Page 21 of The Billionaires

Gram gasps. “Oh, no! Call her. Immediately.”

Is that panic in her voice? Seriously? “Okay. I’ll call.”

“Good. Don’t mess this up,” Gram warns and hangs up without a goodbye.

Just like in business, I analyze the decision I’ve reached quickly, all the pros and cons aligning neatly in my head.

Pros: Gram will be happy—and maybe, though unlikely, healthier too. Another benefit, albeit a minor one: this should reduce the number of gold diggers I have to dodge at events. Also, it might make me more relatable to certain types of people, thus smoothing the way for some business transactions.

Cons: I’ll have to deal with Juno, and by extension, that nightmare of a cat.

So, it’s decided. I will make Juno my girlfriend. A pretend girlfriend, obviously. Now I just need to do some due diligence to make sure she isn’t married and doesn’t have too many skeletons in her closet. To that end, I get in touch with my Head of Security and explain the situation.

“What do we know about her?” he asks.

“Her first name is Juno,” I say. “Elijah dropped her off at her place, so we have her address. Oh, and she was in the building for some plant-care-related job interview.”

“That’s plenty to go on,” he says. “Do you want the usual dossier?”

“Just check for any red flags and make it fast.”

He assures me that he’s on it and hangs up.

I refocus my attention on the ferrets.

Blackbeard is dragging a garden glove that he stole from who knows where, Caligula’s head is buried in the lilac planter, and Malfoy is nipping Caligula’s nipple, one cringingly close to his “bellybutton.”

I shake my head, watching them. Some people—including my own mother—like to kiss said “bellybutton,” or gently poke it, or tickle it, or rub it, or blow raspberries into it. Hopefully, they do it without realizing the biological reality that when it comes to male ferrets, what seems like their “bellybutton” is actually their penis.

Seriously, I can’t wait until our brains are integrated with computers. Maybe then, most humans won’t be so dumb.

CHAPTER 10

JUNO

“Tell me everything.” Pearl’s exaggeratingly demanding tone and the way she strokes her cat conspire to make her resemble an evil villain—or to reveal her true nature. “And I mean every detail,” she continues. “Or else.”

With a sigh, I gesture for her to sit on my raggedy couch and launch into it, pacing around the tiny space of my studio. For self-preservation reasons, I do not mention the water bottle incident or the wet dreams Pearl interrupted by showing up so early.

“So… you didn’t know that Lucius Warren is one of the richest men in the country?” She says this with such passion Atonic stops being catatonic and gives me a lazy once-over from her lap. “The closest an American can get to being a prince?”

I shake my head, still stunned by that bizarre article.

“Or that he owns the building you were interviewing in?”

Another headshake. I feel dumb about this one because he did have the attitude of someone who owned that elevator. And the building, and the people, and the sky above it all. In hindsight, it makes sense that he turned out to be a billionaire—a reclusive, grumpy one at that.

Why on earth would anyone think I’m his girlfriend?

Pearl’s eyes drill into me. “And you are absolutely, positively sure you guys are not dating?” The disappointment she’s channeling rivals that of Star Wars fans when they first saw Jar Jar Binks.

I roll my eyes. “The reporter totally made the whole thing up. By now, Lucius has probably forgotten all about me.”

My doorbell rings.

Pearl arches an eyebrow. “Expecting anyone?”

I throw a suspicious glance at the door. “No.”

---