* * *
"Where was your seat? I never saw you." Jacob asked me. We were currently sitting in a train on its way to Munich, we've been here for three hours and we still had two hours and twenty minutes left. "Well, I didn't see much at all, to be honest. I slept through the whole thing."
I didn't know why we hadn't just flown directly to Munich instead of doing this tortuous plane-train adventure. Part of me had a feeling the reason had something to do with Ethan not wanting to spend more time than needed inside of a plane. I couldn't blame him. It was literally a forty-five minute difference. I guess that time really makes a change in life-death situations.
"I was in one of the first seats," I wasn't really lying. First class was at the beginning of the plane. "You look adorable when you sleep, by the way." I remembered being tempted by the idea of grabbing my phone and taking a photo of my sleeping friend when I went to the toilet. He snorted at my comment and turned his back to me to rest his head against the window. He was going to sleep. Again.
I had spent the whole flight next to Ethan. I dared to say he didn't let go of my hand throughout the complete flight. I would try to distract him in any way possible. I talked to him about literally anything, just to keep his mind off the fact that our feet weren't on the ground. I would ask him questions, draw circles on his hands with my fingers, we even watched a couple of movies. I knew he wasn't really paying attention-neither was I, but I'm also sure that it helped him in a way.
In consequence of the first turbulence, he asked for a scotch. The rest just followed up.
After three hours, two movies, and god knows how much alcohol, he gave in to his bloodshot eyes and fell asleep-or more like passed out- our hands resting on my knee. I waited a while, and when I had made sure he was in deep sleep, I gave in too.
It was a good thing the first class was visually separated from the economy one, because otherwise, I couldn't have sat down next to him.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding when the plane finally landed. Ethan looked completely relieved, like someone had taken every single weight he was holding off his shoulders.
And then, as soon as his feet stepped out of the plane, professor Vennberg was back. We were the first ones to walk out, so no one could see us together.
He didn't let any student see him in that state. All of them were completely oblivious, and to be honest, he made a hell of a job in switching his attitude.
His superior walk, critical face and arrogant smirk-that never failed to make my knees weak- made its way back into his system in a matter of seconds. But I didn't miss the fact that as soon as we got out of the airport, he walked away from the group to light a cigarette.
I never took him for a smoker. Doctors usually don't pick that kind of lifestyle. Yeah who am I kidding-we're probably the ones whose liver is most damaged from all the drinking. Same goes with cigarettes.
My eyes caught his as he inhaled the noxious thing. He looked hot as fuck, there's no point in denying it. He gave me a smirk before dropping the cigarette and graciously stepping his foot to the ground to die it down.
I looked through the window as the events refilled my mind, enjoying the German landscapes. I switched position in the seat and closed my eyes.
* * *
The hotel was as fancy as I thought it would be. Considering the activities themselves were going to take place in here -and how this site was full of the most prestigious doctors from all around the world- I assumed we were probably not going to be able to leave the hotel, and if we were, I guess we would be tired from all the classes, conferences and running around.
"What room are you in?" My friend asked as we made our way to check in.
"404, I think." I said, trying to remember what my e-mail had said. I'm pretty sure it was on the fourth floor, plus the ones at the top were usually for people with money.
"We're going to be neighbors, Lia!" He pronounced way too excitedly. I rolled my eyes. I had given up on telling him to quit it with the name.
"Yay." I notoriously faked.
"You're no fun! We can even have a pajama party..."
"In your dreams."
"See you there, babe." I punched his arm and he groaned.
From the corner of my eye I saw Ethan talking to the receptionist, she was clearly affected by his presence -as any person who is attracted to males would- you could tell by the way her cheeks adopted a pink-ish color. She nodded and then tapped something in the computer in front of her. After some time, Vennberg passed her a credit card to pay for something.
I thought it was all already paid?
He thanked the lady and gave her a wink before turning around. The woman could've fainted right there and then.
«I feel you, sis.»
"Mr. Edwards." His powerful figure acknowledged my friend with such a curt tone that it was suddenly thirty degrees colder. Jacob only managed a faint nod.
"Ms. Knox." His tone, under anyone's eyes, would've sounded just like it did with the blonde. Except for me. I could distinguish his irony. It sent shivers down my spine.
"Sir." I replied, mimicking him. I dared him with my eyes as his briefly darkened at the name I used. He walked past us to make his way to the elevator. His shoulder lightly brushing mine at the act. I stood still until I heard the doors closing behind me.
"I'm surprised he knows my name." My friend muttered. I laughed in response.
"Don't flatter yourself, Jacob." I started. My eye caught a tall and elegant looking figure at the reception. My friend and I stepped right behind him to check in.
