Page 144 of The Billionaires

Reaching for my book, I resume reading until I hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet, followed by an angry throat clearing.

“Yes?” I put the book away for what feels like the hundredth time.

She thrusts something into my hands—a gizmo that looks like a large smartphone with a video game controller attached on each side. “Play this, and I dare you to tell me it’s not the best thing ever.”

I check out the screen, where I see a computer-generated likeness of Geralt, a.k.a. the Witcher, standing next to a horse.

“They’ve got the hair right,” I say. “And there’re two swords. I assume the horse’s name is Roach.”

“There are also sexy sorceresses,” she says so enticingly that it reverberates in my cock.

“Triss and Yennefer?” I can’t help but ask.

Looking like the proverbial cat who ate the canary, she asks, “Does that mean you’ll play?”

I hand her my book. “Only if you read this.”

She takes the book between her thumb and index finger like it might bite. “It’s been a while since I’ve read a book.”

I tsk-tsk. “All the more reason to read something now, before your brain permanently atrophies—like those of the rest of your short-attention-spanned cohorts.”

“Says the ancient,” she says sarcastically, then riffles through the pages, looking uncertain.

“Look,” I say. “The last time I played a video game was back in high school.”

She becomes a lot more animated at this. “What was the game?

“Super Mario Sunshine.”

“GameCube?” she asks excitedly.

“I think so. I even still have the thing somewhere in storage.”

Her eyes gleam. “I had the GameCube, and that game was my favorite when I was in grade school.”

“Grade school?” If she wanted to make me feel like an antique, mission accomplished.

“Yep.” She points at the device in my hands. “That’s a Nintendo console as well.”

I turn the gizmo over and read the back of it. “Nintendo Switch?”

“You’ve never heard of it?” She shakes her head. “You really do live under a rock.”

I sigh. “If being a grown adult is the same thing as living under a rock, then I’m guilty as charged.”

“I’m an adult.” As if unaware of the concept of irony, she accompanies the statement with a stomp of her little foot.

“Will you read the book or not?” I hand her the game console back since I’m confident she’ll go for the “not” option.

She grasps the book tighter. “I’ll only commit to finishing this if you swear that you’ll beat the whole game.”

“Deal.”

She grins triumphantly. “You know it’s about a hundred hours, right?”

“What?” I nearly drop the stupid console. “You’ll be done with the book in a tenth of that time.”

“So… you’re welshing already?” She hands the book to me.

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