Owen didn’thaveto work.
There was no need for me to know anything about his bank account, but the reveal opened up new insights about him: Why he was guarded and kept people at an arm’s length. Why he didn’t like talking about his background. And why he opted to be über-schlub at CPA. He was surrounded by finance bros who probably recognized him from the press around Dimoveo, so the disguise was a way to keep from getting cornered to talk about investment opportunities.
The news actually made me uncomfortable. I hadn’t gone out looking for information about Owen—I’d never so much as googled him—and now I knew way more than I should. After all, he’d never mentioned it to me, for a good reason.
My heart hurt in new and surprising ways.
A phone went off.
“That’s wifey.” Bruce grinned as he pulled his phone out of his bag. “Making sure I didn’t have a heart attack.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky next time.” Danny laughed and smacked him on the back.
We all gathered our things and got ready to leave, but I hung back, waiting for Howard.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” I asked him as he headed out.
“Of course.” He lifted his hat and swept his hair across his head, then placed it back on, jauntily tipped and precariously high. “How can I be of service?”
My stomach dipped, which was a stupid reaction given that what I was about to do wasn’t a big deal.
“So I’m signed up for the New York Parks Pickleball Summer Tournament—”
“Good for you.” He nodded approvingly. “You’re going to do great!”
“Thank you.” I pushed on. “Right now I’m signed up as ‘needs a partner,’ which is fine, but I thought that it might be fun if you—I mean the timing’s not great because it’s coming up on the twenty-fifth—but if you have the time, maybe you’d want to sign up as my partner? I know it’s weird for me to ask, but I thought—”
“You want to play withme?” Howard’s eyes lit up as he broke into a wide smile. “Of all of the crackerjack players you know, you want this old man by your side?”
He pointed at himself, delighted and a little dubious.
“I do.” I smiled back at him. “I think we make a great team. It’s my first competition, so going into it with someone I know would take away some of the stress.”
“And we’re the same level, correct? Three-plus-ish?”
“I feel like a fraud, but yes, that’s what Owen says I am.”
“Well, okay then! I’m retired so I can do what I want when I want. And I want to kick some butt with you.”
I beamed at him. “Fantastic, thank you! I’m not sure about switching up my reservation to ‘has a partner,’ though.”
“I’ll take care of it. I know people,” he said with a wink. “One of my former students is in the public programs department.”
We walked out of the court together, making plans to play a couple times before the tournament. Even though so much in my life was going wrong at the moment, it finally felt like I had a little spot of sunshine in the form of an octogenarian pickleball ace.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I woke up Tuesday morning half tempted to just show up at CPA for my lesson despite the fact that I still hadn’t heard from Owen. Then I considered how sad and desperate I’d look standing outside the locked door, begging to be let in.
I curled up in bed and remained miserable.
My texts and calls to Owen did nothing. I was starting to feel like a stalker, relentless and blind to the fact that the object of my affection wanted nothing to do with me.
But deep down, I knew that he did. I just needed to prove it to him.
Which was exactly what every stalker thought.
I finally dragged myself out of bed, ignoring my scratchy throat, which I hoped was nothing more than being overtired. I needed to muster up some enthusiasm, because I was tagging along with Meredith later in the day to check out the space she was considering for her studio. She’d been so busy and excited that I hadn’t gotten into the Owen details.
