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Chastising himself for letting his imagination run away with him, he set aside the paper

and thoughts of plain Jane Kurtz, turning his attention to returning phone calls and processing paperwork of neglected cases. He and Theresa both worked late to catch up on things he’d

allowed to slide while he’d labored over the Kendall case. Around six o’clock, he had Chinese food delivered.

While they were eating, Theresa pointed a chopstick at him. “You need a vacation.”

“I know,” he muttered. “I’ll take one…someday.”

“Why don’t you take some time this weekend?” she asked. “You’re not going to hear

anything about the Kendall case until next week. You need to recharge, Perry, so you can get this firm back on its feet.”

He gave a dry laugh. “I can’t afford to take a vacation.”

“You have a million frequent flyer miles—use them.”

“I’ll think about it,” he promised.

“Hey, look,” she said, pointing to the TV set in the corner of the room.

“Someone won the lottery.”

The volume was down, but the picture showed a group of people crowded around a

podium. Theresa reached for the remote and turned up the sound.

“Five coworkers of Cable One Communications who work on the popular Just Between Us

talk show have come forward with today’s winning Lot O’ Bucks ticket to claim just over thirty-eight million dollars.”

“We were just talking about that show,” Theresa said.

The camera panned the winners quickly, and anyone not looking for the slight woman with

the honey-colored ponytail would’ve missed her.

“That’s her,” Perry said, lurching forward. “That’s Jane Kurtz!”

Theresa gave a little laugh and went back to her fried rice. “Looks like you didn’t have to

spring for that tire after all. Something tells me that Jane Kurtz will be buying a whole new car.”

“Are you still walking on air?” Eve asked.

Jane laughed into her phone. “When I left this morning, my life was normal, and now I’m

driving home a millionaire—it’s mind-boggling.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Eve said. “Everyone is calling for an interview.

This is a media storm! Are you sure you don’t want to participate?”

“I’m sure,” Jane said. “I’m not comfortable in front of the camera. You guys can handle it.

Have you decided what to do about the show?”

“No…but a couple of days of hiatus will do everyone some good, I think.”

Jane smirked—Cole Crawford was no dummy. Putting the show on hiatus would free up

Eve to appear on other talk shows and raise her visibility. With the money at their disposal, he and Eve could form their own production company…the sky was the limit. “It’ll be nice to have a couple of days to let things soak in,” she agreed.

“What are you going to do first?” Eve asked. “Something sensible, I’m sure.

Maybe buy a new car, but nothing too fancy?”

She knew her friend was only teasing, but the realization that people expected her to do

something…expected rankled her. “I don’t know. I might surprise everyone.”

“Right,” Eve said dryly. “And do what? Buy a new TV? A new washer and dryer?”

“Maybe,” Jane conceded, then squirmed in her seat. “I haven’t wrapped my mind around

the possibilities yet.”

“Oh, that’s Cole beeping in. Can I talk to you later?”

“Sure,” Jane said. “Talk soon.”

“Okay.”

Jane disconnected the call and gripped the steering wheel tight. The day had been surreal—

the trip to the lottery office, signing the back of the ticket, attending the hastily-arranged press conference. She had hung back, allowing her more camera-ready friends to answer questions

from the media. Her mind still reeled with the wonder of having so much money. Her parents,

God rest their souls, would never have been able to grasp the concept of her share.

“Six point three million dollars,” she murmured, testing the number on her tongue. Then

she grinned. “Six point three million dollars,” she said, louder.

“Six point three million dollars!” she shouted, pounding on the steering wheel.

The man sitting in the car next to her in traffic looked at her as if she was crazy, sending a flush to climb her face. She settled back in her seat, but a smile crept over her mouth. “Six point three million dollars,” she whispered.

She wondered if anyone else knew—and who she should tell. Most of her friends were her

coworkers, so they knew. As far as her neighbors…

Perry Brewer. A smirk curved her mouth. She wouldn’t have to put up with his noisy

shenanigans much longer. She could afford to buy a nicer condo…or a big house where she

wouldn’t have to share a wall with anyone.

She could, she realized, have almost anything she wanted.

Dinner, for instance. She could go to that expensive restaurant in Buckhead that she’d been

hearing about. But she didn’t want to go out alone. On impulse, she called the restaurant and asked if they delivered. They did, the woman informed her, but there was a hefty delivery

charge.

Jane bit into her lip. “How much?”

“Thirty-five dollars,” was the crisp response.

Jane winced, then realized that she was going to have to start thinking like a rich woman.

“That’s fine. I’ll have a lobster tail, a Caesar salad, and a bottle of your best chardonnay.”

“I’ll need a credit card number, ma’am.”

Jane swallowed and realized that until her share of the winnings was wired into her bank

account, she’d have to float expenses on her American Express card. She gave the charge

information to the woman, but nearly changed her mind when presented with the total of more

than two hundred dollars. She reminded herself that she could afford it…that it was a first-in-a-lifetime splurge to celebrate a turning point in her life.

She pulled into the condo parking lot and wheeled into her assigned spot, noticing that

Perry’s vehicle wasn’t there. Maybe she would get a reprieve this evening from the explicit

antics next door. Unbidden, snatches of the couple’s lovemaking sounds came back to her,

sending a tingle to her midsection and warmth to her cheeks. She did not want to have to listen to that again…absolutely not…

When she unlocked the door to the condo, she walked in and flipped on lights, feeling

antsy. She set down her bag and paced the length of her condo. Then she shed her work clothes and took a long, hot shower, for once not caring about her water bill, and telling herself she would buy French milled soap as soon as she figured out where to buy it.

