by Nova Rain
I only regretted doing those things, when you broke up with her. In all the years I’ve known you, I’d seen you cry twice. The first was when you lost your father. This was the second. Imagine how I felt when I realized that I tried twice to ruin something that made you happy.
What happened yesterday proved to me how blind I’d been. My brother, my blood, had been plotting against you, and it didn’t even cross my mind. I almost got us both killed, because I was fixated on controlling your personal life. This doesn’t leave me much choice, Chris. I have to quit. I have to go someplace away from you, where I can’t harm you.
I don’t know if you can ever forgive me. I know I wouldn’t be this kind.
Take care,
Sam”
“Damn you, Sammy…” I gasped out, the revelations hitting me like a wrecking ball. I felt like a fool, like someone with the word “sucker” written on his forehead. He hadn’t been innocent. All this time, he’d been trying to sabotage my personal life. The guy I considered the closest thing I ever had to a brother, had turned out to be a snake. In a way, I was relieved that he had fled. There was no telling what I would do, if he’d had the balls to talk to me about all this.
Chapter Thirty
Rosanna
“You’re late!”
My boss’, Charlie’s, complaint at the gate of “Eleganza” shocked me… Not. To him, even two minutes constituted a reason to bitch at somebody. Fortunately for me and my colleagues, this attitude had a very short expiration date. In fact, in most cases, it lasted until the club was packed, which in most cases was less than two hours after it opened.
Striding through the narrow halls, I made my way towards the dressing room. Happy sounds were reaching my ears. My fellow strippers had been in this line of business for at least two years each. They knew how to have fun with it, although most of them didn’t enjoy this job. Cheap perfume permeated the atmosphere as I entered the dressing room. The two dressers on my right were full of lipsticks, small bottles of perfume, makeup brushes and powder creams. Numerous racks were on each wall, with bras, thongs, stockings and corsets hanging from them. Just another day at work.
“Girl, there was someone here looking for you,” Tiffany stated, sauntering in my direction.
“Did he leave a name?” I asked, peeling off my coat.
“No,” her response came fast. “He was tall, about 6’2”, black hair, really handsome. He said he’d drop by later.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, lowering my gaze to the makeup brush in front of me. As I picked it up, I saw the frame of a large man in the mirror, standing behind me. He wasn’t a customer. He had been once, but that wasn’t where I remembered him from. It was Sam Rockwell.
“Hi,” he croaked, hands in his pockets. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
“The only private rooms around here are the backrooms,” I groaned. “And I’d rather give a gorilla a lap dance than you.”
“Okay, I deserved that,” he admitted. “Chris has been miserable, darling. He misses you.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I wondered, turning to him. “To tell me how unhappy Chris is?”
“No.” He shook his head once. “I’m here because I fucked up. I’m the one who broke you guys up. You see, I didn’t tell Chris the whole truth about those pharmaceutical companies. There was one more on my list, which I kept from him. ‘Cura Med.’ I’m not going to bore you with any details. I’ve brought a dossier with me. I’ll give it to one of your waiters. You’ll find everything you need to know in there.”
“So, Chris’s publicist is trying to patch things up between him and me,” I presumed in ironic tones. “Is this a joke or something?”
“I’m dead-serious, darling,” Sam stated, not breaking eye contact with me. “Oh, and I’m not his publicist anymore. I quit this morning. I don’t deserve to be around him. Not after what I did to him. Anyway, ‘RH Electronics’ is launching their brand-new store in Queens this Thursday. Chris has been invited. I know because I handed him that invite myself. I’d bet everything I have he’ll be there. Tell him I’m sorry. Goodnight.”
At that point, he tipped his head down and turned away from me, while I struggled to comprehend the magnitude of his actions. So, that so-called job in Vermont was just a ploy? A ruse to drive me and Chris apart? Son of a bitch… He had devised an evil plan. It was full-proof, whichever way I saw it. Even if we didn’t break up when I moved there, Chris’s endless back and forth would wear both of us out. Having grown tired of it, we would have ended things between us,
This was water under the bridge, though. Rockwell had suggested something that had piqued my interest. Despite my pain, I would go to that venue. I wanted to see the man who still had the key to my heart.
Chapter Thirty-One
Chris
Hundreds of people. Cameras. News crews.
Aka? Three, basic ingredients for a crappy night.
I didn’t mind crowds. I did mind the fact that they would be in the same space as the bastards who had demanded my head on a silver platter. If he were around, Sam would argue about this being good publicity. He would be right. “RH Electronics” was a major player. Launching their new superstore would draw a lot of attention. Yet, he had fled. More than that, after the recent events, the idea of being near those hypocritical bastards made me nauseous, not to mention angry. Not only had they tried to humiliate me, but none of them had had the decency to apologize.
Unfortunately, however, I had to go to Queens. My cooperation with “RH Electronics” was one of my most lucrative deals. We had been doing business with each other for over three years, without a single glitch. They always paid on time, and their orders were huge. Furthermore, Ronald Hines and I got along very well. Unlike most businessmen in the field, he didn’t demand insane discounts. It helped that he was a coder, too. To me, conversations with him meant brief trips back through time, where things were more challenging for him and the computer science world alike. In other words, I was benefitting from him on a personal level as well.
