Page 36 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

“I was half expecting him to say ‘in Soviet Russia, balls kick YOU,” I whispered to Pedro.

We both shared a chuckle. Yerkov didn’t even look up when he spoke.

“I heard that.”

I was still chuckling when I headed into the office. Somehow, talking to my friends about the affair made it easier to handle. I figured I could string a guy along as well as the next girl. It wasn’t my thing, in fact, I’d never done so before, but when I thought about how much my aunt’s bakery needed to expand into the corner lot, I realized that I had already made the decision.

Just as I was getting into my paperwork—exciting, sexy paperwork—my phone rang. I stared at it for a long time, wondering if I should answer. It was Jon, of course. The morning after call, proof that he wasn’t after my pussy… or at least not JUST after it.

Finally I answered, trying to keep my tone from revealing that I was onto him. “Hello?”

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, and his velvety soft tone almost made my resolve melt. Almost. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” I spun my chair around so I could look out the window. “How are you?”

This is awkward. What are you supposed to say to the guy who you’re trying to deceive?

“I’m just awful.”

“You are?”

“Yes, because you’re not here with me.”

I felt a flush come to my cheeks. Damn him, did he have to keep saying stuff like that when I wanted to be mad at him?

“Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me to the races.”

“The races? You mean, horse racing?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“I don’t know, if my bookie sees me there he might have Guido and Nunzio break my thumbs.” After a moment, I added, perhaps unnecessarily “That was a joke.”

The truth was, I was thrilled to go to the races, because one of the zoning board members—I couldn’t recall which one off-hand without looking at my notes—was known to frequent the track.

“Hey, if it wasn’t who am I to judge? We’ve all got our coping mechanisms. So can I pick you up tomorrow at noon?”

“Can we make it twelve-thirty?”

“Twelve thirty it is. I’ll be thinking about you, Amy.”

The call ended, and I glared down at the screen.

You’ll be thinking about me, huh? Well, I bet you won’t see it coming when I yank that corner lot right out from under your feet.

Chapter Nineteen

Jonathon

I don’t know how many drinks Stan and Mason had poured down my throat before they managed to convince me that buying a thoroughbred race horse was a sound investment strategy. I’m willing to bet it was a lot. Anyway, after a weekend in Cancun, I came out with a massive hangover and a thoroughbred named Genghis Bob.

Bob had a great pedigree. Apparently, he was a direct descendant from a horse called Lava Man, and many of his cousins and brothers had won numerous races. I had no idea of how to train or care for a horse, however, so I hired people who did. At the point that I’d bought Acme Bread, Bob had managed to win exactly one time out of two dozen races, and had barely managed to place or show. That horse cost me money and was most certainly not a sound investment. Still, I didn’t want to sell him. That would mean giving Mason and Stan the satisfaction of knowing that they had gotten me.

I knew that I didn’t have to attend his races, and often I did not, but this one happened to be in New York. I felt like I should attend, and I figured why not bring Amelia along? You know that old saying about women and horses, right?

The only problem was, the conversation I’d had with Stan the Man haunted me. I knew that we needed to get that corner lot, or Acme Bread would be years in recovery. I cursed the name of whoever thought Salmon and Lox toaster pastries was a good idea.

Of course, that meant taking the lot away from Breadcetera. Away from Amelia. I was stuck, and didn’t know what to do. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t.

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