Owen Hunt rubbed his eyes, as he woke up. Next to him was this redhead he had picked up last night at that party. What the heck was her name? All he could remember was that she was a model and she was in Vogue last month. Ah, Birgitte was her name, he finally remembered. He needed to get her out of there before he headed to his first round tennis match at the US Open. Maybe he could get Jesper, his personal assistant, to get her some tickets for herself and a couple of her friends to one of his matches.
There was a knock on his door. He knew it could only be Jesper. Owen found his boxer briefs and a pair of track pants and pulled those on, before he answered the door.
"Good morning, sir," Jesper said, handing him a newspaper, as he stepped inside the hotel room. He glanced over at the bed and saw the redheaded woman, still asleep in the bed. "Sir, do you need me to take care of that?"
"Yes, if you can, Jesper," Owen said. "I am going to take a shower, grab some breakfast downstairs and head down to the stadium." He ran into the bathroom and by the time, he got out, he was alone. Jesper had indeed taken care of the problem. Knowing Jesper, Owen knew that he had escorted the young lady downstairs and placed her in a cab, paying the driver her fare and a generous tip. He was going to miss Jesper, since his personal assistant was going to quit his employ at the end of the US Open. Jesper was getting married to his girlfriend, Pia, back in Sweden and he said he needed to stay in one place for his future bride. He could not be traipsing all over the world, working for a professional tennis player, while he had a wife at home. Jesper took care of almost everything for Owen. He got him tickets for games, made sure his suits were cleaned and ready for any formal function, handled all of his airline bookings, and always took care of his personal delicate matters, as Jesper did, that very morning.
Owen knew he had a terrible reputation with the ladies. His prowess in the bedroom was as well known as his skills on the tennis court. He was noted for dating mainly actresses and models and appeared in People magazine, as much as he appeared in Tennis World. He was currently the number two professional tennis player in the world amongst the men. He had been number one until that young upstart from Spain, Pablo Quinteras, began winning a bunch of tournaments and skyrocketed to the top of the tennis rankings. Owen was 26, while Pablo was 22. Pablo had won the Australian Open and the French Open, while Owen had managed to take the Wimbledon title. Hopefully, if he could win the US Open, he could take back his number one tennis ranking. He knew sleeping with a model was not the way to start his quest for the US Open title but the girl kept throwing herself at him at the party. He changed into his track suit from his sponsor. They really liked when he wore their gear in public. He would change into his tennis whites at the stadium before the match. He picked up the bag that Jesper had packed with his clothes, towels and water bottles. He knew that Jesper would already have his tennis racquets and balls already packed in another bag and placed in their car. He headed down to the dining room for some breakfast. He was going to have a light breakfast. He could not be sluggish out on the court, especially since he had an early match, that day. He had already started his breakfast, when Jesper joined him at the table.
"Did you take care of her?" Owen asked. Jesper nodded. "Thank you, Jesper. You are a good man. I am going to miss you, when you leave me."
"Thank you, sir," Jesper said. "Have you thought about getting a new personal assistant? I am leaving at the end of the tournament."
Owen groaned. "Why must you remind that you are leaving me that soon?"
"Well, I don't want to see you without an assistant, when I leave to go back to Sweden," Jesper said. "It has to be done, sir."
"Yes, I know," Owen said. "Have you had breakfast as yet? They have quite a spread at the buffet table."
"Yes, I have," Jesper said. "Everything is already in the car. Just waiting for you to finish your breakfast." Owen finished the last of his buttered toast and drained his tea. "Yes, I am ready." Jesper picked up Owen's bag and they headed to the car in the basement parking.
Owen got into the back seat, while Jesper got into the driver's seat. Soon, they were on their way to the stadium for warm-ups and his first-round match.
"Come on, Cristina, we are going to be late," 10-year-old Nicholas said, tugging at his cousin's hand, as they headed to Court 2 for the first round tennis match of the US Open. Cristina was taking her cousins Nicholas and Nathaniel, 12, to the match. They were going to see the boys' favorite tennis player, Owen Hunt, the number two player in the world.
Cristina did not know much about Owen Hunt other than his name and the fact that he dated a lot of celebrity women and that he was supposedly really good at tennis. Tennis was not her sport. She couldn't care less about it. Now, she knew everything about figure skating because she was a pretty good figure skater and had competed when she was younger. She was 21 years old and had just graduated from Dartmouth College. Her parents had sent her from New Hampshire to New York to her Aunt Dorothy's place, so she could find a job in Manhattan. Since she hadn't found a job as yet, her uncle Murray was paying her to take the boys to the US Open. He had promised the boys that they would get to see every single match that Owen Hunt was playing in, right up to the finals, if he made it that far. They would miss a couple days of school, but it was negotiated that as long as the boys kept up with their homework assignments, they would be able to go to the tennis matches. She had brought herself a good book. She hoped that this game would be over in straight sets, so she could go home and get her babysitting payment. They went to their seats and she had to admit that Uncle Murray had got them some really good seats. It was close to the action and her little cousins were excited.
"Ooh, look at these seats," Nate said. "We're going to see every stroke they make." Since it was an early round match, it was not packed in the stands. Cristina put on her dark glasses and pulled out her book. The players were announced and both came out to warm up on the courts. She knew that Hunt was the blonde guy and his opponent was some Frenchman, Marcel LaCroix. They started passing shots to each other and when he went for one of his shots, Owen noticed her out of the corner of his eye. She had the darkest, glossiest head of curls he had ever seen. She had on dark sunglasses on her delicate face and instead of looking at the players, she was reading a book. Next to her were two animated young boys, who were taking in every stroke, even though the match had not yet started. When the boys noticed that Hunt was looking in their direction, they got very excited. "Cristina, he is looking our way. Shall we wave?" Nick asked.
