Wild Card

Note to my readers:

For those of you who enjoyed my first Galatea novel, 'Panther's Cage,' I appreciate your love and support! I can't thank you enough for the beautiful comments- it has meant the world to me.

I have also listened and know that most of you have patiently waited for me to put out a novel with some more "heat" in it. This one's for you. <3

Cream-colored walls enveloped my spacious office, their gentle hue softened by the warm light shining through the windows. Surprisingly, a sense of happiness and calm washed over me- a stark contrast to the hauntings of last night’s dream. The nightmare always came in glimpses, just a quick flash from the real-life memory of that dreaded night. One deep breath and I brought myself back to the now, eager to move on.

In my black leather chair, I spun slowly, the anticipation of my two o’clock appointment mounting. The restless sighs from the waiting room signaled my client’s arrival. At precisely two, I invited him in.

“Good afternoon, Natalia,” Alan greeted me, his tired eyes searching for solace. “I’ve been eager to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too.”

As a therapist, my clients came from diverse backgrounds, each grappling with unique circumstances and challenges, but Alan Rogers had a predicament unlike any other. His marriage to a woman forty years younger was only the start. She had yet to sleep with him, in fact, he had never even seen her naked. They married after only three weeks of knowing each other, and Alan had a boatload of money. I was always tempted to ask him what he expected would happen, but I was there to provide support and guidance, not judgment.

After a solid forty minutes of the same complaints I heard weekly, he finished with, “Natalia, dear, what should I do?”

Again, what I wanted to say, is not actually what I said. I desperately wanted to tell him to divorce her before she broke his heart and stole his hard-earned money. You see, Alan was a self-made millionaire- he didn’t inherit a single thing. He made his fortune on his own, using his brilliant mind, which is why it perplexed me so much that he found himself in this situation, to begin with.

“The crucial first step is talking to her, Alan,” I advised…again. “You can’t force her to show you love in the way you want her to. You need to be honest and articulate your needs. Communication is always key, but you still don’t think you can do that?” I asked, even though I was well aware of the answer.

Alan let out a loud sigh again, and in those moments, he looked his age of 70. His wrinkles showed more prominent when he was upset and he moved awkwardly like he was in physical pain.

“Unfortunately, I’m unable to do so,” he replied, his shoulders slumping further. “Every time I try to talk to her, she cries and then I give up because I feel terrible.”

I nodded and watched him for a moment. His eyes were watery and I felt terrible for the man.

“I’d like you to consider inviting her to one of our sessions,” I told him.

His eyes brightened when he responded, “I’d like that, but I do have to think about it. She’ll get upset knowing I see you once a week.”

“She doesn’t know you come here?”

Alan grinned from ear to ear. “No, but the introduction between you two should be quite entertaining.”

I couldn’t help but laugh with him, though I knew it wasn’t going to be entertaining for me.

By six-thirty, I had returned home to get ready for an evening out with my best friend, Selena. Her brother, Greg, was visiting from St. Louis and planned to join us at one of our favorite bars in the city.

I always felt an overwhelming loneliness within the confines of my apartment, so I quickly picked out a cute sunset-orange dress, shivering when its lace hem skimmed my thighs. I paired it with white wedges and some mascara. I always left my long blonde hair alone, it was wavy and looked like I spent time styling it, but I never actually did. Naturally, I was a brunette, but I managed to pull off the blonde, as well.

I left my apartment in a hurry, eager to evade the feeling that I hated to feel. It only lingered when alone, and would quickly disappear the moment I distracted myself.

An hour later, we entered the rooftop bar. The air outside was refreshingly warm compared to the chilly embrace of the elevator’s air conditioning. The hostess guided Greg, Selena, and me to a high-rise table at the bar’s edge. The seats offered us breathtaking views of the sparkling Chicago city lights.

As soon as we were seated, a waitress rushed to take our orders and serve our drinks. Selena and I opted for our usual- green apple Martini, while Greg stuck to his usual- any beer on tap.

“Why didn’t Mark join us? Is he working late again?” I asked, casting a glance at Selena. I had been asking about her boyfriend, Mark, more often lately since I learned more about him from one of my clients. Not to mention, Selena seemed sad and not as energetic as she once was, but I wasn’t allowed to do “therapist talk” with her, so I had to tread lightly.

“He’s a dick,” Greg interjected.

His irritation with her choice of men was more evident than usual.

“He said he had to work late,” she offered, shrugging her shoulders.

