Page 121 of The Billionaires

Great.

It’s the timer I set in order to make sure I’m not late—which means I haven’t unpacked a single thing in the allotted time.

Fine, I’ll admit it. Sometimes, I find it hard to make a decision. But hey, at least it would be hard for a shyster car salesman to take advantage of me—not unless they were willing to field my million questions and wait a year for me to choose the hypothetical vehicle.

Opening the door, I take a step into the hallway—which is when a furry, tiny creature whooshes out from between my legs.

Wait a second.

I totally forgot that Colossus was in the room with me. I wonder what he was?—

Oh, shit. What is that pink thing he’s got in his maw?

Please, no.

But the truth is inescapable. He’s got The Squirrel.

“Wait!” I shout.

Without turning or stopping, he wags his tail, which makes his opinion clear:

I’ve always wanted to chew a squirrel, but I’m happy to play this human-chase-puppy game instead.

The worst part is he’s headed for the kitchen.

No. Embarrassing myself in front of the movers was bad enough, but if Bruce sees that sex toy, I’ll simply?—

I hear voices coming from the kitchen, one female and three male.

Oh, fuck.

Has Bruce gathered his staff to introduce me to them?

“Please, Colossus,” I shout. “Stop!”

He wags his tail harder and speeds up.

I’ll consider trading this toy for an oatmeal cookie. With peanut butter.

Right. A treat. I pat all my pockets, but I have nothing even remotely edible.

Grr. If I were already working with Colossus, I would probably be able to bluff him by holding my hand out like I’ve got a treat, but it won’t work yet.

What kind of a shitty dog trainer am I? I gave the dog a chance at my boxes—and I don’t even have a treat in my pockets.

The kitchen is looming ever closer.

As I sprint, I pray to Anubis, the Egyptian god with a canine head. Please stop that puppy. I’ll do anything. I’ll always carry a treat from now on and watch the puppy carefully… and even foreswear masturbation. At least with toys.

Nope. Colossus doesn’t stop his mad dash.

Panting, I stumble into the kitchen, where the whole team is waiting for me, as I feared.

Should I pray to Anubis again, this time for the floor to swallow me?

A guy in a chef’s hat with orangish hair and a similar shade of spray-tanned skin has a spatula in his hand, so he must be Chef Foxposse. Spotting the running puppy, he backs away as if he were afraid of dogs… or sex toys.

Johnny Cash and Mrs. Campbell are here as well, and they’re gaping at Colossus’s maw—so I can’t hope they haven’t noticed.

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