“Are you fucking kidding me?” she hissed. “That’s it? That’s the info you give?”
Tegan paced the bedroom, trying to push down the feeling of panic in her chest.It’s OK,she told herself.Calm down. You don’t know anything bad has happened. It’s a smash.
She realised she had no way of getting in contact with him. Nor he with her. They didn’t have each other’s numbers. They had swapped bodily fluids but not numbers. But why would he, even if he could?Get a grip! He was a one-night stand that’s turned into a fling. That’s all you are to him. That’s ALL he is to you. DO NOT do this to yourself. Do NOT fall for this guy. Do not cry.
A phone inside the apartment rang, snapping her out of her inner war, but it wasn’t her place to answer his phone. It rang out and then immediately rang again. What if it was Owen’s dad? Trying to reach him? What if he didn’t know? Either way, he would surely have Owen’s number and could reach him.
She picked up the handset. “Hello?”
A rather cheery and relieved voice replied, “Oh, thank God. You’re still there. I was hoping you would be...”
It was Owen. She blurted out in relief, “What happened? Are you OK? Did you need anything? Is that why you called?”
“Whoa... whoa...” he said just as cheerfully. “Everything is OK. I’m fine. No one got hurt. I went too quickly through a yellow light and clipped another car. It’s what I get for rushing.”
“Are you... what? That’s it? You had a prang? The news said it was a two car smash!”
“They always beat up the story. The only issue was I got out of the car. At first, to see if the other guy was OK. He was and wanted to forget about insurance and all that if I gave him a couple hundred bucks to fix the dent and took a picture with his girlfriend . So, we pulled over, out of traffic. One car saw it was me so stopped. Another car did the same. And you know how that song and dance goes.”
Tegan started to relax as his easy-going tone got to her. “So, did you need something from here?”
“No. I just wanted you to know I was OK.”
“You did? Really?”
“Well, I figured you might hear or see something, and you don’t have my number. I didn’t want you to worry... ah, shit I’ve got another call coming. Can you give me your number, please?”
Tegan hid the sniffle well as she rattled off and then repeated her number for him. He thanked her and hung up. Only when the line went dead, did she feel she could wipe away the small beginnings of tears. As if because she wasn’t talking to him, it somehow made it less stupid, showing such relief that he was fine. That she had worried for nothing. Hell, that she had worried at all was confusing enough.
Her phone tinged a message, and she knew it was probably him.
Owen: I did forget to ask one thing you could do for me if possible.
Me: What’s that?
Owen: Stay.
* * *
Owen finished texting and then answered his phone, “Yello’?”
“What happened?” Robert snapped.
Owen rattled off an apology over being late but was stopped before he really got started. “Fuck that. With the car, I meant.”
“Oh yeah. I was rushing to get there. All good. No bad damage. No injuries. Just lots of selfies. Hence, the media crap. Traffic is moving now. I’m getting back in.”
“OK, as long as you’re on your way... this guy seems to think the reason you were late is because of this crash. And I’ve let him think it. We still have a chance to get him on board. It’s worth almost two million.”
Owen placed his forearm on the bonnet and waved to a car of yelling fans that drove past. “What have I gotta do?”
“We’ll put his logo on your shorts; that’s basic. But things like appearances at his dealerships and commercials. And of course, no scandals.”
Owen laughed. “I’ll keep my scandals to a minimum then. I’ll time them right, just for him.”
“O, I’m serious. You may think I’m a senile old fool, but we are living off the money made from fights. All our expenses come off that. Training, living, and supplies too. We need another source of income just in case these guys at the top of the business figure out that’s how to get you. I’ve kept you away from sponsors as most of them are leeches wanting to cash in or sharks that treat fighters like puppets to dance on strings. But the time has come. It’s a simple deal based on your popularity. And you don’t have to do anything demeaning or that goes against your values. Number one contender match is in less than four months. We need this. So, get over here and meet the man, so we can get the ball rolling.”
Owen sighed. His dad made too much sense to ignore. “On my way.”