Page 43 of The Billionaires

Trash like this doesn’t belong with someone as rich and successful as Lucius. Only a pure-bred member of the one percent does. Someone like, say, me, Eidith with an extra “i.”

The most impressive part is how quickly all of that is gone, replaced with a smile that you could locate in a dictionary next to “cool politeness.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Juno,” Eidith says, sounding so earnest I almost wonder if I imagined her initial reaction.

“Nice to meet you too,” I say.

A waiter approaches with a tray of drinks, so everyone grabs a glass.

“How did the two of you meet?” Eidith asks with seemingly genuine curiosity.

Crap. How could we not have prepared for something this basic?

“We got stuck in the elevator,” Lucius says.

Huh. Going with the truth. Ballsy.

Eidith clutches her pearls. “During that basement fire?”

“Yep,” I chime in. “I was cold, and he gave me his jacket.”

“And then we hit it off,” Lucius says.

Yeah, hits almost got thrown, that’s for sure.

“A silver lining to a disaster,” Eidith says and again sounds like she means it.

Seriously, have I misjudged her?

“Exactly,” Lucius says. “When we got outside, the reporters must’ve picked up on our vibe, so they wrote an article about us. Haven’t you seen it?”

Judging by the look on Eidith’s face, she hasn’t but thinks she was supposed to.

Before Lucius can lie more about our meeting, a horde of waiters arrives with trays of appetizers that they set on the table.

“Is this thing on?” says someone on the big stage—a celebrity whose name I can’t recall.

As the room quiets down, the celeb says, “Thank you so much for showing up to support the children.”

Children? I was wondering what this fundraiser was about.

As I listen, I grab myself a deviled egg and a cracker with caviar.

Turns out, we’re here to support bringing technology to classrooms in the neighborhoods that desperately need it—a spooky coincidence given my musings about text-to-speech earlier today.

As I look from the stage back to my plate, I do a double take.

Most of my egg is missing, as is all of the caviar. Only the filling from the egg and the cracker remain.

What the hell?

I sneak a peek at the portly gentleman next to me. He’s eating other appetizers. Besides, there are more eggs and caviar on the table, so why steal from my plate?

Maybe it was Eidith? She’s so thin she could use extra food. But no. She’s too many seats away to get away with it unnoticed.

Oh, well. I grab some more and watch my plate carefully. Nope. Despite this hangar being space-themed, there isn’t a wormhole that just happens to connect my plate with another galaxy. Both chicken and fish eggs stay put—until I eat them.

“And now, we welcome everyone to the dance floor,” the celeb says, and club music begins to blast.

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