"Thank you." The man said in an American accent to the lady. He turned around and let me catch a glimpse of his face. Bright green eyes, dark curly hair, he clearly worked out. You could tell from the muscles poking out of his suit. He was undeniably handsome, but he just wasn't Ethan. And I hated myself for comparing every single man I looked at with him.
I focused my stare once again on the stranger as he looked at us with superiority. He was probably another prestigious doctor.
"Hello, I assume you're here for check in, right?" The receptionist lady spoke with a strong German accent as the man previously described walked away. We nodded in unison. "Last names, please."
"Edwards and Knox." I spoke for my friend.
The lady started clicking on the keyboard.
"Ah yes, here it is. Jacob Edwards, your room is 406," she said and then took out some papers and a pen for him to take. "I'll need you to fill out this form first, please."
Jacob obeyed while I waited patiently for my turn.
"Miss Knox, there's been a modification in your room. It has been switched because of... infrastructure matters." She spoke. "You now have room 1502. Top floor."
I gasped. What the hell?
"I-" I intended to tell her I didn't have any money to pay for a room like that. She probably read my mind as she cut me off.
"Don't worry, Miss. All costs have been paid already." I nodded, dumbfounded.
We filled out the papers and the lady gave us the keys to our room, explained the whole WiFi system and where the conference rooms were.
As we entered the elevators, Jacob finally broke the silence.
"I just don't get how you can be so lucky. Fuck you." I was getting suspicious that me being switched to the top floor had nothing to do with luck.
"Sorry, you can't be me." He scoffed at me before we hit the fourth floor. "Bye, friend." I told him when the elevator's doors opened.
"Yeah whatever." He walked out leaving me laughing.
I gasped as soon as I hit the fifteenth floor, there were only two doors.
I took out the card to open mine. It clicked with a faint 'beep' and a green light turned on, letting me know it was unlocked.
I couldn't believe my eyes. The sight before me looked more like a floor-through apartment than an actual hotel room. I let my bags fall carelessly to the ground to get a better look.
There was a king sized bed -or even bigger-, along with two night stands on each side. There was a glass wall that let me enjoy Munich at its greatest. There was a little coffee table with all the treats from the hotel, next to a sofa and two arm chairs. It created the illusion of a living room. There was a huge smart TV hanging proudly from the wall facing the bed. Finally, I entered the bathroom to find a hot tub, sink and shower all made of white marble. There was a beautiful big round mirror of gold and silver details that was decorated by plants on each side of the sink.
This was madness.
I went back into the room and sat down on the bed to try and assimilate this.
I heard a soft knock on the door. I stood up, still confused and went to open it only to find no other than Ethan Vennberg himself, leaning against the door frame with his infamous stupid smirk. He was wearing a different suit. Blue squared blazer, with a white shirt that had the first three buttons undone, leaving a great sight of his muscular chest. White pants and blue belt.
Why did this man have to dress so well? It was physically painful.
"Amalia." He pronounced as I stood there, without saying anything. "How do you find your room? Have you liked it so far?"
I knew he had something to do with it.
«Why would he do this?»
"I can't accept this, Ethan. Seriously, I'm not going to stay here." I walked back to pick up my baggage from the ground.
His smile faded a bit before he frowned and spoke up. "Why's that?"
"Are you insane? This must cost a fortune, we're staying here for a week!" I was getting frustrated. I didn't want his money. I knew he was loaded, it was no secret, he was one of the most prestigious doctors in the world, and well, I think he must run some business, because there's no way he can afford stuff like this and all of his suits and tuxedos just by being a doctor-or maybe he did. I honestly didn't want him to think that I was, well, that our thing had something to do with his money, because it didn't. I couldn't care less. "Why the fuck would you do something like this?" I held my hand bag to put it over my shoulder, trying to walk past him and out the door.
"I believe we've already talked about this Amalia, and I don't like to repeat myself," he said in a dark tone, walking into the room and closing the door behind him, making me take two steps back. "but it seems you can't get it into that pretty little head of yours now, can you?" My breath hitched in my throat. He came even closer, grabbing my hips, pulling my body against his hard chest. His face went down to the crook of my neck and my pulse started visually rising. "Watch. Your. Mouth." He growled close to my ear. My knees were weak, his intoxicating smell filled my nostrils. I swallowed hard.
I looked up to meet his gaze. Deep blue orbs boiling right into my soul. "Plus, this had nothing to do with me." He started trailing kisses from my earlobe, along my neck as he kept talking. "It was an infrastructure problem, remember?" He pulled away a few inches, only to give me that devilish grin of his before he closed the gap between us and put his lips down on mine.
