A Good Little Girl Like You (A Sample)

into a mailbox.

See what you've done to me. This was all her fault. Or

perhaps it was all Kay's fault for making that damn bet. But,

if he thought about it enough, he realized that it was

nobody's fault but his own.

Much to his relief, he was actually able to talk through

his permanently gritted teeth, and although the words came

out muffled and distorted, he was able to make himself

understood if he spoke carefully.

O.E. didn't really want to talk to anybody, but when his

phone rang and it was from Dan Avery, he took the call.

"Dan."

"Hi, O.E. I forgot to tell you about the cleaning people

who come to my place every Tuesday. They're coming soon,

so if you're seducing anyone, you might want to get

dressed."

O.E. spoke slowly. "Not there now-in hospital. Broke

jaw. Wired shut."

"Oh no! That sucks. What happened?"

He offered a terse explanation. "Bar fight."

Dan chuckled. "Over a woman?"

Pretty good guess. Why else would he be in a bar fight

after making that stupid bet? O.E. grumbled.

"So did you get the girl?"

"No. Lost two in one day. Getting rusty."

"Really? Your jaw's wired shut, and you have no

prospects? Hmm, this may affect the betting pool on you.

I'll call Constance and let her know." He sounded entirely

too happy.

"Smart ass. I'm down, not out. Tell Kay her bet's a royal

pain." Dan agreed, and they hung up.

A nurse came in to offer a straw-fed meal. She had a

nice figure and a pretty face-he thought about asking her

out. Too bad there wasn't a bottle of bourbon on the menu.

I really should let it go for once. He could barely talk, so

how was he going to put the moves on this woman? And

besides, he looked like hell, wrapped in gauze and bailing

wire. He decided to lay there and be happy, simply admiring

her.

Then, a strange thing happened. The nurse was

standing next to him, explaining which of the meal items

could be eaten through a straw, and when he looked up at

her face, he saw Rebecca. She didn't look anything like

Rebecca, but he still imagined her there-that kissable little

mouth and that hair, redder in his imagination than in

reality. He no longer wanted this nurse, the woman from

the nightclub, or anyone else. He wanted Rebecca. He had

to get her back.

Slowly, he mumbled to the nurse. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure."

"Can you call someone?"

"Of course. Who should I call?"

O.E. got up and grabbed his wallet, pulling out