This is the nineteenth part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, and Part XVIII before continuing.
“I’m sorry about them,” Owen said as soon as we were back in my car.
“Yeah, that was … weird.”
“I had no idea they were going to come at you like that. Are you OK?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” The truth was I was more than fine. I was surprised by the way dinner had gone, sure, but I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, they had given me a huge boon, whether they realized it or not.
To start with, I didn’t have to worry about them not liking me. With an introduction like that, I could launch a preemptive strike against them, casting myself as the victim to their, if not cruelty exactly, at least invasive questions.
The second gift they had given me was invaluable insight into Owen. I had always known he liked a damsel in distress, and the first question his dad asked of me had proved it. This could be the answer to the question Mom and I had been asking ourselves earlier: how to keep Owen interested in such a boring persona? If Owen wanted to save a damsel in distress, it wasn’t enough for me to be a damsel. I needed to be in distress. I’d have to think up something plausible. I decided to do some research.
“What did your dad mean when he said all your girlfriends are damaged in some way?”
Owen sighed. “I have no idea. I’m so sorry about all that.”
“Well, tell me about your ex-girlfriends. What are they like?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Are we seriously having this conversation?”
“Yeah. I want to know.”
I looked at him as I waited for him to answer, but he just kept giving me that skeptical look without saying anything. It finally hit me that, from most girls, this would be a trap. How could I convince him that I really wanted to know and I wouldn’t get upset?
“I could tell you about my ex-boyfriends.”
“I don’t care about your ex-boyfriends.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You don’t even want to know how many there were?”
“Nope.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to this. I had never met a guy who wasn’t at least a little bit curious about the guys I had dated before him. Owen wasn’t bluffing either. He was the most honest person I had ever met. He was one hundred percent serious when he said he didn’t care.
“Well, I still want to know about your ex-girlfriends.”
He snorted as he put the car in gear and backed out of the driveway. “Not a chance.”
OK, so reconnaissance would have to wait until later. But at least I had more information than I had had before dinner. All I needed now was to come up with a story that would cast me as the damsel in distress he so desperately wanted to save.
To be continued…