And one of those nice, waffle spa robes, she thought as she shrugged into her pink

terrycloth standby. And nice towels, she decided as she wrapped her hair turban-style in one of her discount finds. Her phone rang, indicating her food delivery. She buzzed the man into the building and met him at her front door, signing for the largest tip she’d ever given anyone. But the aromas wafting from the foiled box were decadent, and the wine was chilled to perfection.

This was how the other half lived.

She spread the feast on her dining room table, thinking only last night she’d been eating

Chinese food on her couch, with no idea how her life was about to change.

What a difference a day made.

She put on a Tristan Prettyman CD, in the mood for the folksy love songs, and trying to be

proactive about filling her space with noise to help insulate her from any sound coming through the walls. She had just started the Caesar salad and was a glass into the bottle of wine when her doorbell rang. Jane frowned, not expecting anyone. She carried her glass of wine to the door and checked the peep hole. Her stomach did a little flip, then she swung open the door to the smiling face she’d once found very attractive.

“Hello, James.”

“Jane…sweetheart.” He leaned forward and hugged her, not noticing her lack of

participation. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by like this.”

“What do you want, James?”

He looked contrite. “I want you to forgive me for being so stupid.”

Jane pressed her lips together. “Can you be more specific?”

“I miss you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been meaning to call you for weeks, but I didn’t think you’d talk to me. Then I

saw you on TV, heard about the big news.” He held up a bottle of wine. “I thought I’d help you celebrate. I knew you’d be alone.”

She was trying to decide if that was an insult when footsteps sounded in the hallway. Jane

looked up to see Perry Brewer walking toward them. His gaze focused on her and James, and she suddenly realized that she was in her robe, obviously fresh from the shower.

“Hello, Jane,” Perry said.

“Hi, Perry.”

The men looked at each other.

“James, this is my neighbor, Perry Brewer. Perry, this is James Watling, uh, a friend of

mine.”

“I’m her ex,” James offered with his handshake.

“I see,” Perry said, then turned back to Jane. “I have your tire in my SUV. I’d be glad to

change it if you’ll give me the key to your trunk.”

James looked back and forth between them. Jane felt a little burst of retribution that he

obviously thought something was going on between her and Perry. “Let me get them,” she said

cheerfully.

When she walked inside, James followed and set the bottle of wine on her counter. She

fished her keys out of her purse, then backtracked to the door and handed them to Perry.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Perry said, then hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else.

Instead he glanced behind her at James, then back to her. “I’m going to change clothes, so

it’ll take me a few minutes.”

“Just ring the doorbell,” she said, then took a sip from her glass.

He nodded and turned toward his own door.

Jane closed her door, then frowned at James. “You interrupted my dinner.”

“Is there enough for two? It smells great.”

“Sorry,” she said, not sorry at all.

“How about a glass of wine then? For old times’ sake.”

Jane chewed on her lip, studying the man. She remembered his parting words to her, that

she was a bore. Apparently her newfound fortune made her more interesting. “I don’t think so, James.”

He walked up to her and rubbed her upper arms. “Jane, we had a good thing…we just let it

get stale. Come on. One glass of wine. I just want to talk, catch up.”

“One glass,” she agreed, reluctantly admitting that having company tonight—even

James—was better than being alone.

He grinned and helped himself to a glass from her cabinet. After he poured the wine, he

lifted his glass. “To your new life. I hope there’s a place in it for me.” His eyes glittered with hope and…affection?

She allowed him to clink his glass against hers. Then she took a fortifying gulp of the wine.

Perry slammed Jane’s car trunk with more force than necessary, then jammed his hands on

his hips. Jane wins the lottery and her ex-boyfriend shows up at her door? Surely she could see through that, couldn’t she?

The guy was smarmy. Perry could tell by his body language, his weak handshake…and the

proprietary way he leaned toward Jane.

How long had they dated, he wondered? And how long ago had they split up? Had she

been in love with this guy? Did she let him drive his hands into her silky hair?

Probably, Perry reasoned as he backtracked to her condo door and rang the doorbell.

Because the guy probably hadn’t called her a homely little geek. The guy probably made her

feel…pretty.

She swung open the door.

And she was pretty, Perry realized with a start. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright,

her mouth plump and shiny. Slender legs extended from the knee-length robe she wore, and at

the thought that she was probably nude beneath, his cock jumped in his jeans.

“Did you finish?” she asked.

“Uh, yes,” he said, then pulled her keys from his pocket.

She took the keys and he noticed that her hands were graceful, her fingers long, her nails

natural and of a practical length. “That was very nice of you,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, bewildered over his sudden physical awareness of this

woman. It was the wine, he thought. It gave her a languid look. It was the way she might look in the throes of lovemaking.

“Good night,” she said, and started to close the door.

“Uh, Jane.”

She opened the door. “Yes?”

“I, um, saw you on the news. Wow—congratulations.”

She smiled. “Thanks. It was rather unexpected…I don’t think it’s sunk in yet.”

He glanced past her and saw James standing next to her balcony door in the distance.

“Jane, I don’t mean to pry, but have you contacted an attorney?”

“No. Why should I?”

“Because once people find out that you won the lottery, they’ll be coming out of the

woodwork trying to get next to you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

She took another sip of wine. “I appreciate your concern, but I think I can handle it.”

Then she closed the door in his face.

Perry straightened, then grimaced. Obviously, she couldn’t wait to get back to her ex. Was

the guy trying to wheedle his way into her life again, with his eye on her multi-million-dollar bank account?

He returned to his own condo and pulled a beer out of the fridge, irritated at everything in

general and nothing in particular. He switched on the TV and watched a few minutes of a

football game, but found his mind wandering. He glanced at the wall he and Jane shared. Was it his imagination, or had her music gotten louder? Perry scowled and stood, then walked to the

wall and pressed his ear against it.

Nothing. But maybe they didn’t make noise when they made out. Maybe Jane was the