right now. I’d wake up in my penthouse overlooking the Chicago skyline, just like I do now. I’d eat the healthy breakfast my private chef prepared, and then hit the gym in my apartment building. After I’d head to work for the majority of the day—which can be stressful and overwhelming at times but I love it. In the evening, I’d spend it with friends or my siblings. Taking them out to dinner, a show, museum or we can catch a private jet and leave Chicago.”

  His day sounds wonderful, but very different from mine. And there’s one thing he seems to have left out.

  “There doesn’t seem to be any mention of a woman by your side in this perfect day.”

  “I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t think about sharing my life with a woman. Dates, companions for business events, a fuck, yes. But anything more than that, never.”

  I should be comforted to hear this. I’ve never once seen myself with someone long-term—or even married—either. I don’t know if my perfect day would include a man by my side. But why does it make my stomach feel slightly sick at the thought of him being alone … specifically … without me?

  “Well, that’s very interesting, because I don’t see sharing my life with a man either. Which makes me wonder, why are we here together right now? Aren’t we just wasting time?” I ask with a cold edge to my voice.

  Luke stares at me so intently I feel like he’s peering into my soul. Then says, “I don’t think we are wasting time. Maybe we are just figuring out that we might not want what we believe we always have. Or shit, if we don’t want to end up without anyone that doesn’t mean we have to be lonely right now.”