Greg turned to me with a look of exasperation.

“My sister has a knack for not listening to advice,” he said. “There’s just something off about him.”

I gave him a knowing smile and said, “I voiced the same concerns.” I turned to her. “We’re just looking out for you, you know that.”

She squeezed my hand and her expression changed, clearly coming back to the now, and away from wherever her head went while talking about Mark.

We spent the time catching Greg up on our lives and he filled us in on his life back in St. Louis. I couldn’t help but smile at my two friends, whom I’ve known basically my whole life. Selena was my rock. She was funny, kind, and beautiful. Her chestnut hair shined and she didn’t need a stitch of makeup. Greg, on the other hand, was equally as beautiful, but he had blonde hair like the sun and bright blue eyes. They were polar opposites.

After some light conversation about our jobs, Greg broached the dreaded topic of dating.

“So, when can we expect the elusive Natalia to reenter the dating world?” He inquired with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I should have known it would come up. The conversation was always inevitable. And though we joked about it, Greg and Selena both knew why the thought alone petrified me.

“Do we have to do this every time we get together?” I asked, knowing the answer well.

Greg smiled and said, “Yep, it seems that way. I don’t want you to get stuck in the past.”

Thankfully, we didn’t continue with that line of questioning because all of our heads turned in unison at a commotion nearby. Cameras flashed, and a small crowd had gathered around a table.

Selena bounced in her seat.

“Do you think it’s someone famous?” She mused.

“I’m not sure,” I began to say. The group of men from that table stood. “But I think we’re about to find out.”

They had to walk past us to exit the bar. I wanted to be discreet, but I also wanted to know what the big deal had been about, so I looked up, and when I did, our eyes connected. His deep blue’s held mine and I yelled at myself to look away, but I couldn’t. There was almost a hold, a hold I knew all too well, as I’d felt that level of intensity only one other time in my life- and it ended up destroying me.

The man stopped abruptly near our table and told the others he’d catch up with them later, all while still holding eye contact with me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“Damn,” Selena whispered.

It was embarrassing but my heart had been racing. He took two steps closer, and finally released me from his stare, turning his attention to someone else.

“Gregory Johnson,” the man greeted. “What brings you to Chicago?”

Holy hell- he knew Greg. I wondered if I had imagined that intense moment or if it was in fact real.

I had a brief opportunity to look him over without his eyes on mine. He was a striking man, probably in his mid to late thirties. He had dark brown hair slightly tousled and it gave him an air of rugged charm. I could just barely make out an athletic physique beneath the crisp, tailored lines of his black suit.

Greg rose to greet him, and they stood about the same height, which I knew from Greg was 6’2”. I accidentally noticed there was no ring on his large hand.

“What’s happening, my man?” Greg asked enthusiastically, while they shook hands, smiling at one another like they were old friends. “I’m here visiting my occasionally exasperating sister and our delightful friend.”

Selena shot Greg her mock disapproval before holding her hand out for the man to take. “Hi, I’m Selena, the occasionally exasperating sister.”

He turned to me and I followed suit, offering him my hand to take. It felt weird since I was still sitting, but if I had stood up, our chests would have been touching and I could not handle that.

“And I’m Natalia, supposedly the delightful friend,” I told him.

His grip was firm, and he held my hand a few seconds longer than customary for a handshake.

“Delightful, indeed,” he said. “I’m Michael. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

I felt as if I were teetering on the brink of a heart attack, or a panic attack. I wasn’t sure, but Michael’s presence was overwhelming.

“Care to join us for a drink?” Greg asked.

“Absolutely,” Michael replied with a grin. He pulled out the chair right beside mine and took a seat. As soon as he settled in, the waitress appeared at his side, resting a hand on his well-defined shoulder. I couldn’t imagine having the gall to do that, but good for her.

“What can I get you to drink, sir?” She asked in a pitch that was higher than when she had taken our order.

“A Smithwick’s Irish Ale,” he ordered. “Twenty ounces, please.”

Michael removed his suit jacket and placed it behind him on the back of the chair. Casually, he rolled up the bottom of his sleeves a few inches, and for whatever reason even his wrists looked sexy in that moment.

He caught me staring again, and I prayed a red blush wasn’t creeping up on my cheeks.

“So, Natalia, how do you all know each other?” He asked.

At least that was something I could speak confidently and happily about.

“We’ve been friends since grade school,” I told him. “I haven’t been able to shake them since.”

