Player & the Game (2 page)

“O
pen your eyes,” Isaac whispered into her ear, making Stephanie's hair flutter along her temple, sending chills of anticipation up her spine.

“But I'm afraid to look, Isaac! Can't you just tell me what it is?”

“Trust me, baby. You'll like this surprise,” he assured warmly. “Open them.”

Stephanie held her hands over her eyes, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, scared to discover that the Cabbage Patch doll or the Barbie doll palace she had asked Santa to bring her wasn't waiting for her under the Christmas tree.

It had been a long day. The open house had gone well, but she still hadn't been able to forget about the stalker guy from earlier. His face kept haunting her, making her feel off her game as she showed the three-thousand-square-foot colonial to buyers and other real estate agents, as she tried to turn on the charm. Stephanie had been looking forward to her date with Isaac to help her finally forget about the stalker, but Isaac had shown up an hour late for today's date, which was out of character for him. He assured her that there was a good reason for his tardiness, and that “good reason” happened to be waiting for her outside her home. He instantly had piqued her interest.

She was accustomed to men bringing her gifts—perfume, diamond bracelets, and the occasional Birkin bag—but not one that required her to step out of her front door. Stephanie just hoped she wouldn't be disappointed. She and Isaac had been dating for less than two months. They were still in that period when “complete honesty” was a dirty word. If the surprise turned out to be lackluster, she'd have to pretend amazement. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. After all, the very resourceful and very
rich
financial planner Isaac Beardan could be her next husband.

“
If
you play your cards right,” her mother's warning voice whispered in her head.

Since her four daughters were old enough to wear lipstick and panty hose, Stephanie's mother, Yolanda Gibbons, had taught them that their goal in life was to sniff out a rich man and snag him when the opportunity came along. Stephanie planned to do that with Isaac, but she had to be cautious.

“Open your eyes,” Isaac ordered again as they stood on the curb.

Behind her palms, Stephanie practiced her amazed expression one last time. She slowly lowered her hands to her sides. Her eyelashes fluttered open.

Isaac rubbed her slender brown shoulders and grinned. “Well? What do you think?”

She wouldn't have to put on an award-winning performance this time.

Parked along the curb was a glistening cherry red SL550 Mercedes-Benz two-seater roadster with a tan leather interior and sparkling rims. Stephanie instantly hopped off the sidewalk and ran toward it.

“Isaac,” she gushed, “she's beautiful!”

“You like it?”

“I don't like her. I
love
her!” she corrected.

Anything that stunning
had
to be a “her.” Stephanie lovingly ran her fingers over the car door and laid her hand on the buttery-smooth leather head cushion.

“When did you get her?”

“I've had it for months back at my place in South Carolina, under a tarp in my garage,” he said casually, pushing back his suit jacket and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I finally had it delivered today.”

“Well, she's
gor
geous,” Stephanie whispered, ogling the car again.

She briefly envisioned herself in the passenger seat with the wind blowing through her hair as Isaac drove down I-495.

I have to take a ride in this bad girl—immediately,
she thought.

“And you're gorgeous too.” He then dangled his SmartKey. “. . . Which is why I'm giving the car to you; a gorgeous car for a gorgeous lady.”

Stephanie had been leaning over to look more closely at the dashboard buttons and video screen. When he said those words, she snapped up her head so fast she almost got whiplash. She blinked in shock and pushed her long locks out of her eyes, spitting hair out of her mouth.

“You're . . . You're giving the car to
me?
Really?”

He nodded and jingled the key, holding it out to her.

“Oh, Isaac,
baaaaaby!
” She ran toward him and leaped into his arms. Stephanie looped a hand around his neck and gave him a searing hot kiss while ever so gently tugging the car key out of his hand.

Isaac eagerly kissed her back, cupping his hand at the base of her neck and tilting back her head. His other hand then slid from her waist to her ass. He squeezed the cheeks then gripped them firmly. He parted her lips with his tongue.

Stephanie suddenly pulled her mouth away and shooed his hands from her rear end. No need to put on a display for the neighbors. Most of the old biddies in her neighborhood could document her every move anyway.

