Page 16 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

“I’ll pick you up at five.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you with the question.”

“You didn’t,” he said hastily. “You really didn’t. I’m not upset. I’m just not sure how to answer the question without sounding like an arrogant, bragging jerk.”

“Well, all right.” I sat down on my battered sofa and grinned. “Let’s play a little game of twenty questions, if you’re game.”

“I’m always game. I love playing games.”

There was something in his voice that made me think he meant games in a decidedly adult way, but I couldn’t put my finger on it enough to call him out for it.

“I see. All right. First question. Do you own your own private island?”

He laughed pretty hard. “No.”

“Hmm. COULD you afford one?”

A long pause. I heard him typing.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m checking to see how much an island is going for. Hmm, yes. I could afford it. But I wouldn’t want—”

“Don’t give away more information than you have to. Don’t you know how this game is played? Okay, next question. Do you own a limo?”

“Sever—I mean, yes.”

“Ha, you gave it away, didn’t you? Next question. Did you start off with an inheritance?”

“No.”

I whistled. “Seriously? That makes me think you’re less rich than I thought.”

“Of course, that’s one way to interpret it.”

There was a touch of miffed, wounded pride in his tone.

“Are you a self-made man?”

“Yes. Was that one of the questions?”

“If you like.” I felt my heart pumping. I was enjoying the game. “So, are you a millionaire?”

“No.”

“Are you a billionaire?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit,” I sputtered.

“It’s true.”

I chuckled softly. “No, I believe you, it’s just… you’re so low key and approachable.”

“Sometimes. I get worked up in the boardroom from time to time. But I guess I’m a man like any other. If you cut me, will I not bleed?”

I laughed. “I don’t know, maybe I should test that and find out? You’re almost too good to be true, Mason. It wouldn’t surprise me if you were some kind of Mandroid created to be the perfect boyfriend.”

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