Page 11 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

“Oh, it’s from a movie. Tombstone.”

“I don’t get to watch as many movies as I should because I’m always working, but I’ll have to check it out.”

“It’s typical cowboy stuff, but I saw it a lot growing up because my Aunt Petunia thinks Val Kilmer is sexy.”

He laughed, an easy, light sound. I got the feeling he wasn’t being polite, he really enjoyed my company. His smile only made him more gorgeous.

“Well, I’m not going to argue with your Aunt Petunia.” His eyes flicked up and down my body, lingering just for a moment on my bust before returning to my face. I felt my heart flutter under that smoldering gaze. “Now me, I have different ideas about what I find sexy…”

He took Flash’s leash in hand and headed for the doggy daycare gate. “I’ll see you soon, Amy.”

“Yeah,” I said, my knees weak and watery. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. I should point out I’m not normally a total wanton hussy. I’d never met a man at that point in my life who had the kind of effect on me Jonathon had.

As I approached the clubhouse, I reminded myself that I was on a mission.

Come on, Amy. Get it together. You’re not here to flirt. You’re here to secure that corner lot by any means necessary. There’s a reason you shaved your legs and put on this ridiculous skirt.

I entered the air-conditioned cool of the clubhouse and spied the signup station for the tournament. The line looked fairly long, so I wasn’t in a huge hurry to join the end of it. I meandered through the clubhouse, taking a look at how the other half lived.

I spotted the table setup with Breadcetera’s catered goods. I frowned, because no one was coming anywhere near it. Chui just stood there in his black tuxedo with the red vest, looking dejected.

“What’s wrong, Chui?” I gestured at the rare delights we had set up on the table. “This stuff looks great. Why isn’t anyone coming over here and trying it?”

Chui pursed his lips. “If I had to guess, I’d say it was that other catering company.”

“What?” I turned about, following his pointing finger to behold no less than seven tables lined up in a row. I gasped as I saw lobster, oysters, foie gras, caviar… it was like a cavalcade of the most indulgent rich people chow. No, not cavalcade. It was a fuckingorgy. A fucking orgy of supremely delightful food.

So, this was what Jon was referring to when he said that he was looking forward to the buffet. So much for getting my hopes up. I started to feel utterly dejected.

Nobody cares about a croissant when they can have lobster bisque… and filet mignon. And stuffed portabella—come on! What was the point of me even coming out here?

“Amy, are you all right?” Chui asked with a worried frown. “You’re looking kind of upset.”

“I was expecting a bigger turnout,” I admitted. “Who in the world is catering that freaking gastronomic orgy?”

“Look at the sign.”

“Acme Bread?” I sputtered. “Those copycat BASTARDS. I had this idea first! Oh man, Chui. What the hell? How are we supposed to compete with that?”

“I thought you were going to schmooze the zoning board members?”

“I’m going to have to do an epic level job of doing that now.” I sighed. “Look, Chui, just try to, I don’t know, entice people over here.”

“Entice them?”

“You know, like, present the food. Like this.”

I picked up one of the plated eclairs and held it up in my palm, smiling and gesturing to it. “I see some people coming this way. Here, you try it.”

“I’ll do my best, Miss Amy.”

He took the eclair as an older man and woman wandered over.

“What’s this, dear?” The man asked. “Is that the dessert?”

I elbowed Chui. He lifted the plate on his palm, as I had done. His lips stretched in a wide smile. A very forced, disturbing smile. The couple paled visibly.

Chui double-arched his brows in quick succession as he gestured… sexually toward the eclair. Then he stuck his tongue out at the old woman, winked, and blew her a kiss.

---