Chapter 111
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now
Chapter 111:
He was well aware of why Eric was here. âSo, sheâs the one,â he thought smugly.
But he played it smooth. âWell, Mr. Flynn, weâve got quite a few dazzling ladies here. Who exactly are you referring to?â
Eric smirked. âYouâre sharp, Lennon. Who else? I didnât crash into the dressing room for just anybody.â
Lennon chuckled, rubbing his hands together. âRight, right. Sheâs on after three more songs tonight.â
Eric arched a brow. âNo fixed schedule?â
âIt shifts based on a random draw among the dancers.â
Random draw? That was new.
Lennon, catching Ericâs interest, launched into a rundown of the Dance-Off Championship before flashing another wide grin. âMr. Flynn, why not join in on the excitement?â
Joining in on the excitement?
Eric lifted a brow. Lennon certainly had a way with words.
âAlright.â
He was here for S, and he wasnât about to let anyone outbid him.
âHereâs the deal. No matter who places the highest bet, Iâll top it by half a million.â
Lennonâs jaw nearly hit the floor.
âVery well, Mr. Flynn!â he said, barely containing his excitement. âIâll go ahead and thank you on her behalf.â
Then, as if struck by another idea, Lennon added, âWhatâs your drink tonight? Iâll have it ready for you.â
Eric shot him a sidelong glance. âTrying to squeeze more out of me, are you?â he thought.
Still, he shrugged. âLet her decide. Whatever she chooses.â
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âPerfect!â
Lennon beamed and dashed off to find Hadley.
âHadley! Great news!â
Hadley, still fixing her makeup, turned to him with a questioning look.
âWhatâs got you so giddy?â
âYouâve got a sponsor!â
Lennon rubbed his hands together eagerly. âSomeone just declared theyâll beat any bid by half a million, no matter what!â
That was a staggering amount.
The final bids werenât even set yet, but that kind of money was jaw-dropping.
It made sense why Lennon claimed she didnât comprehend the world of the rich when she first voiced doubts about this dance-off event.
The wealthy did toss cash around like confetti.
âGet ready!â Lennon urged, noticing Hadley was still dabbing at her makeup with the precision of an artist adding the final stroke to a masterpiece. âI wonât hover; itâs not the moment to make an entrance just yet. But donât worry, youâll meet him after the competition. And trust me, heâs not some old relic clinging to his last strands of hair.â
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