The superstore was nothing less than a geek’s heaven. Each one of its three floors and the basement were filled with the latest tech gadgets: computer screens, memory cards, USB sticks, MP3 players, and the teenagers’ absolute favorite; cell phones. To my pleasure, there was no sea of reporters in here. Just four of them were there, and they had set up their cameras close to each one of the entrances. About in the middle of the store, a rich buffet was tasked with satisfying the guests’ hunger. There was a mix of smells in the air that caused my stomach to growl in protest. I could recognize pizza, but I didn’t get anywhere near there. I just didn’t feel like eating. My goal was to stay there for an hour or so and then go back home.
“How’s my favorite golden boy doing?” Ronald asked, wearing a polite smile as we strolled towards each other. “Where’s Rockwell?”
“I’m fine and Sam won’t be joining us.” I forced a smile, remembering his letter.
“Why? He’s not sick, is he?” His next question didn’t leave me much choice but to answer. Sam’s flight was no secret. Sooner or later, everybody in the business world would find out about it.
“Actually, Sam Rockwell quit,” I announced, my tone calm. “He’s got some personal issues to take care of.”
“Oh,” Ronald gave a gasp of surprise, when I noticed two, large groups of teenagers head for the elevators down the hall.
“Where are those kids going?” I wondered, hoping that he wouldn’t ask any more questions about Sam.
“The third floor. Where else?” He chuckled. “That’s where the gaming area is. I wouldn’t put a bunch of testosterone-filled teenagers near the ground floor. They’re too darn loud, don’t you think?”
“That’s true,” I agreed with a nod, his gaze stopping at the entrance to the right.
“Holy mother of God…” Ronald whispered, admiration written all over his face. “Look what just walked in. Man, I wish I were ten years younger.”
I smiled in bitterness, looking at the woman who had triggered his reaction. Her hourglass figure was in an ankle-long, crimson dress, her blonde hair shining under the bright lights. Rosanna Harrison. Ronald wasn’t the only one charmed by her looks. A couple of teenage boys bumped into an oncoming waiter, knocking a tray of mini sandwiches from his grasp. I laughed, but by then, my heart and soul were protesting against the idea of staying in that store another minute.
“Happy sales, Ronald,” I wished my client. “I’m sorry. I just remembered I had to pick up my aunt from the airport.”
“Thank you, Chris,” he dismissed me with his usual, polite smile, saving me the trouble of having to come up with more lies. Rosanna’s eyes and mine met across the vast room while I approached the entrance. Keeping my silence, I passed her by. I had no idea what she was doing there, but I wasn’t going to ask, either. Standing so close to her was only going to deepen the pain that had been eating away at me.
I plunged into the coldness of the night, returning to Main Street. The twenty degrees indicated on an electronic thermometer outside a nearby restaurant were much warmer than the feeling in my chest.
“Chris, wait!” I heard her feminine voice behind me, along with her heels on the ground.
“What do you want, Rosanna?” I spoke in a monotone voice, my back to her. “I tried to be nice to you, and it bit me in the ass.”
“I know,” she claimed, stepping around me. “You acted out of the goodness of your heart, but I got too scared. I’ve never lived anywhere else besides New York. I know it’s not an excuse, but that’s how I saw it at the time.”
“I don’t want to have the same old discussion,” I stated, looking away from her. “Is that all?”
“Your publicist visited me at ‘Eleganza’ last Sunday,” she informed me, her voice gaining in volume. “He admitted his role in our breakup. He gave me information about another pharmaceutical company by the name of ‘Cura Med.’ I applied for a job with their new research project. I had an interview yesterday. I’m signing a contract tomorrow morning.”
“You’re what?” I asked, my brows shooting up.
“I’m living my dream,” Rosanna made her voice sound sweeter. “The dream you tried to make come true, but I was too afraid to listen to you.”
A bomb of emotions exploded in my chest at the end of her sentence. My agony was silenced by waves of joy, mixed with an urge to hold her and never let her go again. I tossed my arms around her back, my heart thumping against my ribcage. A sniffle escaped her as her head made contact with my chest. Once more, I felt my blood running through my veins. I had missed that… All this time away from her, I thought I had been barely hanging on, wondering if I would ever experience that emotion again. My query had been answered. And it was the same woman who had brought me back to life. The woman I wanted with every fiber of my being.
“I love you, mess…” She whispered in a trembling voice.
“I love you, too,” I confessed, leaning back, before I lifted my hands up to her face.
“I’m sorry to say this, but…” She paused and swallowed a sniffle. “I’ve known that for a while now. I found out when you told me you’d found me a job. I mean, who…?”
“Shhhh…” I hissed, tilting my head down. “Let me gaze into those tiny little seas. God, I’ve missed them so much.”
She satisfied my request, letting two tears spill from her eyes. Of course, seeing them like that wasn’t what I’d had in mind. They looked so much better when she was smiling. Either way, I wouldn’t complain. At last, she was back in my life, giving me the glance that could lure me like nothing else in this world.
