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sister was on the prowl for a girlfriend for him did not meet their standards.
“Tell your brother to take out an ad in the personals,” one of them said, as they giggled among themselves. “Maybe he’ll luck out there.”
“We’re holding out for Mike Fortune,” said another. “Or a Mike Fortune type.”
“I think he really does kind of look like Mike Fortune,” Julia called after them, as they hurried on their way. She’d managed to sound credibly forlorn, as the sister of a perennially dateless Denny might.
“He only looks like Mike Fortune if you’re drunk out of your mind, like Wendy is,” one of the girls shouted back.
“Wendy also thought the pizza-delivery guy looks like Tom Cruise,” exclaimed another, and they all laughed raucously.
The girls disappeared around a bend, leaving Julia and Michael alone.
“Denny?” Michael tried to look stern, but he couldn’t quite pull it off.
“It was the first name that popped into my head,” Julia confessed. “And then, somehow you became Denny.” She dissolved in laughter. “You had that glazed look in your eye and your mouth was hanging open. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you started babbling about getting your jollies from opening mail from all of Mike Fortune’s female admirers.”
“My jollies?” he repeated incredulously. Suddenly, he couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled within him.
They were both too breathless from laughing to run, so they walked along the path, making bad jokes. “I know Mike Fortune, Mike Fortune is a boss of mine and you are no Mike Fortune,” Julia paraphrased. “You are a faux Denny.”
“I think I’d rather be a faux Denny than an idiotic sycophant,” countered Michael. “Although if Uncle Jake were to see us carrying on like this, he’d write us both off as giddy nitwits.”
“No one could ever accuse you of being either giddy or a nitwit,” Julia assured him.
“I suppose not.” Michael frowned thoughtfully, turning serious once more. “I can’t even be accused of smiling, according to my stepmother, Barbara. She told me to lighten up, that lately she could count on one hand the number of times I’ve smiled.”
“There hasn’t been much to smile about at the Fortune Corporation this past year,” Julia murmured.
“No, there hasn’t. We’ve had a series of incidents ranging from calamitous to catastrophic.” A grim and somber Michael proceeded to list them. “There was that fire set in the laboratory by an intruder who was never caught, and Grandmother Kate’s plane crash. Then my cousin Allison was stalked by some nut.”
“At least that calamity had a happy ending,” Julia replied. “Allison married her bodyguard, Rafe.”
“Marriage. A happy ending.” Michael arched his brows in that superior, sardonic way of his. “I suppose you would view it that way.”
Julia refrained from pointing out that according to his “better dead than wed” sentiments, his view of a happy ending was a permanent trip to the cemetery.
“Meanwhile, the company’s stock values keep dropping.” Michael heaved a worried sigh. “And of course, there’s that latest mysterious break-in at the lab. Whoever was responsible caused some deliberate destruction that’s resulted in further setbacks in the development of the special youth formula.”
Julia nodded knowingly. She was aware that the company had been working on the youth formula for years, and that Kate Fortune had made her fatal flight to Brazil to procure a rare vital ingredient for it. All told, it was beginning to look as though the Fortune family, blessed for so long with the very best life had to offer, had somehow become cursed instead.
“And on top of everything else,” Michael continued, “I was named one of the top-ten most eligible bachelors in the U.S.A., prompting an avalanche of unwanted attention.”
“And the unprecedented abuse of the voice-mail system,” Julia added.
She sounded serious and sympathetic, but Michael caught the gleam in her gray eyes. “I can tell you don’t think the bachelor list belongs in my account of family troubles, but it’s been a severe inconvenience, Julia,” he said defensively.
“Oh, I know. I’ve been fending off your eager admirers by phone and by fax, too.”
He had the uncomfortable feeling that she was patronizing him. “Tonight, right here on this path, I was almost mobbed,” Michael reminded her. He was determined that Julia understand the full extent of his plight. “If those girls hadn’t been drinking, they never would’ve bought your Denny ruse.”
“Probably not.”
“I’m getting desperate, Julia. I can’t take this continual harassment. I came out here to run tonight because I felt like a hostage trapped in my own apartment. I couldn’t face the stack of mail there—oh yes, I get mail at home as well as at work, and at home I don’t have Denny and his gang to dispose of it for me.”
He started to run again, and Julia picked up her pace to keep up with him.
“There were women hanging around the lobby of my apartment building when I left,” he continued grimly. “I had to sneak out wearing a jumpsuit and cap I borrowed from Al’s Auto Parts. Al and his sons have been servicing the company cars for years and were very understanding when I explained my need for a disguise.”
“A mechanic’s jumpsuit and hat is a good disguise. Do you have a fake mustache and glasses to go with it?”
Her expression was so demure and her tone so sincere that he couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or not. Since he didn’t view Julia as the teasing type, he decided to answer her seriously. “Believe me, I’ve considered buying them. If this mayhem keeps up, I may have to.”
“Maybe you should consider buying a wig, too. How about a long, blond, California-beach-boy style, like Kato Kaelin? Nobody would know you then.”
“Now I know you’re being glib.” Michael studied her intently. “You’re very good at subtext, Julia—saying one thing while conveying something else altogether. I never knew that until tonight. Have you been mocking me for the past year while I remained oblivious?”
“Of course not! We idiotic sycophants are too stupid and too smarmy for subtext.”
Michael laughed. He was enjoying himself, he realized with some surprise. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
They reached a lighted parking lot. “My car is here,” Michael said, pointing to his vintage, candy-apple red Corvette. “I was on my way back to it when I met you. I insist on driving you home.”
She accepted his offer with a polite, “Thank you.”
“I’ll refrain from delivering a lecture about the dangers to a woman out alone at night,” he said lightly.
The words were no sooner out of his mouth when Michael realized that he wanted to deliver that lecture. The idea of Julia falling prey to some criminal on the prowl sickened him. “But you really shouldn’t go out alone after dark, Julia. You took a foolish risk in doing so tonight.”
“I took a self-defense class a couple years ago,” she explained. “I don’t like having to curtail my freedom, so I decided to make sure I can protect myself.”
“Isn’t the first principle of self-defense to avoid placing yourself in a dangerous situation?” Michael frowned. “Your class has given you a false sense of confidence, Julia. Promise that you won’t go running alone at night again.”
“Mmm,” Julia murmured noncommittally, putting her hand in back of her and crossing her fingers, undoing her vague promise even as she gave it. After all, it wasn’t Michael’s business where she spent her off-work hours.
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