Chapter 1
June
D id I have social anxiety or was I just an introvert? I don’t know. But my work required me to face the public sometimes, and to conquer that fear, I had to fight and convince the trillions of tiny reluctant cells within my body.
Sunglasses. Hat. Facemask. Check. Check. Check.
I knew that I looked like someone who was about to commit a serious crime. Then a part of me also knew that in this day and age, wearing a face cover was just part of daily life for many, especially for someone like me who worked in a medical setting.
My blood pressure monitor didn’t work last night, despite swapping the batteries out from one of my favorite toys.
After following a strict two-week regime of intermittent fasting, along with a low carb diet, I was dying to find out if this peculiar experiment recommended by a colleague of mine would fix my blood pressure reading.
For the millionth time, I went over the reasons, or worse the diseases, that could be causing my abnormally high blood pressure.
I ate well. Went to the gym three times a week religiously.
Quit drinking. Didn’t smoke. My blood results were normal – I had it tested multiple times just to be sure.
Since the laboratory had my name on it, I could run personal tests for free as many times as I wanted.
Though, I had to be careful not to draw any unwanted attention.
I didn’t want word to get around that I was sick, or worse, dying.
Anyway, it just didn’t make sense.
Well, sleep was the only thing in my life that wasn’t in order. Stress might be playing a part too.
But that was just an occupational hazard.
I’m not sure I could call myself a doctor if I rested and slept well and didn’t suffer from any stress. Liam and Dad reminded me repeatedly that a doctor’s life wasn’t an easy one, physically or mentally, though it was definitely a satisfying one.
I had come to accept that – one day, if I’m lucky – I would sleep well, and enough. It’s just too bad that it would be on the day I retired or dropped dead.
At 10 a.m. in the morning, the Bennet Pharmacy shouldn’t be busy at all, and I knew that very well myself.
For the past year, I had made it my life’s mission to learn the ins and outs of my family’s business – the pharmacies, various medical centers, and hospitals – including small details like the opening and closing times, and the busy hours of those facilities.
Especially those that were close to my home.
Before 11am was usually a quiet time to go shopping on the weekends but quite the opposite during weekdays.
My other option would be to go to the hospital to use the equipment.
I had an old-fashioned blood pressure monitor that required no batteries there.
But I preferred my Saturday mornings to be strictly mine.
Going into the hospital meant work, regardless of why I was there, people would find work for me.
It might be a quick chat about a patient, or taking a glance at some charts, or double checking on some decorations, or even something like whether we should source a different toilet paper to save money.
And before I knew it, I would have spent hours going through things that weren’t in my job description.
My trouble was, I didn’t really know how to say no, especially when it came to small favors. And it seemed everyone had got the memo about this, because people kept asking for favors that I simply couldn’t refuse.
Sometimes I wondered if I should be a mean bitch.
I could set up some kind of consultation fee with HR, and every time someone came and asked me for shit, I’d just have HR deduct their pay.
After all, I was sure none of their job descriptions included making their superior work harder.
It should very much be the other way round.
Mean bitches are happy. And have better lives.
That was one thing I noticed from my mother. She cared about nothing but herself.
I marched quickly towards the electrical section and grabbed a Broun monitor that looked very similar to my old one.
I would have no problem using any brand, but I felt like I owed some loyalty to Broun.
Their CEO, Brian Broun, had been generously sponsoring many health campaigns and charity events organized by our hospitals.
Over the years, our charity managed to raise significant money to help the less fortunate in the world.
The very least I could do was support them by buying their products.
Technically, I wasn’t supposed to have any bias when it came to recommending any home medical equipment for my patients, but a lot of them seemed to prefer using the same one that their doctors were using.
There was talk of Brian’s ulterior motives for his recent support whenever I tried to raise money for charity.
That he was interested in purchasing a pharmaceutical company to raise his company’s portfolio.
And having a good relationship with hospitals would definitely help them distribute those drugs to the public. It was only a rumor, at the moment.
Whatever the real reasons were, anyone was welcome to help. And personally, I wouldn’t reject money for charity.
The real reason I stayed loyal to Broun though, was that it was the first blood pressure monitor I had ever known. My family had been using the same one for years and it rarely broke. And I’m extremely reluctant when it comes to trying out new things.
Reluctant to change or supremely royal? I guessed they were kind of the same.
I walked into the pharmacy, wondering if a new blood pressure monitor would be better. I’d just picked up the latest model and turned to go and pay for it when I found a body in my way. A very tall body that towered over me.
“Dr. Bennet, fancy seeing you here today.”
Damn it.
I really thought that no one would bother me today. I haven't had any proper me time for three years now. If my blood pressure reading was good, I was going to reward myself with a spa day. If not, that was more reason to unwind. So, either way, I was going to have a spa day today.
That’s why I hated it when I went anywhere owned by my family.
Everyone recognized me. Well, almost. Of course, not every single person who worked at Bennet Medical Group knew who I was.
That would be insane. Because there were just too many faces in the company.
I put on a well-practiced smile because it didn’t cost anything to be polite, and people could still tell that you were smiling when you wore a face covering.
“You–”, the upward curve on my mouth dropped as soon as I saw his face.
I felt like my eyes were about to pop out of their sockets.
He wasn’t wearing a face mask so there was no chance that he could be someone else. Mack What’s-his-face.
“It’s me. Mack Johnson.” Of course, I knew who he was. I dreaded running into someone like him. Or anyone connected to him.
I pulled off the little piece of cloth covering half my face. There was no point hiding who I was anymore. Mack must have done his research to find me here. He’d probably been watching me or following me before reaching out.
A few months ago, I let my brother Liam talk me into a major ad campaign.
My face was now on the pharmacy’s promotional posters.
These posters got plastered across the walls of every corner where they could possibly attract customers, and not only in New York.
The campaign was so successful that the medical group had decided to use it across the whole country, and in parts of Europe and Asia too.
Not only that, but the digital version was also haunting everyone that might need medical help on social media.
That meant pretty much every single person in the United States of America.
So now, everyone knows me as the face of Bennet Medical Group, and some people even called me the face of women’s health.
“Hi,” I said coldly and cursed my British blood for the need to be polite. I wanted no interaction with Mack. “Sorry, I’m in a rush. I’ll catch you another time.”
I marched straight to the self-pay machine, my eyes too afraid to look around.
“Come on. Surely you have time for a coffee?”
I was kicking myself inside for not going somewhere else for the monitor.
The thing was if I bought one from somewhere else, I’d feel like I was betraying my own business.
On the other hand, at Bennet pharmacies, the staff would automatically apply my VIP discount, and the business wouldn’t be making much profit anyway.
Then it was almost like I was ripping my own business off.
Welcome to the over-thinking mind of Dr. June Bennet.
“No.” Short sentences with a stern voice, that’s the key to delivering a concise, straight to the point message–a tip I learned from my best friend Chloe.
“For old time’s sake.”
Clearly short and concise didn’t work on Mack as he forcibly pulled me towards him for a sideways hug.
It had been more than 10 years since I last saw Mack. I may have even had different colored hair back then. And I didn’t answer to June back then, but my middle name. Despite my efforts to avoid certain people from my past life, one of them had found their way to me.
Mack smelled like he had been smoking weed and probably hadn’t had a wash for days. With all the energy I could muster, I struggled to get myself out from his grip and shoved him.
“Don’t!” Do that , I finished the sentence in my head. This time louder and in a higher pitch. Everyone–though not many–started to stare, and I didn’t care, I needed some witnesses if this guy was about to try anything.
My palms started to sweat. It wasn’t in my nature to cause a scene. I dreaded attention. I had always hated it.