Page 50 of Meet Jon, the Billionaire

“Parking is a bitch at the marina if you’re not a member. Please, Amy, you work so hard to take care of your bakery. Let me take care of you in the same way.”

“Well, if you’re going to twist my arm…”

“My car will be there soon, but please don’t feel hurried.”

“Okay… Jonathan?”

“Yes?”

“It’s good to hear your voice.”

A moment of silence, then;

“Likewise. I can’t wait to see you again.”

I felt all gooey again. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

I looked down at myself and knew that my yoga pants and tank top weren’t going to cut it.

“Hey, Tickled Pink, what should I wear for a date on a yacht? I have literally no clue.”

She stared at me for a moment, yawned cavernously, and curled up to sleep. I always hate it when a cat yawns. All of that bestial, alligator-looking maw is disturbing and contrasts with their cute fuzziness.

I headed to my closet and threw the doors open. It occurred to me that most of my wardrobe was dedicated to business attire and things I could wear to the bakery. I picked out a blousy light blue dress with a subtle floral print. It could get hot out on the water, if there was no breeze.

Fortunately, I’d shaved my legs that time. I slipped into a pair of strappy sandals which would be both comfortable and practical on the deck of a ship and peered outside when I heard my phone ding. I checked the phone on the way to the window, not surprised to see a message from Jonathon telling me my car had arrived.

I peered out the window and saw that damn stretched limo waiting for me.

“God damn it, Jonathon,” I sighed. “My neighbors are going to hate me for taking up all the parking spots again.”

I hurried through the application of light makeup, mostly a little foundation and subtle lipstick. I decided to just wear my hair down, but made sure to bring along my favorite scrunchie in case I wanted to tie it back later. Then I rushed down to the street level and tried to pretend like I wasn’t walking right toward the giant limousine taking up all the parking spaces and generally annoying everyone.

I opened the door for myself and looked up at the driver in front. He was like a mile away. “Hi.”

“Hello, Miss Amelia,” He said with professional aplomb. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

I sat there for a moment while he drove and felt really silly. I mean, not talking to the driver and just sitting in my personal bus. I crawled up to the seat right up flush with the privacy barrier, which was currently down. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Me? Um, Joe.”

“Nice to meet you Joe. Just a second.”

“What are you doing?”

“Climbing up front with you. Makes it easier to talk.”

He laughed as I slid up into the front seat without allowing my skirt to ride up. I considered that a personal triumph. “Sorry, I just can’t ride back there by myself. It’s… creepy.”

Joe turned out to be a really interesting fellow. He’d been driving for Jonathon for several years, but was thinking of retiring soon because his stock options had made him financially well off.

On the other hand, I could tell that he liked his job.

“When you drive a limo, everybody’s interested,” he said with a grin. “Street sweepers and kings alike, they all turn to see when you pass on by. You can learn a lot about people in such moments, know what I mean?”

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