“Owen…” Nanette’s brows knitted together as she tried to explain. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Your meaning is pretty obvious,” Owen replied, his face unreadable. “I have a lot of work to take care of. You should go home.”
Nanette hesitated, glancing back at him. She looked like there was more she wanted to say, but in the end, she just grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
She suddenly stopped and turned halfway.
“If I find out you…” She paused, as if weighing her words, then sighed. “You’d better not have done something you can’t undo.”
Owen watched her disappear down the hallway, his eyes clouded with suspicion. She was keeping something from him. He could sense it, but honestly, he didn’t really care anymore.
He glanced back at the framed photo of Petty sitting on his desk. Picking it up, he traced her face gently with his thumb.
“Franco’s out of the way now. You should finally be able to see me, Petty.” His voice was almost a whisper.
Still holding the picture, he picked up his phone and tried calling her.
“…The person you’re calling is on another line…”
He tried again. And again. After several failed attempts, the truth hit him—Petty had blocked his number.
Meanwhile, Petty was at the hospital with Hans, waiting outside while he got his bandages changed. She was scrolling absently through her phone when a call from an unknown number flashed on the screen.
She let it ring for a moment, debating whether to answer. Then she picked up. “Hello?”
“Petty, it’s me.” Owen’s voice was instantly recognizable.
She frowned. “Why are you calling?”
“How about having dinner with me tonight?”
“I’m not free,” Petty shot back without hesitation.
Owen kept his tone easy. “I know I was out of line last time. I shouldn’t have said those things. I owe you an apology. And come on, don’t tell me you’re too busy. I already know you left the TV station.”

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