“You haven’t quit your other jobs, have you?” I said in a near whisper, the tip of my nose brushing against hers.
“No,” she replied, a big smile bursting upon her lips. “Why?”
“Can I be there when you do?” I requested with a laugh.
“Sure,” she accepted. “I don’t understand why, but sure.”
“Because I want to witness the death of your suffering, and the birth of a life of decency,” I explained, putting some force in my voice. “And if anyone’s got a problem with that, they’re going to have to deal with me.”
“Okay,” Rosanna chuckled, her breath tickling my chin. My lips brushed her mouth for a moment. I couldn’t resist that softness. A powerful gust of wind tossed her hair about as our lips joined in a long, passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around my neck, vapors from our breath flying up in the air. In the crispness of the night, we were letting out the fire within us, not paying attention to oncoming cars or people passing by. I had been through too much pain to care about those mundane things. Rosanna was a part of my life. Again. The girl who had brought the artist out in me, had seen what was best for her. A few days ago, I believed she didn’t respect herself enough to work as a biologist. I thought she had no intention of changing her life, because she had been used to it. I was wrong. Very wrong. It was fear that kept her from chasing that dream; the possibility of living in a place hundreds of miles away from everything and everyone dear to her. But now, that future wasn’t her only choice anymore. She could stay right here. Where she belonged. With a man who had loved her for who she was. And I would love to see her make progress in her new line of work. Take care of her. Stand by her. Because reading her name on that nametag gave birth to that desire. Rosanna. The blonde who could have me play the piano for hours, just to get her attention. The woman who crept into my fantasies and wouldn’t get out, no matter how hard I tried: the queen of my heart.
Racing Hearts: A Medical Romance
Chapter One
Sean
“He’s stable.”
The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor came right after Nurse Hudson’s words. We had pulled another patient from the clutches of death: a twenty-four year old male, with four broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a fractured collarbone, and a fractured humerus. The severe concussion was the least of his problems.
Of course, one would expect those injuries in a street racer like him. I had been an ER doctor for three years, and I had treated at least a dozen of those posers. I could tell he was part of some crew from the moment I laid eyes on him. Both entire arms were covered in colored ink. He even had a tattoo of a spider’s web on top of his hand. Once I looked at the pictures of the accident he had been involved in, I realized that I had been correct. His flash-green Ford Focus ST had been totaled. Its front end was gone, as if it’d been hit by a gigantic pendulum. Chunks of the body kit were lying on the road around the vehicle. Every seat, apart from the driver’s, had been stripped off, and its owner had fitted a roll cage to it. I wasn’t surprised. Those things are meant to protect the driver in the event of an accident. That one hadn’t helped him much, though.
In any case, Chris Hannigan was my last patient that afternoon. Relieved that I had managed to save his life, I left the ER in the good hands of the nightshift. I couldn’t wait to go home and get some rest. As usual, it had been a long, hard day, filled with tension, shouting, and blood. Other than the three injured people in Hannigan’s accident, I’d had to deal with a crazy guy who had insisted on getting into the operating room, because he wanted to be with his—badly hurt—girlfriend. This wasn’t new, but it seemed to be getting worse every time it happened. Bound by protocol, I called security and had him removed. I wouldn’t have minded kicking him out myself, but if I had done so, I would have faced a problem. Altercations stress me out. I would have had difficulty calming my nerves, let alone operating on someone who had lost about a quarter of their blood. A tense surgeon is as good as no surgeon at all. I would have ended up making mistakes; mistakes that could cost the patient and me alike.
Nevertheless, this was just part of my job, and I had accepted this truth. I was dealing with dozens or even hundreds of people every day. Some of them were bound to be unreasonable. I had made my peace with this simple fact. I wouldn’t gain anything by complaining about it or by getting p
hysical with anyone. What did bother me was the flirting. I had to tolerate silly grins, cliché lines and “accidental” bumps on a daily basis. Nurses and interns often had me wondering if they had actually been through college. Why? Because it appeared none of them seemed to be using their heads.
“You work out?”
Their most usual and their stupidest question by far. No, I pump up my muscles in the morning, because I want to look intimidating.
“Is everyone in the family as tall as you?”
I knew this was supposed to be a compliment, since I stood at an impressive 6’4”, but this one sounded like a question about my gene pool. They didn’t need to know the answer, unless they were considering me as a sperm donor.
“I have a chest pain, would you mind examining me later?”
As a matter of fact, I would, sweetheart. You’re in your twenties, it’s virtually impossible for you to have any heart issues. You just want to be alone with me, and we both know what you’re after.
I found out back in 2013. Her name was Patricia. She was a petite, twenty-two year old blonde nurse, with incredible curves and an insatiable sex drive. I made the mistake of asking her out. Afterwards, all hell broke loose. Just a couple of days into our relationship, she was desperate for some alone time with me — at work, that is. Whether it was in the nurses’ locker rooms or in an empty hospital room, it didn’t matter to her. She was all over me in seconds. At first, I welcomed her wild behavior. It didn’t even cross my mind to complain to her. Why should I? The only thing in that young nurse’s mind was seducing me. That was great, right? Wrong.