Page 11 of When Hearts Collide

Weather gods, have I wronged you somehow? What’s up with me and electronics today?

Gritting my teeth, I poke at the power button again, trying the “imagine this is an ex” trick from this morning.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

Absolutely nothing.

“Arrrrrgh,” I growl as I continue to inflict violence on my laptop. The rainwater probably started its demise and the impact on the hard floors most likely finished it off.

“This is such BS,” I mutter and shake the uncooperative machine, a last-ditch effort to revive it.

Suddenly, the hairs on my forearms stand at attention and the air thins around me.

I feel him before I see him.

A whiff of woodsy cologne with hints of citrus hits my nose and I can’t help but take a deep inhale, wanting to savor the scent.

“Is there anything you want to share with the class, Miss Callahan?” The smooth, lethal voice which will probably appear in my nightmare tonight questions from my right.

I close my eyes and grimace before slowly turning to look at a fuming Professor Anderson, whose countenance has only gotten darker and angrier with time.

Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head and whisper, “Nothing to share.”

His nostrils flare and a muscle twitches in his forehead before he whirls around and strides back up to his throne in front of the classroom.

The thumping in my chest intensifies and suddenly, my skin is hot to the touch and I’m no longer feeling cold.

“We’ll be going over ten business ethics theories with roots in philosophy. Now, one might ask, why go through all the fuss to dissect ethical decision-making in the business world?” Professor Anderson pauses, his torso hunched over the redwood podium, his hands gripping the sides.

There’s an energy about him—intense and captivating—which beckons you to drop everything you’re doing to listen to him. He surveys the class, lasering everyone in their chairs as the collective room suspends their breaths in anticipation.

His lips, pressed into a thin line, twitch, like he’s satisfied with our response, and he leans forward even more as if to divulge a secret.

“Imagine a world where the main goal of small businesses is to grow into large corporations and because of the laws of capitalism, there’s a mad race to capture market share, to increase the bottom line, where dollars and cents matter most above everything else. Where the pure definition of success is driven by how padded your pocketbooks are, how much return you can bring to your investors, and how high you can get your market valuation to be. A pay to play type of world.”

Slowly, he steps away from the podium and paces back and forth on stage. Smirking, he gestures wildly in the air as he commands the room. “Don’t have to imagine too hard, right? Because that’s the world we live in. But without ethical guidelines, these businesses could run amok, shattering the very bones of our infrastructure. When money becomes the sole driver of success and decision-making, the edifice of society and the world is already on the verge of collapsing.”

He shakes his head, as if knowing something we all don’t know, and I find myself clutching my broken laptop, wanting to know what’ll happen to this world we’re living in.

“You might think, isn’t this hypocritical of you, Professor? Your family owns one of the largest corporations in the world, one of the beasts reigning over the fray.”

His lips tip up in a derisive half-sneer and he stops his pacing. “And that’s precisely what makes me the best person to teach this class. To explain why companies need appropriate ethical frameworks in place. Capitalism is wonderful within defined regulations.”

I can’t see his eyes clearly from here, but I can see the brightness in his gaze, the muscles in his chest and arms rippling with energy like he’s bursting at the seams, his hands swiveling in the air as if he’s presenting a theory that’ll change our lives and the future of mankind.

The way he comes alive.

Living. Breathing. Breathtaking.

My pulse beats a heavy drum in my ears and I release a breathy exhale, every inch of me mesmerized by the rising and falling of his voice, the fiery passion emanating from his entire being, the myriad of expressions fluttering across his face, like they’re desperate to escape the cold facade he usually has them buried under.

“God, he’s so hot,” the blonde next to me whispers. “Imagine all that energy and passion focused on you.”

I nod, completely entranced by my professor, wanting to absorb every ounce of knowledge from him. I don’t even want to pay her any attention.

She continues, clearly undeterred by my lack of response, “My dad is a member at The Orchid and there are rumors he’s a beast in bed and gets off from chasing willing women in their sex club. I totally wouldn’t mind him hunting me down.”

Chasing? Hunting? Her words unwittingly bury themselves in my brain. Lewd images loom in my vision. A brimming masculine power hovering above me, a deep, raspy voice whispering in my ear, taking the control away from me. I gulp, my thighs clenching at the sudden ache appearing low in my belly.

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