The Million-Dollar Catch. Susan Mallery
“I love you guys,” Julie said.
“We love you, too,” Marina told her. “I’m just so mad. Maybe Willow and I could take him together.”
“I don’t think so.”
Willow leaned against Julie’s shoulder. “I hate Todd, too. He’s a part of this. How could Grandma Ruth want any of us to marry someone who’s so jerky?”
“Maybe she doesn’t know,” Marina murmured.
“Maybe it’s the reason she offered the money,” Julie said. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over. I’m never going to see Ryan again.”
Or think of him. Except she had a feeling that forgetting him was going to be more difficult than she wanted it to be. If only she could go back in time and never show up for that stupid date.
Willow squeezed her arm. “You want us to not tell Mom? You know how she worries.”
“That would be great,” Julie said. “I’ll probably have to mention it eventually, but if I could wait a while, it would be easier.”
“Sure,” Marina said. “Whatever you want.”
Julie managed a smile. “So you two feel so sorry for me I could get you to do anything, huh?”
Her sisters nodded.
If she’d been feeling better, she might have teased them or come up with a crazy task. Instead she let them comfort her and told herself that in time, she would put all this behind her and forget she’d ever known Ryan Bennett.
Julie stared out of the window of her office and did her best to get excited about the view. Sure, she could mostly see the building next door, but to the right she could see clear to Long Beach.
She’d been promoted the previous week and had moved into larger quarters. She now had a shared assistant and a nice raise. She also had big plans to celebrate this weekend with a shopping spree. Willow and Marina had already promised to come with her.
This was all good. She was smart, successful, moving upward in her chosen career. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about Ryan?
It had been three weeks since that disastrous night and morning when he’d swept into her life and made her think this time things would be different. Three weeks of remembering, of dreaming about him, of wanting him.
That’s what she resented most—that her own body betrayed her. She could stay sane during the day but when she finally fell asleep, he invaded her dreams as she relived what it had been like to be with him. She woke up several times a night, aroused, hungry for his touch. These were not the signs of a woman forgetting a man.
“I want him gone,” she whispered into the silence.
But how to make that happen? Until she’d found out he was a lying bastard, he’d been the best night of her life.
He was also persistent. He’d phoned three times and sent a basket filled with chocolate, wine and season one of Gilligan’s Island on DVD.
She placed her hand on the cool glass. Things had to get better, right? She couldn’t remember him forever. It was a matter of discipline and maybe a little less coffee. She could always call Willow—the queen of all things organic—and ask if there was some kind of sleep aid to get her through this rough patch.
Julie turned to return to her desk, only she didn’t exactly make it. As she took a step, the room seemed to shift and sway.
Her first thought was an earthquake, but there wasn’t any noise. Her second thought was that she’d never felt so dizzy in her life. Her vision narrowed and she realized she was very possibly going to faint.
Somehow she made it to her chair where she collapsed. After a couple of deep breaths, her head cleared, but now her stomach felt all queasy.
She did a quick review of what she’d eaten that day and wondered if she had food poisoning. When that seemed unlikely, she considered a quick-onset flu. It was early in the season, but it could happen.
Wasn’t there a prescription she could take? Something that would cut down how long she would be sick. Eyeing the stack of work awaiting her attention, she picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.
“Hi, Mom, it’s me. I’m good. Kind of. Is there a flu going around?”
“How do you feel?” her mother asked two hours later as Julie sat in one of Dr. Greenberg’s examining rooms. One of the advantages of her mother being the man’s office manager was Julie and her sisters never had to wait to get an appointment.
She’d been weighed, had her blood pressure taken, peed in a cup. Talk about thorough. “I feel weird,” Julie admitted. “Queasy, but otherwise fine. I keep waiting to throw up, but I don’t.”
“Poor girl,” Naomi said soothingly as she held her hand against her daughter’s forehead.
“I’m twenty-six, Mom. Not really girl material.”
Her mother smiled. “You’ll always be my little girl.”
Julie laughed. Right now the fussing was kind of nice.
“Let me get you something carbonated,” her mother said as she headed for the door. “It might settle your stomach.”
Julie watched her go. All three sisters had inherited their mother’s blond hair and blue eyes. They were variations on a theme, ranging from Willow’s pale blond to Julie’s medium, to Marina’s dark gold hair. Julie and Marina had inherited their father’s height, while Willow was petite.
In her high-school science class, Julie had been fascinated by how two people could have produced three daughters who were so similar in some ways and different in others.
“Here you go.” Her mother returned with an iced drink in a cartoon-character paper cup. “Dr. Greenberg will be right in.”
Just then the older man stepped into the room. “Julie, you never come see me anymore. What’s up with that? Now that you’re a fancy lawyer, you don’t have any time for a mere doctor?”
“I do move in very special circles,” she said with a grin.
Her mother waved and ducked out of the room. Dr. Greenberg took Julie’s hand and leaned forward to kiss her on her cheek.
“So you’re not feeling too good?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s weird. I can’t tell if it’s food poisoning or the flu. I thought maybe you could tell me and then give me a prescription.”
He scowled at her, an expression she remembered from when she’d been little and had been scratching her rampant case of poison ivy.
“Not everything can be solved with a pill, young lady.”
She fingered the long sleeve of her silk blouse. “Does this make me look too young? First Mom and now you. Do I look sixteen?”
“I’m lecturing you,” he said. “You could listen and pretend to be intimidated.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He shook his head and settled on the stool. “You girls.”
She smiled.
Dr. Greenberg had been a part of their lives for as long as Julie could remember. He was a warm, caring widower. When she’d finally figured out her father would always show up only to leave again, she’d started hoping her mother would divorce him and marry Dr. Greenberg.
“All right.” He flipped through her chart. “You’re basically healthy. Good blood pressure. You getting enough sleep?”
She thought about the Ryan dreams. “Too much.”
“Like I believe that. You work too hard, but you can slow down a little. The firm will survive.”
“Slow