My jeans would be too tight. Plus it was too hot to wear them. I looked in my closet. As I was going though my clothes I found a summer dress I brough.... It was the short type with sleeveless arms. It buttoned up in the front. I unbuttoned it and put it on. When I finished buttoning it up, I noticed it showed my bra to much. I took it off again. I removed my bra and put the dress back on. I looked in the mirror. I really didn't need a bra. Even at thirty seven my tits were still perky. The dress. "you're richer than quite a few billionaires," Michael laughed. "The Forbes 400 is a list of the 400 richest Americans and you are richer than almost three hundred of them." How does this work then?" I asked through my slowly weeping eyes. I was crying tears, not of joy, not of pain or anger, but tears of uncertainty. I had no idea how to be a billionaire. "Do I just ask for more money if I want it, or what?" The figure your lawyer showed you was fifty million dollars, correct?" Yes, and I. More

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