Page 69 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Jonathon said. “But the fact is, Acme Bread kitchens are far more… simplistic than Breadcetera. Whatever product I present, it has to be something that we can make in-store.”

I gave him a look until he blanched. “I know that, genius.”

“Oh.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry. Do go on.”

“Back in the late 80s, my aunt experimented with a chocolate marshmallow cream fried pie. Kind of like the Hostess ones, only way, way better.” My eyes grew distant. “This was before I was born, you understand. They sold great, but the rising costs of materials made it prohibitive for the sales floor. She only makes them now on holidays for her family.”

“If they’re costly to make, the board might not go for it,” Jonathon cautioned.

“Yes, but the main reason why it’s cost-prohibitive is that as a small, one-store business, we couldn’t secure a bulk deal from the distributors on the pure sugar marshmallows we needed. Acme Bread, on the other hand…”

His eyes began to gleam. “And you think we can pull this recipe off in an Acme kitchen?”

I tossed bills on the table for the tip. “Only one way to find out.”

He drove me to the nearest Acme franchise. Boy, where those workers shitting themselves when the actual CEO showed up at their store. Even when Jonathon assured them he wasn’t there to spy on them, they kept glancing at us over their shoulders. I noticed the manager dispensing employees to sweep the parking lot and wipe down the windows.

Jonathon and I laughed as much as we worked. There was something of a learning curve—and the cheap mass-produced flour that Acme bread used as their stock in trade left much to be desired—but I managed to whip together a pretty decent, deep fry-able pie crust using the materials on hand.

The marshmallow chocolate cream filling took a bit more work, but I finally remembered my grandma’s secret—egg whites folded into the mix—and we produced a dozen of the pies.

Once glazed and cooled, we foisted them off on the employees to get their reactions. At first, I feared they were being sycophantic to impress the CEO. However the look of genuine delight on their faces couldn’t have been faked.

Jonathon and I shared one of the pies, and his eyes sparkled with delight. And probably some avarice too. Making money was one of his passions, after all.

“This is gold!” He declared. “Amelia, how can I ever thank you?”

“You can withdraw your bid,” I said with a chuckle. Then my smile faded. “But we still need to convince the board of directors at your investment firm this is going to be a hit.”

“One taste of this should convince them,” he said. “But I’ll draw up projections anyway.”

His brows climbed high on his forehead. “If you would accompany me to the board meeting, it might make my case easier to present.”

I considered it for a long moment, and then nodded. “All right, Jonathon. But after that, our association has to be over. You understand, right?”

He sighed. “I understand.”

I wasn’t sure who was more disappointed. Him, or me.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jonathon

My limo became a rolling war chamber as Amelia and I finished up our preparations for the presentation to the board. Normally, I wouldn’t be nervous about making a presentation. For one thing, the board had never told me no before. For another, I knew my shit.

This upcoming presentation would be way different. It would perhaps be the most important presentation of my entire life. I think perhaps that, because it was the last thing Amelia and I would be doing together, I had decided to invest myself in it a thousand percent. If it really was going to be the final time Amelia and I spent together, I would make it a raging success.

We’d spent the past week preparing our presentation for the board. We’d hosted focus groups, given out samples and collected feedback at supermarkets, and done tons of crazy market research. I truly believed that the Petunia Pies would be a massive hit. The problem was, convincing the board of the same.

Of course, the most important aspect of our presentation was held in a thermal bag, ready to be dispensed to the board. Dozens of the Petunia Pies, made with loving care at the Acme kitchen.

The limo rolled up outside of our corporate headquarters in Manhattan. Amelia peered up at the tower of glass and steel and swallowed hard.

“I think that I have never been this terrified in my entire life.”

“It’s just a building.”

“And the top floor is filled with a bunch of people who are literally going to decide the course of the future for both of our companies.”

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