Michael nodded. “And you call this great city of Chicago home?”

“I do now.”

I wanted to ask him the same, but I refused to appear overly curious to a man with his elegance and bravado.

“Chicago’s always been my home,” he said, saving me from asking.

We watched each other for what felt like minutes, but was only seconds. I didn’t even see anyone else in that bar when he looked at me. What the hell was wrong with me?

“What do you do for work, Michael?” Selena asked, jumping into the awkward silence we had no doubt created.

He turned to my best friend and said, “I actually work with your brother.” Greg snorted from the other side of the table. “What about you?”

“I teach English. Juniors and seniors,” She replied, rolling her eyes, though she loved her job.

“I suppose intelligence runs in your family,” Michael quipped with a chuckle. “Greg is quite brilliant, although he rarely likes to show it.”

They shared a laugh before Michael redirected his attention back to me.

“Natalia, let me guess, you’re an artist?”

I laughed. “Not even close. I’m a therapist.”

Michael’s interest was piqued. He leaned in closer and asked, “What’s your specialty?”

“Complex trauma and sexual trauma.”

Those blue eyes danced with interest while he ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.

“Do you enjoy what you do?” He asked.

“I love it. Since the majority of my patients are trauma victims, it can be challenging, but I find it incredibly rewarding.”

“I have a fundraiser that benefits trauma victims. I’d love to get your input at some point.”

That was definitely not what I was expecting to hear from him, but what did I expect to hear? I didn’t know a damn thing about him. I’ll tell you, I was relieved he wasn’t one of those men who got all giggly when I would tell them, “sexual trauma” - like it was a damn joke or something.

“That sounds great. I’d love to,” I said, and I actually meant it.

As more small talk passed about our jobs and our lives, I found myself being pulled in by this stranger, all while knowing I shouldn’t get involved again. My nightmares always found a way to remind me of that.

Selena and I chatted about our day while Michael and Greg dove into a conversation about a new work project. Greg was an engineer for a large corporation and I assumed Michael was as well. Although, compared to the other engineers I knew, Michael would be considered a bit fancier, based on the way he dressed, at least.

Every minute or so, I’d glance over and my eyes would lock with Michael’s again before I diverted back to Selena. She was my safe space on that rooftop. She was always my safe space.

“-full-time at the Chicago office?”

I hadn’t heard the whole sentence, but I didn’t need to. We lit up like fireworks when we heard what Michael had asked.

“Are you serious?” Greg yelled, his excitement evident to the entire bar. “I would love to transfer back here. These two girls need me, anyway,” he added.

I shook my head at him and rolled my eyes.

“I could use you around here. You’re more valuable than you realize.” Michael paused for a brief moment to look at his phone. “Shit. I hate to cut this short, but I have a lot of work to do. I’ll set up the transfer. Take all the time you need, but on my end, we’ll be ready by next week.”

“I guess I’ll start looking for an apartment,” Greg said gratefully. “Thanks again, man. This will be great. It’ll be nice hanging out with you, and seriously, I like to keep an eye on these two.”

Michael’s lips curved into a devilish smile. “Yes, they look like they’d be a handful.”

I hated how a few simple words could turn me on.

The two men rose and shook hands. Michael walked over to Selena, kissed her cheek, and expressed how wonderful it was to meet her. Then he turned to me.

“Natalia, would you do me the pleasure of walking with me for a moment?”

That was all it took to make my anxiety spike. I didn’t know how I could be alone with him.

“Sure,” I said, even though I was definitely not sure.

He extended his arm, and I hesitantly linked mine with his. He led me inside the lobby of the building. He came to a sudden stop and faced me.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said.

Caught off guard, I replied, “Oh, I’m not really looking to date right now.”

“Neither am I.”

“So you want to see me again as a friend?”

“No.” He closed his eyes briefly before reopening them. “I’m not exactly looking to be your friend either.”

I was a little offended, but I wasn’t sure why I felt that way.

“What exactly are you looking for then?” I asked him. “If you want a quick fling, look around you. I’m not the one for that, but we both know how attractive you are. You could have anyone in this place.”

His grin widened. “So you find me attractive?”

I stood straighter and raised a brow. “Anyone with eyes would find you attractive. Now stop fishing for compliments.”

“Why do I get the sense that you’re a real wild card, Natalia?”

“I could say the same for you,” I told him.

We squared off, both watching each other, waiting for what would come next.

