Page 49 of The Way We Score

Instead, I wanted to be like Christina Ricci, the champion swimmer. That was who I’d be. I’d be the very best at something, and then he’d be sorry he walked out on us. He’d regret not wanting to be my dad. It’s when I started dancing.

Only, he never saw me dance.

Then he died of cancer.

When I met Garrett and we became more than friends, Mom was so excited. She would tell me all the time Garrett was nothing like my father. He’d take care of me, and he’d never walk out on his family.

I believed her so much. Ibelieved in him. Only she was wrong. Garrett did walk away from me. The only thing that mattered to him were his own dreams, and when my plans didn’t line up with his, he blew up everything.

He didn’t realize I’d already seen what happened when my mom chose my dad’s life over hers. She still ended up with nothing.

Lying on the couch, I don’t know why I’m feeling like I’m going through that breakup all over again. I don’t know why these tears are on my cheeks, and I’m eating ice cream and wallowing. I don’t know why it hurts so much.

I got over Garrett years ago. It took a long time, but my broken heart finally mended.

Leaning my head on the pillow, I touch the tears away with my fingertips. I’m a strong, independent woman. I’m not crying over a memory of who I used to be.

Six weeks later

“Putnam and Barnesdidn’t disclose these new witnesses in time for depositions.” I’m on the phone with Marcus Merritt in Chicago, my co-counsel on a pipeline deal gone wrong. “I’ll have to request a continuation and get back to you.”

“I’ll tell my assistant to keep an eye out for your email.”

I’ve always liked working with Marcus. He’s a good lawyer, and he doesn’t try to bulldoze everyone or be the biggest dog in the room. Possibly, because he’s married to a successful fashion designer. Either way, he’s a good co-counsel.

I do my best to be solid, dependable, and professional. If another lawyer is fucking up, I call him or her on it in a nonconfrontational way. I approach everyone as if they’re acting in good faith. If there’s irregularity, I document it and put it before the judge.

I’m a peacemaker.

And I’m about to vomit.

“Olivia, I have this filing for the new platform off Dauphin Island.” Graham walks into my office like he owns the place. “Porter is concerned we don’t have the proper permits…”

He’s halfway through his speech when I grab the can from under my desk and lean forward, barfing hard into it. It’s loud and groany, and it takes me a minute to get a handle on myself.

“Oh my… lord,” I gasp, reaching for a tissue box behind my desk. “I’m so sorry, Graham.”

I take a moment to blot my eyes and cheeks, then I grab a few more and blow my nose before turning to face my horrified partner.

“Jesus, Liv, do you have a virus?” His hand is raised in front of his nose, barely hiding his scowl. “Perhaps you should take the rest of the day off.”

Frowning down at my ruined trash can, I reach up to feel my head. “I don’t have a fever. I wasn’t feeling bad when I left the house this morning. Maybe I got some bad mayo on my sandwich at lunch?”

I’m so confused, but Graham is the exact opposite. “You need to go home. I’ll let Porter know you’re ill. Follow up tomorrow?”

“Definitely.” Standing, I’m a tad dizzy as I move the briefs into my messenger bag. “I honestly don’t know what just happened.”

“It’s okay.” Graham holds his papers over his nose as he gives me a wide berth. “Don’t come back until you’re well.”

The next day, I am not well.

After stopping by the drug store on my way home, I grabbed a box of Dramamine and another of Imodium just in case the vomit turned into something worse.

Racking my brain, I try to think of anything odd I’ve eaten, but nothing comes to mind.

I was at Mom’s a few weeks, so I had togo grocery shopping and purchase all new perishables. Not that I left anything in the refrigerator that could go bad.

I’m lying on my sofa inexplicably watchingThe Muppet Showon some streaming service when my stomach pinches with hunger.

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