“Yes,” I nodded. “But that’s not the point.”
She took another sip of her drink and set it back on the table.
“So have you always wanted to be a doctor?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Ever since I was eight years old.”
“Wow. That’s not a dream a lot of people had.”
She tensed her shoulders for a moment, then released them. Her eyes reflected the myriad of colored lights from the casino, and part of her seemed to drift away. “My father died of throat cancer when I was eight. His months of treatment are the most vivid memories I have from childhood. I asked the doctors if they were going to save him, and they said, ‘we’re going to do our best.’ Three months after the cancer had been detected, he was gone.” She took a deep breath, then brought her eyes, now pained, up to meet mine. I could feel the pain of her father’s death emanating through her, and my chest began to ache.
I had no words for her, so I just silently nodded.
She went on. “I would go into the hospital and watch the doctors all day. One time I asked a doctor why they could save some people and not others, and she said, ‘Sometimes cancer gets a hold of people, and sometimes they are able to fight it. There’s no logic to who dies and who lives.’ I didn’t accept that, I told her I was going to be a doctor one day and save other people’s daddies. So that’s what I did.”
I leaned back and took a long pull of my drink. “Color me impressed. I now feel awful about having said all that shit about doctors.”
“Thank you.”
I leaned forward. “You didn’t deserve all that. I was just pissed about my stupid trade.”
“I can see why you might be angry about that.”
“Here’s what we can do. Slap me.”
She recoiled. “Excuse me?”
“Slap. My face. Lightly.”
“I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You do realize I get into fights every other day on the ice, don’t you?”
She shrugged. “It’ll really make you feel better?”
I nodded.
“Alright.” She made contact with my cheek—a nice solid skin on skin slap.
“Ohhh yeah!” I said, reveling in the sting she laid on me. “I’m really into this kind of thing. You have no idea.”
She laughed loudly, but our server rushed over to my side. “Mr. LeBlanc, shall I have her removed?”
Most times I loved the VIP treatment I got everywhere. Today, though, it was just annoying. “No no,” I said, then leaned in, and whispered to the server, making sure my voice was loud enough that Doctor Red Hotcould hear.
“We’re into some really kinky stuff. Imagine, if this is what we do in public, how rough we get behind closed doors.” I leaned back and wiggled my eyebrows.
The man’s face seemed half confused, half disgusted.
Dr. Vidal decided to get in on the action. “Usually he likes it when he’s tied up for his slaps. But he just couldn’t wait tonight.”
“This is why I love you, babe,” I said, the words just sliding out of my mouth too easily.
The server cleared his throat, looking confused as could be. “Of course. Carry on, then.”
We laughed heartily once he left.
“How’d you know my sexual proclivities already, Doctor Vidal?” I asked. “Are you just that good at diagnosing people from a casual conversation?”
