Page 26 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

Chapter Fourteen

Jonathon

New York is crazy with restaurants. Like super crazy. They ran the gamut from street pizza and hot dog vendors to your top-quality five-star restaurant.

Of course, since I wanted to impress Amy, I’d gone all out on reservations. We were set to dine atThe Blue Genie, an elevated Mediterranean place up on the Upper East Side.

The limo pulled to a stop and I made sure I was the one to open the door and offer Amy a handout. I kept my eyes carefully on her eyes as I did so, even though I really wanted a peek at those stockings again. What did she have on underneath that dress? It was driving me insane.

“Thanks.” Amy smiled shyly at me. I kept hold of her hand as we walked up the entrance ramp. “I’ve driven past this place before, but I’ve never been.”

Her sweet brown eyes turned my way and peeled away the layers of crude matter to stare into my soul. I almost missed what she said because I was lost in her gaze.

“I don’t know how you managed to get reservations on such short notice.”

“Hmm? Oh, you needreservationsto eat here?” I gaped in mock astonishment and clapped my hands against my face. “I thought it was cash and carry! Is a pretzel going to be okay?”

Amy’s face creased as she favored me with a chuckle. “You know, I really don’t care where we eat.”

“Of course I have reservations,” I said quickly. “As far as how I was able to get a table so quickly, well, that’s my little secret.”

“Uh-huh.” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “You own it, don’t you?”

I burst into laughter. “Yes.”

“Yeah, I knew it. Nobody calls the Genie and gets the same day reservation unless they kill someone.”

“How do you know I still didn’t have to kill someone? The Genie is real, and he demands a blood sacrifice for same day reservations.”

Amy laughed again as we entered the Genie. A few people’s gazes darted our way, because she had the kind of laugh that carried. The host had obviously been looking for me, specifically, because he was there to greet us before we’d taken more than a step into the carpeted lobby.

“Greetings, Sir,” he said before turning to Amy and bowing his head. “Madame. Table for two?”

“Indeed,” I said.

He led us down a corridor bordering the main dining area to an elevated space looking down on the restaurant floor. A wicker screen provided privacy but could be seen through on our side.

I pulled Amy’s chair out for her, and she settled in.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

I walked around to the other side of the table and sat down. A bright-eyed woman of middle years stepped up to the table with a wide smile.

“Good evening. I’m Madge, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

We made our selections—lemonade for her, water for me—and opened the menu. Amy shifted about in the seat a bit.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No, something’s right. This is the most comfortable seat I’ve ever been in in my entire life. I mean, not even grandpa’s massage recliner can come close to this.”

“The stuffing is pure down, and the covering isn’t leather, but rather sharkskin—sustainably harvested, of course.”

“Of course,” Amy laughed. “I mean, poor sharks, but my butt appreciates it.”

I laughed. We seemed to be making each other do that a lot. I tried to remember when I was around a woman who made me laugh as much as Amy did, and I came up blank.

---