I knew that all that infrastructure excuse was pure crap. But right now I couldn't seem to care. I have been craving this kind of touch coming from him ever since last week. It had been too long.
I dropped my bag to the floor as my arms made their way up to his neck. He tasted of mint and cigarettes, it was heaven. Our tongues fought, trying to win control over the kiss.
All the worries that had been building up from the past week washed away. All the insecurities of him not wanting me as much as I did, suddenly became ridiculous. All these thoughts of how he must regret our encounter at his office finally dissipated.
His hands started looking for the hem of the white t-shirt I was wearing. Finally reaching my lower back, he slightly pulled the material up to feel my exposed skin. His contact transmitted electricity along my spine, every nerve of my body had been affected by his touch. He had created a chemical dependence in me. My body was yelling for his attention.
This kiss was heated. The need and lust emanated from every single one of our pores, finally consuming their necessities after all this time, one that had seemed like an eternity. I felt the fire building up in my core. My hands pulled from his freshly washed hair as their own ones trailed up and down my back.
It was as if my brain didn't work properly around him. It just shut down, ignoring every single thought that I previously had.
I snapped out and pulled away from him, putting my hand on his shoulder, realizing the first reason why he was here. Getting space from him required an incredible amount of self control.
His eyes bored into mine, he didn't look really pleased from my abrupt act.
"Ethan," I breathed out, looking at him with pleading eyes, letting him know how much I meant what I had said earlier.
"Amalia, it's alright. I wanted to, and I can afford it." He raised his hand to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheek in small circles. "Take it as a 'thank you' gift." His blue orbs showed sincerity, I think this is the most grateful his proud ass will ever allow him to behave.
I sighed.
"I'll drop the subject." He gave me his greatest smile. I melted. "For now." I added, now it was my turn to grin.
"Whatever you say." He reached his pocket and took out something that looked like a credential. "Here," he started, handing me the ID. Taking a better look at it, I noticed it showed my name and the university we were from. At the top, there was the word 'student' written in italic letters. "I'm having them distributed to everyone, but I thought I could give it to you personally." He paused, before adding. "This is your pass to every activity in this hotel, don't lose it." I couldn't deny how attracted I felt to his serious/professor demanding voice.
I nodded. He pecked my lips before turning the door knob to open it. A few moments after stepping outside, he turned back to me.
"Oh and, Amalia." He mumbled. "We're having a welcoming dinner with all the doctors and students from this conference. I'll introduce you to some of my colleagues. Get down in two hours." That said, he closed the door behind him, leaving me speechless, once again.
* * *
There were a lot of people. Doctors, residents, interns and students. I was a nervous wreck ever since Vennberg had told me he would introduce me to his colleagues. That meant he was concerned about my future. Knowing people was key in medicine. It always opened doors for you.
I stared at all the chatting individuals from the top of the stairs of the hotel's salon. Giving myself one last look in the mirror opposite me, I decided to make my way down.
I was wearing a tight red dress that reached a few inches above my knees, it had a V neck and straps instead of sleeves. It was perfect for the occasion: fancy so it fitted this place full of important people, but still casual so I didn't look like I was trying too hard.
I thanked God for giving me such a thoughtful friend. I literally had packed grandma panties, simple T-shirts and jeans, but half an hour before having to leave, Kate decided to open my suitcase. She practically changed all of my clothes.
I went down the stairs, looking for Jacob, but I couldn't seem to find him with my eyes, so I just went straight to the bar and sat down on one of the stools.
"May I buy you a drink?" A deep voice said from behind me.
I turned around to come face to face with the same man who was at the reception today, except now he had acknowledged me and his superior façade was now an arrogant one. I rolled my eyes internally.
He was wearing a blue tuxedo, with blue vest, white shirt and blue bow tie. He looked objectively handsome.
"I don't know you." I answered, giving him a stare. That probably was a bad idea. He must be someone important, giving his looks. I could've accepted his offer kindly. But I wasn't feeling very kind today.
He surprisingly chuckled at my comment. "Harry Sanders." I almost choked at his name. I tried not to be too obvious, but suddenly my whole body was alert and my pulse had risen considerably. He extended out his hand for me to take, and so I did. He gave it a slow peck before letting go of my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss?"
"Amalia, sir." I managed. "Amalia knox." I knew what implied telling him my full name, I had done it on purpose. This guy right here was a general surgery god.
"Ah, a knox. I see." I gave him a smile before talking again.
"How's your trial going?" I asked the man. Harry Sanders was currently working in this type of closed-loop system that could monitor glucose levels and administer insulin, it was basically an artificial pancreas. All controlled from a smartphone.
