Page 1 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

Chapter One

Jonathon

Johnny “Acme” Malone was one crazy cat. He went and put up his office building on reclaimed land in lower Manhattan and made it a skyscraper to boot. I stood at the foot of said skyscraper, the house that Acme built, and felt a mix of sensations.

First, and foremost, I felt a little bit of awe. The Acme building had been a staple of the skyline since my childhood, and I’d often wondered what it would be like to stand on the roof and look out at the city below.

Second, a sense of triumph washed over me. It had taken months of effort, but I’d finally done it. Now I was ready to strut inside like a conqueror.

But you know what I remember the most about that morning, the morning when it all started? Feeling kind of empty. I know, crazy, right? That a billionaire investor with six-pack abs and a garage full of overpriced Italian sports cars would feel empty? But that feeling was there, even if it was buried so deep I didn’t notice it on a conscious level.

A police car shot past, its sirens wailing, snapping me out of my reverie. I strode through the sliding glass doors of the Acme Building and entered the finely appointed lobby. Finely appointed except for one thing; the garish Acme Ace, a talking slice of bread that was the Acme brand mascot. It was just an eyesore, in every sense of the word.

Acme’s headquarters buzzed like a kicked beehive. People were rushing to and fro, some of them carrying boxes of paper files. I could understand their consternation, under the circumstances.

I approached the front desk receptionist and put on my best smile. She was a sweet-hipped little curly-haired brunette, and her eyes let me know she appreciated the attention and was returning it tenfold.

“Good morning, and welcome to Acme,” she said, her ruby-painted lips parting in a sweet smile. “What may I do to assist you?”

“You can keep me from getting a broken heart, and tell me that you’re single,” I said with a smile.

She laughed, her lovely face crinkling up. “I’m sort of seeing someone…”

“Seeing him? As in he’s your boyfriend…” I checked her name tag “… Tisha?”

“I—sure?”

“You don’t sound too sure about that, and even if you were, well… isn’t boyfriend, by its very nature, a temporary vocation?”

Sweat broke out on her brow as she tried to pretend she wasn’t flattered by my continued salvo. “I suppose that it is.”

I decided to get down to business, because sometimes I can get carried away when a pretty woman is involved. “Anyway, Tisha, I’m sorry to take up so much of your time—”

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” she said quickly, her brown eyes lighting up.

“—but I’m afraid I’m late to a meeting with the board of directors.”

Tisha blinked. “Um, I’m sorry, sir, but I personally know all of the board members on sight, and you’re not one of them.”

“Ah, but I will be momentarily.” I dug my phone out of my pocket and swiped the screen to life. I turned the screen so she could see what was displayed upon it. “You see, I’ve just bought this company, and there will be changes.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re Tiger Thomas?”

I chuckled. “I prefer Jonathon, but you, Tisha…”

I gently lifted her chin to look me in the eyes. “… you can call me Tiger if you want to. I promise not to bite… too hard.”

“Sh-should I call the board and tell them that you’re coming?” She stammered, trying to maintain a veneer of self-control. I decided she was a true professional and would not be losing her job. You’ll notice her rejection or acceptance of my numerous offers had nothing to do with her employment status. The Tiger doesn’t roll like that. It’s strictly a meritocracy no matter who’s sleeping with—or not sleeping with—whom.

“No, I’d prefer to surprise them.” I gestured toward the elevator. “This way, top floor, I presume?”

Tisha nodded and watched me all the way to the elevator. I rode up to the top floor, taking in the engraved brass relief of ivy leaves weaving its way around the car’s interior. Very classy. I liked it.

I strode into the board meeting, causing every head to turn my way. They recognized me on sight, and thus nobody objected when I walked over and sat down at the head of the table.

“Good morning,” I said with a grin. “My name is Jonathon Thomas, and I’m the new majority owner of Acme Bread.”

After a moment, the flood began. Sycophants tripping over themselves trying to get on my good side. I listened to them patiently, one by one, as they tried to justify their existence.

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