Page 20 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

“Well, that’s too bad. Because you missed out. They won’t let us in the ball pit—we checked—but they’ll let us play all the games.”

“I never had much time for video games.”

I couldn’t tell from his expression or his attitude if he thought that was a good thing or not.

“Well, tonight, your tokens are on me.”

He laughed. “You know I can afford my own tokens, right?”

“That’s not the point. Your mom should have taken you to this place when you were a kid. It ruins the effect if you have to buy your own tokens. Besides, I just got paid for completing a mural downtown.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Maybe we can swing by and take a look at it after dinner.”

“I’d like that.”

“Cool. Um, the jerk-off owner decided to put a speaker box right over my signature line, but it’s still one of my better murals. Maybe this one won’t get painted over.”

We entered the restaurant. Mason took in all the sights with his gaze. The staff were used to the Old Bohemians and myself at that point. They didn’t roll their eyes nearly as much.

“Listen,” Howard said when everyone was seated. “It’s truly a blessing to have friends like you. Please, let’s just absorb the creative energy of this place and vibrate on a harmonic resonance with childlike joy.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Mason said, lifting his root beer high. “To harmonic resonance and childlike joy.”

“Yes!” Junebug said with a laugh. “I do believe we’ve found our new catchphrase.”

“Please,” Golga said, rolling her eyes. “Catchphrases are so, so pompous.”

Junebug gave her a look, his eyes narrowing to slits. “It’s ironic.”

“Ironically pompous, maybe.”

“Hey, enough,” Howard said. “No bad vibes at this table.”

Howard turned his gaze on Mason.

“So, what was your honest opinion of my Cycle?”

“Honestly,” Mason said without missing a beat. “I was enthralled from start to finish. It was a one-of-a-kind tour de force that has left me changed on a primal level.”

Howard smiled. “Thank you. That really means a lot to hear you say that.”

He turned a glare on Junebug.

“Unlike some people…”

“Hey,” Junebug said. “You put on a gold loincloth and smashed hard-boiled eggs on stage while shouting about rambling and gambling for forty minutes. What did you expect my reaction to be? And anyway, I thought you were going to use raw eggs?”

“The theater wouldn’t allow it. Too unsanitary so I had to go with hard-boiled. At least I don’t deface public property and call it art.”

“Hey, graffiti has a tradition going all the way back to the Roman Empire.”

“So does gonorrhea, but who’s keeping score?” Howard snapped back.

The table erupted with laughter. I held Mason’s hand and flashed him a smile. Our food came, but I barely tasted it. It was all about the company.

And what good company it was.

---