millions in the city. Except he had his heart set on Rebecca.

She was smart, beautiful, not a gold digger, and even loved

The Wizard of Oz. It surprised him how very much he

wanted her. But he had to face facts, Rebecca was gone. Or

at least out of the picture until this bet was over.

With Rebecca gone, he had to find someone who didn't

know who he was, and the clock was ticking. It was easy at

the Westerley when all of Kay's friends were there, ignorant

of the famous O.E. Orton. But with the party over, who was

left? He could call up Suzanne, the scantily-clad

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bridesmaid, but her cloying attitude annoyed him. And all

of the other women he knew were unacceptable because

they couldn't be fooled. He needed to find a stranger, and

there was only one way to do that as far as he could see.

Nightclubs. He winced at the thought. And on a

Monday night, no less. The choices would be meager.

Please, anything but that. He hated the whole pickup

scene-the phony conversations, shouted back and forth in

a noisy room. It was no way to meet someone good. But for

a hundred million dollars, he'd be satisfied to meet

someone bad. He just needed to meet someone.

He went home to his penthouse condominium,

observing it through Rebecca's eyes for the first time. He

had the entire top floor of a luxury building overlooking the

park. Would she approve, or would she think it was too

much? Would she call him an obnoxious rich boy, or would

she suddenly want him and his money even more? But the

question that O.E. really wanted to know was why he was

thinking so much about Rebecca.

His housekeeper, Emeline, had left notes for him about

the food she had prepared and about missed calls. Emeline

was a good woman, and she worked hard trying to keep up

with O.E.'s whims. Now that he was a billionaire, he should

probably give her a raise-she deserved it.

O.E. changed into more dressy clothes-no nightclub

would let him in with jeans, even on a Monday. Soon he was

at a club, standing at the bar, surrounded by flashing lights

and pounding music. He downed a shot of bourbon and let

it percolate its warmth through him. Then he wandered

around to choose his prey.

Well hello, gorgeous. Farther down the bar, a dark haired

beauty sat like a statue, staring straight ahead. Her

red sleeveless blouse was tight enough to draw men's stares,

and her fitted black miniskirt revealed an irresistible tangle




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