"I guess," she said, giving the player a quick glance. The two boys waved at Owen, and he waved back. They were clearly fans. Now, only if the girl with them, would wave back. She looked young, in her early 20's. She could be their sister or their babysitter, he wondered. His thoughts were interrupted as the referee announced the start of the match. It was an easy win for Owen as he won the match in straight sets. During the match, he would glance over at the dark-haired girl and she was still reading her book. He felt personally affronted. Here he was, doing some of his best work in wrapping up this match in straight sets, and she did not look up, not once. What was so interesting in her book? When he won, the two little boys jumped up and clapped, wildly. He acknowledged their applause by giving them a special wave. Cristina said, "Let's go, guys." She wanted to get the two boys out of there before people started exiting. Owen went to his chair to pack up his racquets and towels. By the time he looked back up, the girl and her two young charges were gone. "Damn," he said. He hoped that they would come to a second match.
At his second round match against German player Gunther Mueller, he looked around for the dark-haired girl and the two young boys, he was gratified when he saw them, there again. They were there for his third round, fourth round, quarter finals and his semi-finals matches. Yet, for every match, while he was playing some of his best tennis, the girl would just take out a book and read. That was so aggravating, he thought. He was used to women fawning over him and trying to get his attention.
He decided to make a move after winning his semi-final match. As usual, Cristina was ready to get out of there. Owen went across with three autographed tennis balls in hand.
"Hey," he said, looking up at them. "I have seen you at all of my matches." Nate and Nick were so excited that Owen Hunt was actually speaking to them. Nate gulped before he spoke. "Yes, me and my little brother are your biggest fans."
"That's awesome," Owen said. "What are your names?" Nate answered, "I am Nate Cohen and this is my brother, Nick. This is Cristina Yang. She is our cousin." So that was her name, Owen thought. Cristina was a lovely name.
"Would you like to get some autographed balls?" Owen asked.
"Would we? Yes, yes, yes!" Nick screamed. Owen threw up the balls for them. He looked at Cristina. "There is one here for you, too."
"Okay," she said. "Thank you." He threw the ball for her and she neatly caught it. "Good catch, Cristina. So are you coming to the finals?"
"Yes," she said. "Then my babysitting duty is done." Owen smiled. "Then, looking forward to seeing you at the finals."
"Goodbye," the boys said. "See you soon." They waved at him, as they left.
So they are going to be at the finals. Great, he thought. He could get Jesper to invite them out, after the finals and the press conferences, under the guise of meeting the fans.
He made the suggestion to Jesper, who shook his head. He knew exactly why his boss wanted to socialize with these particular fans, since he talked more about the girl than the two young boys. "Okay, sir," Jesper said. He shook his head, again. Owen Hunt dated celebrities and models. What did he want with this young woman, who seemed to be just a normal girl? Jesper hoped his boss knew what he was doing, especially since he should be concentrating on his finals match against Pablo Quinteras.
It was the day of the finals. Owen looked around and saw the girl and his two biggest fans there, as usual. He pointed them out to Jesper, who knew exactly what to do. Jesper found his way into the stands and worked his way to Cristina and her cousins.
"Good day," he said. "My name is Jesper Anderberg and I am Mr. Hunt's personal assistant. He spoke to you all at the semi-finals. He wondered if you and your cousins would like to meet with him after the match. He recognizes that the boys are really big fans and would like to chat with them. Would that be okay with you?"
"Please, please, please, Cristina," the two boys pleaded. "We will clean your room for you."
"Okay," Cristina said. "Fine." Jesper said, "I will fetch you after the match. We will probably just get some refreshments." The promise of food perked Cristina up.
As Jesper left, the boys told her that she couldn't be reading a book, today because it was the finals of the US Open. "Since Mr. Hunt invited us, you should be watching the match. It will be disrespectful for you to be reading, when he is out there, playing his heart out," Nate said. "What if he looks up and sees you reading?" Cristina sighed and put away her book. "Alright, Nate, you have a point," she said. "I will watch the match."
The match turned out to be a five-set thriller with two tie-breakers. Cristina found herself rooting for Owen, even though she hadn't cared about who won before. It was only because he was being so nice to them that she was pulling for him. In the end, Hunt prevailed. He was the US Open champion. As he raised his trophy in the air, he did look over at them and see that she was clapping, just as wildly, as her two cousins. Jesper had come to them and was escorting them out of the stadium. Owen still had his press conference, so Jesper was taking them to the restaurant at the hotel and was entertaining them. An hour later, after the press conference, Owen finally made it back to his hotel. He went directly to the restaurant, where it seemed they were having a really good time with Jesper, who had them rolling with laughter.
"Hey," Owen said. "Glad you guys could make it."
"Congratulations, Mr. Hunt," the boys said. "Yes, congratulations. It was a very exciting match," Cristina said.
"I am glad you enjoyed it," he said. "So I see you guys have already ordered your food. That's good." He ordered a club sandwich for himself and a cappuccino.
"So how long have you been fans?" Owen asked. "Like forever," Nick answered. "Since I was eight." Owen recognized that two years was a long time for a 10-year-old boy. "Four years," Nate answered.
"What about you, Cristina?" he asked. "Honestly," she answered. "I have never been into tennis before but today may have changed me. It was an awesome sight, today."
"I am glad that I have converted you into a tennis fan," he said. "So what do you do, Cristina?"
"Nothing for the moment. I just graduated from Dartmouth and I came to New York to look for a job," Cristina said. "So, right now I am staying with my aunt and uncle, who are the boys' parents."
"So you are looking for a job?" Owen said. "I may have the thing for you."
A/N Please leave your comments. This is a new story, so I am gauging feedback on whether I should continue this.