Page 32 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

While I sat in my stockings on a stool before the vanity, using a cotton ball soaked in makeup remover to clean my face, I heard something which caused me to pay attention to the screen.

“…shares of Acme Bread have bounced back after the unexpected sale to Jonathon “Tiger” Thomas. Thomas has been installed as the CEO in what has been called a power move typical of his idiom—”

I didn’t hear the rest of what the announcer said. I was too busy staring in shock at the photo of Jonathon “Tiger” Thomas. It wasn’t just any Jonathon.

It was MY Jonathon.

Fuck. FUCK. He’s my competition… he’s the one who ruined my catering table at the tennis tournament!

I felt shocked, hurt, and betrayed. I began to wonder if he hadn’t been playing me for some kind of advantage on the bid for the corner lot.

I cupped my face in my hands and groaned.

“Tickled Pink,” I said to the cat who stared quizzically up at me from the floor. “I might have just made a huge mistake.”

Well, one thing I’ll say about Tickled Pink. She didn’t judge.

Chapter Seventeen

Jonathon

The whole ride back to my place, I couldn’t stop thinking about Amelia. All I had to do was slip my hand into my pocket and take hold of her panties to put a big smile on my face.

Usually, my interest in a woman, no matter how beautiful, terminated after the first time we made love. I wasn’t into repeat performances. Yet, all I could think about was how thoroughly disappointing was the fact that I hadn’t been able to convince Amelia to come back to my place.

When I’d asked Amelia out, I’d been thinking about getting her in bed, I’ll admit that. But the whole time I just felt the magnetism drawing us together grow stronger and stronger until we’d just clung to each other with desperation.

Something else: I can count the number of times I’ve gone down on a woman first on NO fingers… until Amelia. I hadn’t even given it a second thought. I just wanted to make her feel as good as possible, so she’d want to keep spending time with me.

Damn. Listen to you, Tiger. You don’t sound much like a predator right now.

My driver dropped me off in front of my building, and Jerry the doorman was there to greet me.

“Hey, Jonathon,” he said, making a big display of looking around me as if expecting to see another person. “Um, I thought you had a date tonight, big man?”

“I did.”

“But you’re coming home alone… what, was it your breath?”

“Or maybe I sealed the deal already and wanted some alone time?”

“Maybe,” Jimmy said. “But if so, it would be the first.”

I left him with a polite smile and entered the elevator. The whole ride up I tried to admonish myself for feeling so strongly for this woman I had only just met.

Fuck, Tiger, are you really all twisted up around her fingers so soon? And worse, why is it you don’t seem to care?

There was one nagging detail that really prevented me from enjoying the afterglow of my passionate encounter with Amelia. And that was the simple fact that she was my competition.

All the way up to my floor, I pondered how I was going to get around this fact. I couldn’t possibly keep the fact that I owned Acme Bread from coming out for much longer. I was surprised it had lasted as long as it had.

Then, as I was opening the door to my penthouse condo, I was struck with sudden inspiration. If the only thing bothering me about leaping right into a relationship with Amelia was the fact that we were competing with each other for the corner lot, then I would simply remove that variable. After all, Acme Bread didn’t have to have the corner lot to be profitable. It would certainly create value for the shareholders, but as I was holding the majority of the stock I would really only be hurting myself.

I decided then and there that Acme Bread would withdraw its bid for the corner lot. Without Acme Bread as competition, I didn’t see why the zoning board would choose anything but Breadcetera. After all, they were a legacy business, synonymous with Greenwich Village.

My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen.

“Stanley. What do you want this time of night?” I tapped the screen and put the phone to my face. “Talk at me, Stan the Man.”

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