“Just one date,” he blurted out.

“No.”

I knew what I was doing. I knew this would only make him want me more. And the truth was that I did want to go out with him, but I didn’t at the same time. I couldn’t even get my own damn emotions in check, let alone deal with someone else’s. And sure, he looked absolutely delicious, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole. I didn’t have time for assholes.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “Tomorrow, eight o’clock, with Selena and Greg in tow?”

“Like a friend’s date?” I asked.

“If that’s my only option.”

I smiled and said, “See you at eight then.”

Assuming that was the end of our little interaction, I readied myself to walk away, but his eyes held me still. He was watching me, but not in a creepy what-the-fuck-are-you-doing type of way. It was more of an I-want-to-devour-you type of way. I was excited and terrified at the same time. Good lord, it had been so long since I’d been devoured.

Panic crept in as he leaned closer, but instead of attempting to kiss me, I felt his warm breath on my neck, giving me goosebumps. And maybe some wet panties, too… if I had been wearing any.

“Tomorrow night,” he whispered and promised all at once, with two simple words.

He backed away with a grin that couldn’t be described with words. I wanted to match it to avoid appearing weak to a powerful man, but I couldn’t. Instead, I turned and went back to our table. I sat down thinking one thing and one thing only: What the fuck am I getting myself into?

Selena jumped up and down in her chair. “So, um, did anyone else notice that he’s in love with Nat? Or was that just me?”

Greg rolled his eyes. “He definitely wants Nat, but he’s a womanizer so I’d say he’s far from in love.”

“How do you two know he’s into me?” I asked though I knew they were partially right.

“It’s obvious.”

“So what’s his deal, anyway?” I asked Greg—the only person who actually knew Michael.

“We met back at Yale. He had his hand in everything business-wise. He started his company from the ground up. The base of everything is Kane Industries, which as you know, is where I work. The St. Louis division is great, but his Chicago office is the creme de la creme of the business world.”

Selena grunted. “He’s so handsome, Nat. Please go for him,” she begged.

And that was the beginning of their brother/sister bickering. It would last for hours if you let it.

“He’s a womanizer, Selena. Why would you push that on her?”

“You’re so full of shit. You don’t want her dating someone like him. You’re too protective. Or jealous.”

“I’m not jealous and I have to be protective when you’re pushing your shitty, wrong, taste in men on her.”

“Okay!” I yelled, intervening between the two. “Thank you both for your obnoxious input, but his womanizing ways will not affect me. I can’t be in a relationship.”

Both of their features softened.

“Can’t or won’t?” My best friend asked quietly.

It was a rhetorical question, I didn’t have to answer.

I swirled the fruity martini around my mouth, letting the alcohol sting my throat when I swallowed. My friends continued to argue quietly. I tuned them out to think about my dilemma. I knew a man like Michael could be dangerous. He was wealthy, powerful, and sexy as hell. He moved with a sense of authority, like he’d never take someone’s shit. And I’d already known a man like that.

Was I ready to start dating again? Could I handle it? Would it be safe to do so? I wasn’t sure, but I sure as hell had to start figuring out the answers to those questions.

As I reentered my silent apartment later that night, the loneliness crept up again, but thankfully didn't last long as my phone began to ring.

When I answered, Selena was whispering on the other end of the line.

"Now that Greg's out of earshot, please tell me what happened with Michael."

I laughed before letting it spill.

"He asked to see me again and I said no. We agreed we weren't looking for relationships, but then I asked if he wanted to be my friend-"

"Dear lord, please tell me he said no," Selena interjected.

"Obviously."

She sighed audibly. "You are so out of the game. You need some practice," she told me with a laugh.

"Clearly."

I changed into my favorite sleeping shirt, an old Northwestern t-shirt with the letters practically falling off.

"So anyway," I continued, "I informed him of how handsome he was and that he could have anyone he wanted. He doubled down and asked me if I'd go out with him again if you and Greg joined us.

"And?" She asked excitedly.

"So we're all going out again tomorrow. Hope you don't have plans."

I hopped into bed as she told me how Mark was working late all week, and that she would love to go out again.

"He likes you, you know that right?" She asked.

"He's met me once, Sel."

"You're amazing. He doesn't have to know you long."

And that's what best friends are for. They are always your biggest fan, and they also have no problem telling you when you're being nuts.

We said goodnight, and I had a smile on before going to sleep for the first time in a very long time.