They were taking forever. Sure, girls will be girls and coffee is life and all that, but still. Breakfast had been ready ten minutes ago.

Finally, at the sound of the door opening, I looked up from the stove.

“What took you so long?”

Cin looked frozen between shock and delight. “You guys. I practically had a heart attack. Not answering your cells, leaving the front door unlocked.”

“Whoops, that would be me,” I said. “Had to run to the grocery store across the street for some eggs.”

“Eggs?” Penelope said.

And that was when their gazes landed on the spread Owen and I had prepared. Scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, hash browns, and some raisin toast.

Finally, that overdue smile came onto Cin’s face. “I..” she hoisted up a mini-box of Timbits. “This is my surprise, I guess.”

“You girls were gone pretty long,” I commented, watching for their reactions.

Although Penelope had been our wing woman the last time the four of us hung out, something told me that their ‘girl talk’ this time hadn’t been of the ‘you go girl!!’ variety.

“We’re pretty hungry,” Cin said, picking up the platters Owen and I had set on the kitchen counter.

“Here, I can help,” I offered, reaching for one myself.

“It’s fine,” Penelope said primly, picking it up.

She and Cin exchanged a look, saying nothing. Yep, something was up.

Although that didn’t stop me from feasting with vigor. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, more eggs, way more bacon, I plopped everything into a mishmash that I scooped into my mouth, heaping spoonfuls at a time.

“What are your plans today?” I asked Cin.

“Probably just errand-running,” she said, avoiding my gaze.

After some small talk, I excused myself to go to the restroom.

Inside, was all the normal ‘girl stuff’ you’d expect – the pretty-smelling pinky glistening hand soap, the black glossy three-level suitcase thing that I was fairly certain was for makeup. Although I’d been in this bathroom before, last night, in fact, right now I was seeing it with new eyes. The eyes of someone who might now return.

As I took a piss, I felt sentimental toward her shell-scalloped soap dish, for Christ’s sake. Yeah, I was in deep, that was for sure.

My phone rang.

“Hello?”

“This is Rodney,” a voice growled.

I waited for the explanation that never came. “Think you’ve got the wrong number, buddy.”

“I’m Pauly’s manager,” he said.

As if that explained better why my next opponent’s manager was calling me up at 11:27 am on a Saturday morning. Although his name did ring a bell for some reason.

“What, hoping for some tips?” I asked him.

“No. You’re going to have to throw the fight next week.”

I laughed. “Oh, ok then. Why didn’t you just say so?”

“I’m not joking. Your brother owes me money. A lot of money. He’s been dodging my calls. Avoiding me.” He exhaled loudly into the receiver, sending crackling in my ear. “Either you pay up or I send one of my guys to make him pay up. Teach your brother some manners.”

“Bullshit,” I said. “Owen’s better with money than our grandma. You’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Didn’t you ever wonder how he had all that cash at the start to finance your training, your mitts, all that shit?”

I paused. Ronald, or whatever his name was, had a point. At the time, Owen had just laughed my incredulous ‘how’ question off, citing some long-ago far-away savings fund. But now…

“He borrowed money from me,” R-something continued. “Money he never repaid.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Owen’s an honest guy, and we aren’t doing bad now either. I’m winning.”

“All that needs to make sense is you losing next week. Get it?”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m just not doing it. You can take your offer and shove it up your ass.”

A too-long pause. Then, a raspy sort of ‘hm’.

“Was thinking you might say that. I’ll give you the next hour to change your mind.”

“You can take your hour and” – click.

I turned on the faucet and stared at the water drilling into the sink bowl. Raol or whatever his name was, was full of shit. And as soon as I got back to the table with Cin and the others, I’d ask Owen straight up.

My hand twisting the cool silver of the door knob, I paused. One thing Owen was other than good with money was honest to a fault. If he really was in some deep shit with this guy and had to pay up, he’d rather sell a kidney than have me throw a fight.

Besides, there was no point in embarrassing him in front of Cin on the off chance that there was some shady BS going down.

Back at the table, a relative silence had descended. I sat down for a few minutes, feebly trying and failing to make idle conversation, before the man’s words echoed in my head: I’ll give you the next hour to change your mind. Did that mean what I think it meant?

Getting up, I walked around, paused, placed my hands on the chair back and made the decision. “I gotta go.”

I gave Cin a sideways hug, Penelope a brisk wave and Owen a nod.

“Gym?” he asked with a wink.

“You know it.” I winked back. “Gotta win so my manager doesn’t look bad.”

I was on my way to the door when Owen’s call reached me, “Impossible – your manager can’t look bad!”

As I made my way to the elevator, all I could do was grimly think, I really hope so.

--

When I reached our cars, I knew. Owen was in some deep, deep shit.

His Mazda’s tires were slashed.

I called him up. “Make any enemies lately?”

“No, why?”

“Your tires are slashed.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“Yeah, probably happened last night,” I said. Or, say, in the past hour, I added privately to myself.

“So?” I said.

“None, except for this guy who kinda looks and sounds like me.”

“I know the guy,” I said, going along with the joke, although inside I was reeling. “He’s an asshole.”

“Completely.”

I smiled grimly. “You want me to call the tow truck and wait it out?”

“Nah, I can do it myself. You get your fat ass to the gym.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

“Good luck, kid.”

I hung up, getting into my car. I drove until I got to the first parking lot I saw. I pulled into a spot and picked up my phone, dialing back the last number that had called me. “Hey. Just to clarify, deal is I throw the fight and in exchange you’ll leave Owen alone?”

“You got it.”

“Ok,” I said. “I’m in. I’ll throw the fight.”