Meet Jon, the Billionaire: Playboy Meets His Soulmate by Laura Olsen

Author:Laura Olsen [Olsen, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jormungandr Publishing
Published: 2021-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Jonathon

I have a confession to make. Sometimes, when I dream, I see the scroll bar of the NYSE.

Obviously, I’m not put off by numbers. I’m no master theoretical mathematician but I get by good enough to make billions of dollars. Like most Americans, I am the type who thinks he’s above average in intelligence even if that’s not necessarily true.

Yet, when I stood there near the betting windows at the track—somewhere I’d never been before in my entire life—Amelia made me feel very humble indeed. It was clear that when it came to numbers I had a thing or two to learn from her.

“Okay, so in your specific race you can’t bet on anyone but your own horse.” Amelia gestured at the board. “So you might want to go across the board to maximize your profits and help mitigate your losses.”

“What?”

She grinned. “You bet on Bob to win, to place, and to show. If he comes in first, you get all three bets to pay out. But even if you don’t come in first, you can help offset the cost of your win bet, maybe even come out ahead.”

“I think I’m following you so far.” I stroked my chin. “What’s the biggest bet you can make?”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “At this track, it’s a pick six, I think. There are fifteen total races. You pick any six of them in consecutive order, and then pick the horse to win each. If the horses all win, you win huge, but that’s the ultimate high risk/high reward.”

“Would you pick six?”

She frowned, her face scrunching up. “You know, I probably wouldn’t unless I just had money to burn. If you want something similar to the pick six but it’s a bit more reasonable odds, you could try a trifecta, or a superfecta if they have one.”

“Right.” I laughed helplessly. “And those terms mean…”

Amelia grinned, her smile stretching across an already lovely face and making it lovelier. I think she enjoyed that I was such an apt pupil and ardent listener. “You pick one race and choose three or four horses. If they come in the exact places you list—usually first, second, and third—you win big.”

“All right,” I said. “Let's do a trifecta.”

I started to approach the window, but Amelia grabbed my arm.

“Whoa, whoa there, sport, you can’t just go up to the window when you don’t know what to say.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned. “You taught me the terminology—”

“I taught you SOME of it.” Amelia grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s simple. I’ll teach you.”

I soon discovered several things I hadn’t known before. One, you could bet on more than just the races happening at our own track. Two, there were as many theories for picking a winner as there were bettors. I’d never seen so many obsessed people in one place before.

As I learned the proper order in which to make my bet, I noticed some of them huddled in corners over tables, their eyes laser-focused on their phones or in some cases printed out sheets.

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