Page 4 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

Which of course terrified me.

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, my dear. This bachelor is remaining single for at least another twenty years.”

“We’ll see about that,” Amelia replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal the top floor.

“You’re glowing,” she said, patting my arm before she and Jonathon preceded me out of the elevator. I stopped to check my reflection on the polished metal walls of the elevator car.

“I am so not glowing,” I grumbled, but my good mood was just too powerful. I couldn’t find anything to be upset about that day.

I entered the board room a few seconds after them. Stan Timmons, a lean and wiry bespectacled genius, sat in his customary spot by the water cooler. Chandler Reece, mustachioed, tanned, and athletic, smiled widely as I entered.

“Hey, there he is,” Chandler said. “So I guess you didn’t get my message last night?”

“Message?” I checked my phone. “Chandler, you didn’t send me any messages since the day before yesterday.”

“I didn’t?” Chandler checked his own phone. “Fuck. Forgot to hit send.”

My phone dinged, and an image appeared on the screen. It looked like an oil painting portrait of a man in front of a car. I barely glanced at it.

“Why are you sending me this?”

“Dude,” Chandler said, his smile twisting into a frown. “Take another look. A good look.”

I sighed, and squinted at the photo. I spread my fingers out, expanding the pic larger.

At first I didn’t recognize the man in the photo, probably because the last time I’d seen him he was much, much older. But I did recognize the car. It was a Shelby Cobra, cherry red and white and pristine.

It was my grandfather’s car.

I stared at the face, and picked out the bump in the nose section—we called it the Wilder bump—the piercing blue eyes, the strong jaw and broad shoulders…

“It’s… it’s my Grandpa.” My voice dropped to an awe-filled whisper.

“That’s what I thought when I saw it,” Chandler said with a nod.

“Where did you take this?”

“At the Galleria last night. Didn’t you check out all the exhibits?”

“Not exactly.” A smile came to my lips.

“Yeah, Mr. Super Stud here got some action at the Galleria last night,” Jon quipped.

“That explains why you vanished.” Chandler nodded. “And why you didn’t see the portrait yourself.”

I gave Chandler a look. “I wish you’d have sent that message last night. I would have bought that painting on the spot.”

Chandler cocked an eyebrow. “Actually, I tried to buy the picture for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I figured you’d be more than willing to take it off my hands at cost.”

“You figured right. What went wrong?”

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