Page 20 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

Something happened, though. Amelia and I began to get serious. I think we were showing off for each other, a little pre-date priming of the pump, so to speak. I know that I enjoyed watching her run after a serve, her skirt flouncing up into the air and allowing me a view of her tiny spandex shorts beneath. She had a great ass, and I nearly faulted on a serve because I was so distracted.

I wanted her to see me at my best as well. I pushed myself, intent that Swede One and Swede Two were not going to win the tournament. I caught Amy checking me out quite a bit, too. I caught her gaze and she shrugged, smiled, and then turned a fiery gaze back to our opponents.

I started to feel bad. Like, really, really bad. You see, I had decided at that point that my victory was a foregone conclusion. Acme Bread would be building on the corner lot, and nothing could stop that. I had to create value for investors and justify the expenditure of gaining a controlling interest in Acme to my partners at the firm.

Yet, when I won, Amy would be disappointed. Maybe even hurt. For the first time in my life, I started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, winning wasn’t always worth it.

Chapter Eleven

Jonathon

“I feel so stupid,” Amy said as she stood on the other side of the trophy we’d just won.

“Why?” I asked. “Because we’re groping a giant bronze statue of Telly Savalas?”

It was true. The trophy for the Telly Savalas Memorial Charity Doubles Tournament was a life-sized replica of the actor of stage and screen. The engraved plate held our names, and the words ‘who loves ya, baby?’

“No, because I didn’t realize I’d be getting my photo taken.” She gestured at herself and sighed. “I’ve been playing tennis all day in the hot sun, my hair is back, and I don’t have an ounce of makeup on. I’m going to look awful.”

“I think you look gorgeous.”

Her cheeks pinked, and she laughed, smiling that impish smile. “You’re just saying that.”

“Not true. You’ve made today one of the best times I’ve ever had.”

She glanced at me, wanting to believe it, but I could see caution dancing behind those gorgeous amber eyes.

Who hurt you, Amelia? Who made you so reluctant to trust? I’ve got my work cut out for me on our date tonight.

“Hey, don’t be anxious,” I said. “Look.”

I reached down and cupped the statue’s buttocks. “Look, I’m coping a feel on Kojak.”

She laughed, almost falling over. “You’re just terrible!”

“Hey you know, his ass is really firm,” I said. “I think he works out. Do you think he does HIIT?”

“Stop, stop, I’m going to pee!” Amy sputtered, holding one hand up in front of her scrunched-up face.

We finished the photoshoot, and then took a few more pictures with various bigwigs of the Country Club’s administrative staff. Then we were walking back to the parking lot, and both seemed to be searching for the right thing to say.

We stopped at her car. “Well, I have to go and get my dog.”

“Right, poor Flash.”

“He’s been fine. Believe me, if he wasn’t, we’d have heard him. Barooooo!”

She laughed and stared up at me expectantly.

“Is it good if I pick you up at seven?” I asked.

“Yes, that should work out fine.”

Those eyes… I felt like I could fall into them and never crawl back out. I shook off the mesmerism and dug out my phone.

“Um, here, let me… let me give you my number.”

I cringed on the inside at my own awkwardness. Needless to say, that didn’t happen to me very often. What was it about her that had such an effect on me?

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