August 23rd, 2015 — FITZPATRICK’S DELI
w/@owensfitzpatrick
The plan was simple. The man? Even more so. At least to Harriet who hadn’t had a single thought of Owen cross her mind for the past three years— not since Kate passed away and not a reason remained to even mention his name. For years he had been the guy who had screwed over Holden, or maybe it was the other way around, Harriet could never get the story straight even if she tried to pursue a full-on investigation. She did, however, know Holden’s side of the story and it had never put Owen in a good light. So of course by association, she detested him
Except for the part where she didn’t actually know much of him besides the few encounters they had shared in university and the fact that he could, at the least, throw a good punch. Their anonymity had only recently changed when a storm had forced Harriet to run into the nearest place in fear that her paperwork would get drenched, and as luck had it she stepped right into his lair: Fitzpatrick’s Deli. From then on it only took one suggestive comment to string them along; one serendipitous visit turning into a series of deliberate encounters in the deli, texts and risqué pick up lines included.
If Owen had been anyone else, maybe Harriet could have genuinely liked them. And maybe a small part of her did, but that didn’t matter because at some point between the risqué pick up lines and the texts Harriet had concocted her plan in honor of the Fox family (aka she was bored). All she had to do was follow through with it. “Shit.” Harriet simulated being disappointed when she entered his shop, making way for one of the last customers to walk past her and out. “Don’t tell me you’re closing, Fitz.”