"I see someone's been doing their homework," His grin widened at the mention of his trial, just like a boy with a new toy. "It's going great, actually. To eventually be triumphant as an optimal treatment for diabetes I, the artificial pancreas has to prove its safety and efficacy in long-term pivotal trials in the patient's daily environment." He said proudly. I stared at him blankly. It's true, his innovation was pretty fucking awesome, I'm going to explain to you how it works.
The artificial pancreas takes away much of the human interaction that is currently necessary in self-medication.
The nexus of the system uses a platform named InControl that manages on a reconfigured smartphone. This portable device is wirelessly connected to a blood sugar monitor, an insulin pump and a remote monitoring site. The blood sugar monitor measures the glucose levels in the blood every 5 minutes and delivers the readings to the device.
The apparatus is controlled by algorithms and administers the correct amount of insulin through a needle without the patient having to spill blood.
It was genius.
"Can you tell me more about the algorithms you use?" I asked, eagerly. "I had studied this, but no website cared about them. And in my opinion, algorithms are one of the most essential parts of the innovation itself."
"You're right." The man said, agreeing with me. "They are designed to second guess how much insulin is likely to be needed. It is not enough for the technology to simply react to blood levels at any particular moment in time, it must predict glucose spikes, preempt changes and adapt to an individual's insulin sensitivity."
"I see."
The man stared at me as if I were a puzzle. "You don't seem so satisfied with my trial." It wasn't a question. He was intrigued on why I wasn't all over him and his little experiment. I mean, I was. It just wasn't enough. The answer was simple.
"It's true that, according to the CDC, 1 in 10 Americans has diabetes. Of these, 5% are type 1 diabetics, which translates to 1.5 million Americans," I started. He was a smart man, he knew where I was going. "But it's also a fact that type 2 diabetes accounts for about 90 to 95 percent of all diagnosed cases of diabetes in adults. Why would I treat this one and not ll? Was it too hard for you?" I was playing a dangerous game, but I was genuinely curious.
I was hoping for him to insult me or just walk away saying that he wasn't going to waste time with a child like me, but he actually smirked. "I like you." He pronounced.
"Excuse me?" I asked dumbfounded.
"What year medical student are you?"
"First." He gasped. He looked truly surprised.
"Well, Amalia." My name rolled out of his tongue. "Thing is, I am actually working on the same artifact for diabetes 2. I can't actually start making it if the first doesn't work." He said, explaining himself. "I like your boldness, you're clearly smart. You have no filter when it comes to something you feel passionate about, it's admirable." He said, examining me. "I have an offer for you."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Come work with me. I'm sure you know I'm co-founder of Blair's medical school in NYC." I did. "I can offer you a full scholarship for you to finish your studies, plus, you can start your internship right away, at the same time, and work with me as a part of the trial."
I wanted to faint. Was this man for real?
"Sir, I'm tremendously honored, but l-"
"You don't have to give me an answer right away." His green orbs presented full dominance over the situation. He knew his offer was one that no one would turn down. He was confident about it. "Tell me, Amalia. Who's your head professor of the program?"
"It's-" I didn't finish the sentence. I could feel his presence from miles away, like magnets pulling towards each other.
"Well, isn't this my dearest Ethan Vennberg." Harry said this with a sarcastic tone.
"Sanders." His words came out of his mouth as if they were poison. It was clear they weren't fond of each other.
"I guess my question has already been answered." Ethan put an arm around my waist protectively. My heart rate quickened and I could feel a small blush filling up my neck.
I was his student.
"What do you want, Harry?" The man beside me asked impetuously.
"You have an extremely bright student, my friend." He said, looking directly at me. "Watch out, or someone might steal her from you." I would've slapped him if I could. I wasn't an object for him to take.
Ethan's arm gripped me even more tightly than before, like he was trying to protect me from Sanders.
"She can do whatever the hell she wants, Sanders. This isn't a game. Grow the fuck up." He roared. I smiled internally, he respected me and he didn't see me as his trophy. And I was extremely grateful. Although, from the way he was holding me, it was clear he didn't want me to go.
Harry's eyes were full of amusement. "Okay then," he took out a small card from his tux's pocket. "Here's my contact information. Call me when you've made up your mind." I extended my arm to take it in robotic moves. "I'll see you around, Amalia." With this, he ended the little war going around here and turned to leave.
* * *
Fun fact: did you know that Harry Sanders' medical advance actually exists and is now currently under trial? (The doctor in charge has a different name, obvs, and I also changed some things for the sake of copyright and my own fiction), but
how cool is that?
Read you later guys!
xx.