My Sister's Ex Read Online Free PDF

just want to see how far I can go.”
    “Are you a slumlord?” I ask with a playful grin.
    “No, baby, no, I know how to treat people. I am fair; just pay your rent on time, and we’ll be best friends.” He winks.
    “Oh, so you have good tenants, huh?”
    “Uh, yeah, they’re fairly good. If they’re not, I evict them. And I sue them if I have to.”
    Hearing Jeff talk about his work turns me on. I love a man about his business. And he sounds so strong and sure. He’s got his own thing going, and that’s good because my life is busy, too. I think we’ll complement each other just fine.
    “Only thing about me is I love money, but I don’t trust banks.”
    “Oh, so you don’t trust me?” I ask and snicker.
    “Baby girl, you aren’t the bank; you just work at the bank.”
    “I know … but why don’t you trust them?”
    “Their interest rates are a joke, and I just want to always be able to have access to my money anytime I want.”
    “That’s what the ATM is for.”
    “Yeah, and ATM stands for Always Taking My Money.”
    “Jeff,” I say, giggling. “That’s so cruel.”
    “Cruel, but true. The fees for using an ATM are outrageous. Plus, in an emergency, the ATM’s can be tied up, broken—shoot, some folks even steal those machines, load ’em up on the back of a big pickup and drive away.”
    “Nevertheless, you can still get your money, Jeff; it’s not like your cash is only in one specific ATM.”
    “Look, Marlene, I know what I’m talking about. Even if you can get to an ATM and get a cash advance, the banks charge you interest on all the money that you owe on your credit card, not just the amount of the cash advance. It’s highway robbery, bank-style. So my theory is never, ever trust a bank. And I love that I don’t pay fines because I … I store my money in unconventional places.”
    “Oh, yeah, like where?”
    “Only special people get to know special things about me.”
    “C’mon, Jeff, tell me,” I plead, anxious to hear more.
    He merely shakes his head. I soften up and decide to back off.
    I proceed to vigorously scrub and rinse off plates and skillets and pots, then wipe down the counters so that everything looks and smells fresh. Then it hits me that doing housework does not look sexy. Not on a first date. So I toss aside the dish rag and slink over to the couch where Jeff is now seated. Hisbig-screen TV is on, and the volume is turned up high. NBA game. Lakers versus Celtics. I hate basketball, because it seems like the same plays keep happening over and over again.
    “Ooo!” I squeal and clap my hands like I’m deliriously happy. “Who’s winning? Who’s giving a beating and who’s taking a beating?”
    Jeff’s eyes light up and he grins. “You love b-ball? Have a seat. I knew there was something I liked about you.”
    I giggle, sit next to Jeff, and toss back my hair with a flick of my hands. I can sense that Jeff is staring at me more than he’s looking at the game. I pretend not to notice and continue grinning, trying to always look happy and act positive and drama-free.
    The game is being replayed from when it first aired earlier. It lasts another hour, late into the night. Jeff and I chitchat while the TV is on. I gotta pretend like I know who the players are, but I don’t recognize anybody on the court except Kobe, and that’s only because he was in the news for the rape accusation. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know that man if he passed me on the street. But I mentally take notes, pay all kinds of attention. I know men love women who are excellent listeners. And I want to do all I can so that Jeff will turn his mind to me, and keep his mind off Rachel.
    During one of the commercial breaks, Jeff smiles and nudges me. “Tell me some of your sexy stories.”
    “Huh?”
    “Every woman who has ever dealt with a man has a sexy story. Come on. Tell me.” His grin is irresistible.
    So, praying my honesty won’t backfire, I stare at him and say, “Okay, a long