Page 41 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

“Oh,” I said. “Right.”

“Don’t worry, the window guy figured it out. They’re pretty quick on the uptake.”

I offered her my arm. “Shall we retire to our skybox and watch the race?”

“Yes, let’s get away from these ruffian peasants,” she said in a faux British accent. It’s hard to walk when you’re laughing that hard. “I do hope that the seat cushions are stuffed with goose down and the tears of colonized peoples.”

“Stop, you’re killing me.”

“Nah, you haven’t even passed out yet.”

We made our way to the skybox. As I opened the door, I explained why I even had it. “The firm leases this skybox, but we hardly ever use it. I’m only ever here if Bob is racing.”

Amelia glanced around as if impressed. “This is nice. I mean, really nice. Air conditioning, climate control, and—are you kidding me? Are these seats or thrones?”

She was exaggerating, a little. Wing-back leather-bound chairs stood near the window, offering an excellent view of the entirety of the track below. She settled into one and sighed. “Super comfortable. And to think of all the times I came here and my ass hurt from sitting on metal bleachers.”

I laughed and settled into the seat beside her. I offered her a pair of binoculars, which she declined.

“Nah, I can see just fine from up here.” She grinned. “Time to see some pretty, pretty horsies…”

She leaned her head on my arm and batted her eyes before laughing. She was relaxed and growing livelier all the time. I had all but forgotten about zoning boards, corner lots, and falling stock prices.

Bob’s race came up, and Amelia came out of her seat. She jumped up and down as he charged down the track, falling into third place but slowly gaining the lead.

“Woohoo! Go Bob! Yeah!”

I enjoyed her exuberance, finding myself watching her far more than the horses on the track. Her smile made my heart sigh with delight. I wanted Bob to win more for her sake than for my own.

“Come on, come on!” The horses raced across the finish line. “FUCK. Too close for me to tell… going to have to wait for the photo finish.”

She took my hand and held it as we waited for the results to come in. When Bob was announced as the first-place winner, she jumped into my lap and kissed me.

“We did it,” she said, her hand still on my cheek. I gathered Amelia into my arms and held her close.

It turns out, Bob was the only bet we won for the rest of the day. My trifecta bet fell apart after the second race, but I was having a blast anyway. We drank champagne and ate caviar, a new experience for Amelia.

“It tastes like salt to be honest with you,” she said. “Expensive, mildly fishy salt.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then realized that in a lot of ways she was right. “Well, it’s an acquired taste. Sort of like coffee. You can't tell much difference between coffees until you’ve drunk a lot of different kinds of coffee frequently. It’s like that with caviar.”

“I’d much rather have a taco,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Then let’s get some tacos.”

We were having a great time, which only made me feel greater guilt with each passing moment. I was the big bad wolf about to blow her house down, and she had no clue.

When I dropped her off at her place, she invited me up for a nightcap. But I was feeling far too down on myself to accept.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to take a rain check,” I said, kissing her softly. “But I adored spending time with you today. We must do it again, soon.”

“Yeah,” she said, a smile spreading across her lips and lighting up her eyes. “Yeah, we will.”

When I returned home, all I did was sit in my den and sulk. I wanted Amelia, but would she still want me once she learned the truth?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Amelia

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