"What about the interest?"
"Huh?" Lucy's lips dropped slightly and she was stunned for a good hot second before processing the words that graced her ears.
"You're proposing for a debtor-creditor relationship, am I correct? I let you borrow my money with the promise that you'll pay it back. If you want this to be strictly business, there should be an interest." The man continued with a steady, almost cold voice.
His insides were boiling but as soon as the words left his mouth he felt instant regret seeing the young lady shrink in front of him. His chest tightened.
Blood left Lucy's face as she listened to the logic laid by the man in front of her. She felt ashamed. Why did she think this was a good idea? She wanted a contract so they could stand on equal grounds but a debtor is all she is. A helpless vagrant at the mercy of money.
Owen didn't mean to ridicule the woman. What did he feel? Is it offense? Did he just get offended? The mighty wall Owen? Even blatant taunts inside the octagon don't work on him. He is used to keeping his cool at bay regardless of situations. It's the perfect condition to throw off your enemy's aggressive attacks. That's one of the reasons he built a wall. It became easier to manage his reputation within the high-tension MMA world when he started acting like this.
He felt a pulse at the side of his temple and did a conscious exhale to release the tension. He was about to reach out his hand and land it on Lucy's shoulder when the woman bowed and he missed his chance for physical contact.
"I'm sorry." Her words pierced him. He's the one who should be apologizing. Her words are clear but he felt the restraint of not wanting to cry.
He felt his eyes droop a little. His brain is doing somersaults figuring out how to salvage the situation. He just really wanted to help for Grandma's sake. Why does this have to be so damn complicated?
Owen decides to save face by keeping up the act but his intention stays the same. He just really wanted to help.
He has to make sure his intention comes through, but how?
Owen taps his fingers on the table in time with the ticking of his watch. The silence is suffocating to the stud but even more to the damsel in front of him. "What are you bowing for?" He starts with a cold question but surprisingly delivered with a softer tone.
The young woman lifted her face tentatively but refused to look in his direction.
Lucy still feels like the walls are closing in on her as she tries to find where to place her gaze. An invisible hand is pushing her head down. The table looked like a desert, dry of solace and void of life but that's the only safe place she can look at without pushing her luck.
"You misunderstood again." Owen spoke, back into his default mood. He looked intently for a reaction. A clue, maybe, if he's saying the right things. Ready to switch strategies if necessary.
"I am simply stating the nature of the contract. I am pleased..." he trailed off a bit before picking up the statement where it was let off. Pleased is not a word that often goes out of his mouth. "I am pleased to see your determination to work for what you receive."
Lucy was surprised again by what she heard. Am I being complemented right now? Her head slightly turning to the side, her eyebrows furrowing intensely.
Confusion can't start to define her feelings right now. Her emotions felt like a roller coaster plunging seconds ago and now whiplashing her up top. She's afraid there will be another dive but can't help to feel relieved at the soothing words.
Owen can imagine the farce on her face. Even when her head is bent forward, the angle gives him enough view to see strain and movements.
He saw her head slowly turn up and got ready to make a reassuring face.
She looked up to meet the eyes of her benefactor and was surprised by the instant nod and quick blink as if affirming the words he had just said.
Only then she sighed in relief inwardly, but still cautious.
While Lucy had reservations, she was obviously relieved.
Owen, on the other hand, was struggling to hold the pleasure in his chest at bay. He felt redemption and wanted to give himself a back pat with the great choice of words. What a save, Owen. Well done, Owen.
He was satisfied with the young woman's reaction but tried to brush it off, at least in appearance. His confidence is soaring as he feels comfortable in his wall again.
"Send me an email on the things you want to do and I'll have someone to look into it. I will apply minimal interest because you're my exclusive therapist. If all is well and one, I'll take my leave." Owen had both hands on the table and motioned to get up but Lucy stopped him by putting one of her hands on top of his.
It was not an intrusive touch. Just a brush that's enough to announce its presence but doesn't have to power to stop a hand from leaving its proximity if it really wanted to.
Owen stopped moving, feeling the small warmth on top of his hand. Lucy's fingertips are the only thing connected to his skin but he can feel the mellowness crawling underneath his epidermis.
"Thank you." The woman had a mix of determination and gratitude in her eyes. With the sudden jolt to reach for Owen about to leave, her hair hustled forward, slightly covering a quarter of her face, draping dangerously close to her left eye.
Owen noticed and felt an urge to tuck it away. It was a fleeting moment. The young man caught himself quickly before getting too absorbed in the trespassing thought.