Page 58 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

Chapter Twenty-Four

Mason

The paper airplane bounced off my head and landed on the glossy table. I stared down at it, twinned by a reflection, both the formerly pointed noses crumpled into a jagged series of bends.

“Seriously?” I said, turning to Chandler. “How old are you?”

“You’re never too old for paper planes. Besides, you had it coming. Stan the Man asked you four times to hand him the Salinger expense report.”

I looked sheepishly at Stan. “Sorry.”

I handed him the report. Stan cocked an eyebrow. “Want to tell the rest of us why you were off in la-la land?”

“I was planning something.” I shook my head in self-recrimination. “But I should have been paying attention. Sorry, everyone.”

“What were you planning?” Chandler asked.

“Probably something for that artsy chick he’s been slumming around with,” Stan quipped.

I felt a rare flash of anger. “I’m hardly slumming, Stan. Megan is brilliant, witty, and hell of a lot more interesting to talk to than you.”

“Ouch,” Stan said.

“To be fair,” Jon interjected “you DID drone on for about forty minutes the other day about soybean futures.”

“Soybean futures are like blue jeans. They never go out of style. With fermented foods on the rise in popularity—”

“See, there he goes again.”

“Hey, Mason,” Chandler said, garnering my attention. “Does this plan you have for your girlfriend have anything to do with the fact you’re going to be remote working for the next few days?”

“Maybe,” I said, being cryptic. I owed Chandler no explanations, given how little he was forthcoming about his own hookups.

“You’re really wrapped up in this chick, aren’t you?” Stan sighed, rolling his eyes. “She must be dynamite in bed.”

“Nobody’s as dynamite in bed, Stan,” Chandler said slowly “As your mom.”

“Fuck you,” Stan said, flipping him the bird.

“Why would I want that, when I can just stop off and see your mom!”

“Come on, man,” Stan said with a groan. “This joke is getting old.”

“Just like your mom.”

“Stop feeding him, Stan,” Jon said. “You know it’s like trying to swat a mosquito on your junk. You can’t use brute force.”

“I’m willing to give it a try.”

I drummed my fingers on the table. “Hello? There was a board meeting going on here, wasn’t there? Can we get this wrapped up?”

“So you can go make kissy face with your pretty little artist. Mwah mwah mwah—”

“Fuck it,” Jon said. “This degenerated a long time ago. Meeting’s adjourned. Anything we didn’t get to today we’ll take care of first thing at the meeting tomorrow.”

I gathered up my things and called my travel agent to make sure everything was in order. I was pleased to find that it was.

On my way down to the lobby, Megan called. I answered, finding her timing to be most serendipitous indeed.

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