Page 49 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

“Wait, Jack, did you hear me? I don’t want—”

I sighed as the line went dead. There was no way I could allow Jack to leak that info to the press. It would devastate Amelia and her aunt. There had to be another way to get the corner lot and still keep Amelia in my life. I just had to figure it out.

Somewhere.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Amelia

After the fact, I was plagued with the notion that it had been a mistake to tell Jonathon to call me the next day. Because when that next day dawned, it was all I could think about. I paced back and forth in front of my kitchen counter, where my phone rested on the wireless charger. You know that phrase ‘a watched pot never boils?’ Well, I was watching the pot and driving myself fucking insane.

I just want you, Amelia.

Shit, that had been exactly what I wanted to hear. I could even forgive him for calling me Amelia, as I’d told him never to do. But was it TOO much exactly what I wanted to hear? Pedro and Yerkov’s paranoia had proven to be quite contagious. I couldn’t help but analyze every little thing that Jonathon did with a suspicious eye.

And yet, in spite of all of that, there I was, pacing back and forth in front of my phone while Tickled Pink looked on with bored disinterest. The white cat was curled up on the end of the sofa, her pink eyes little more than slits.

The phone rang and I nearly stumbled all over myself in my rush to answer it. I snatched the phone up and then remembered to be casual at the last moment.

“What’s up?” I said in a voice that barely trembled, as my heartbeat thudded in my eardrums.

“Congratulations, YOU have just won an all-expenses-paid trip to—”

I smashed my finger into the red end call icon and then rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Really? You had to call me right fucking NOW?”

The phone rang again, and I hit the accept icon.

“Hello?” I snapped.

“Um, Amy?” Jonathon’s voice sounded tentative. “Are you alright? Is this a bad time to call—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn. “Um, what’s up?”

“You said I should call you today…”

“Yes, I recall saying that exact thing.” I swallowed hard. “So, did you mean it?”

“I’m sorry?”

I tried not to sigh, my lips drawing into a tight line. “When you said that you just wanted me. Did you mean that? Or are you just trying to get me back in bed?”

“I really meant it.” The conviction in his voice gave me heart. “I mean, of course I want to get you back in bed, but that’s purely coincidental.”

I laughed, and a lot of the tension fled my body. Not all, though. I couldn’t shake Pedro and Yerkov’s warning that Jonathon was just after the corner lot. He sure seemed like he was into me, though. I almost blurted out that I knew he was the owner of Acme Breads, but I didn’t. Shortly after I lost my nerve, he spoke again.

“Listen, I was thinking that it’s a lovely day for going out on the water. Would you like to join me on a little yacht cruise?”

I felt that prickliness return to my belly. What should I say? If I said yes, I had a feeling we were probably going to wind up in bed again. I wanted that, but I felt like I shouldn’t.

“Sure,” I said, when I realized that the pause had gone far beyond being pregnant. That was the octo-mom of pauses.

“Great. Is it okay if I send a car to pick you up and take you to the marina? I’m actually not quite back to the city yet, and if we met there—”

“Say no more. Or wait, actually, you need to say something, specifically which marina.”

He laughed and a moment later I received a text. “There’s the address—although it now occurs to me that my driver knows the route.”

“I could just drive myself,” I said. “I mean, I appreciate the offer and all, but—”

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