Player & the Game Read Online Free PDF Page A

Cynthia’s mind that Cynthia always wondered what her life would be like if she was Mrs. Crisanto Weaver. After all, he was the holy grail of what all of the Gibbons girls had been taught to look for in a man.
    Lauren gritted her teeth. “Cris may be a millionaire, but that doesn’t mean I’m reliant on him! I have a job, my own damn money, and—”
    Stephanie loudly cleared her throat. “You done with the ATM, Cindy?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
    Cynthia nodded and stepped aside with Lauren still glowering at her.
    Stephanie inserted her card and quickly punched her password into the ATM to check her balance. A receipt scrolled out of the slot. She read it and blinked in amazement at the numbers.
    â€œThat’s not possible,” she murmured.
    â€œ One dollar and fourteen cents! ” Dawn declared, looking over Stephanie’s shoulder at the receipt. “How the hell do you have only one dollar and fourteen cents in there? I thought you said you had closer to eighteen thousand dollars!”
    â€œThis . . . This has to be a mistake,” Stephanie mumbled.
    â€œIt better be!” Cynthia cried. “Or you’re B-R-O-K-E too!”
    Stephanie was suddenly gripped with panic. She pushed her way past her sisters, who were huddled around her. She then ran to the bank doors as fast as her stilettos would allow.
    The portly security guard grinned as he held the door open for her. Too busy to flirt, she didn’t smile back. She stepped into the small, carpeted lobby with its potted plants and mundane office chairs before walking straight to the teller windows.
    There was only one teller on duty and the line was seven people deep. It zigzagged around a navy velvet rope.
    This can’t wait, Stephanie thought desperately. I need to talk to someone now!
    She walked past the LINE STARTS HERE sign and went straight to the teller window as an elderly black woman with glasses stepped away, clutching her bills and smiling.
    â€œHey!” shouted the middle-aged white woman in a gray business suit who was next in line. “We’re all waiting here, lady! You can’t just barge in!”
    â€œLike hell I can’t! This is an emergency!” Stephanie snapped back.
    The woman gaped.
    The young teller looked tiredly at Stephanie through the glass divider. “Ma’am, those people were in line.”
    â€œI know. I know,” Stephanie said, holding up her hands. “I’m not doing a transaction. I just want to check my account balance. Please! That’s all I need to know.”
    The teller pursed her lips. “Ma’am, you can check your account balance at the ATM outside or by phone. There’s a 1-800-number that’s—”
    â€œDamn it, I know that!”
    When the teller looked as if she was about to shift away from the counter to get the manager or press a panic button, Stephanie took a deep breath. “I know that. But . . . But I would like you to double-check, if you could. The ATM said my account is empty. Please , just check it . . . Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
    The teller’s nostril flared. She let out a long, slow breath. “Fine. What’s your account number? I’m also going to need some ID.”
    Stephanie quickly opened her wallet and handed the teller her driver’s license. She then rattled off her checking account number.
    After typing a few keys, the teller’s eyes scanned the computer screen on her desktop. “Your account isn’t empty.”
    At those words, Stephanie practically jumped for joy. She grinned. “Oh, thank God! I knew it had to be a mistake! It just didn’t seem—”
    â€œIt says here that you have one dollar and fourteen cents available,” the teller murmured.
    Stephanie’s grin disappeared. Her eyes almost popped out of her head. “ What? How’s that possible? What happened to the eighteen thousand dollars