She tugged him toward her house. If they were going to do this, she wanted to do it in the privacy of her own bedroom.

“Come with me,” she said saucily as she led him up the concrete walk to her front door, making sure to put a little shimmy in her walk as she did so.

“But I thought I was taking you out to dinner?” He hopped slightly to dodge the spray of water coming from the sprinkler system on her pristine lawn.

“There's been a change of plans,” Stephanie whispered seductively, putting her key in her front door. She closed the door behind him and led him down a darkened hallway to her bedroom. When they entered, she shoved Isaac back onto her bed. She then slowly lowered the zipper on the side of her dress before tugging the straps off her shoulders.

“Is somebody about to be my bad girl?” Isaac asked huskily, taking off his suit jacket then his gray tie.

“Your naughty girl, baby!” she assured.

He squirmed excitedly as she opened her night-table drawer and pulled out the fur-lined handcuffs. She twirled them around her index finger and grinned.

Sex wasn't about enjoyment for Stephanie or for most Gibbons women. Again, it was about putting on a performance. Like a stripper walking the stage, she knew what to do to “make it rain,” how to get a man's blood pumping. Her pleasure wasn't important. What was more important was to become his fantasy, to leave him trembling in the beginning, and satiated in the end. At least Isaac didn't have any weird kinks that she had to work around. He liked handcuffs, the occasional blindfold, and ice cubes. She could handle that.

Tonight's performance was no different than any other. She undressed herself slowly, careful to leave on her high heels, letting Isaac take in the full view of her naked body in all its glory. Hours at the gym to maintain her size 6 frame were done for this very reason. When he gazed at her, she wanted everything to be taut, perky, and firm.

No cellulite dimples around here,
Stephanie thought.

She bound his right hand to one of the headboard posts, using the handcuffs. She used his necktie to bind his other hand. She undressed him too, opening his shirt buttons eagerly, lowering his pants zipper with her teeth, expertly putting the condom on with her mouth—making him groan with excitement and need. From there, it was all teasing and nipping, grinding and moaning.

Stephanie rode him cowgirl style, squeezing her nipples as she did it, pretending that she was having the time of her life. When she finally pretended to come, she bucked her hips and threw back her head, making sure she shouted loud enough to make it believable, but not too loud to be over the top. When he fell back against the headboard, slack and slick with sweat, she smiled.

Mission accomplished,
she thought.

 

Stephanie rolled onto her stomach and raised her wineglass to her lips, savoring the taste of the last bit of sauvignon blanc on her tongue. The handcuffs still dangled from one of the bedposts. Their clothes still littered the carpeted floor. She watched as Isaac slowly rose from the bed and enjoyed the view of his muscular backside in the orange glow of her desk lamp as he walked across the room and picked up his gray boxer briefs.

“Thank you for my gift,” she murmured lazily, sitting her glass on her night table, “if I haven't said thank you already.”

“You didn't have to say it.” He tugged on his underwear. “You
showed
me how thankful you were—repeatedly.”

She rose to her elbows and smirked. “And you liked every minute of it.”

“You damn right I did.”

He walked toward the bed and slapped her ass before leaning down to kiss her hungrily. She raised herself to meet his lips, putting all her charms into the kiss. For a split second, it seemed as if the kiss would deepen and Isaac would tug off the boxers he had just put on, but abruptly, he pulled his mouth away.

“Can't start that,” he muttered, licking his lips. He wandered back to the other side of the bedroom, grabbed his white dress shirt, which had been tossed on a velvet settee in the corner, and put it on. “I'm sorry, but I've got to go.”

“
Awww,
already?” she asked, poking out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

“I'm afraid so, gorgeous.” He buttoned the last shirt button then grabbed his pants.

Stephanie crisscrossed her bare legs. “But how are you going to get home if you're leaving your Mercedes here?” She paused. “You
are
leaving the car here, aren't you?”

“Don't worry. I told you, the car is yours. I'll just catch a cab.”

Stephanie frowned. She felt her first pangs of guilt at those words. “Well, that doesn't seem right. Why don't you let me take a quick shower and get dressed? I could take you home.”

“I said don't worry about it, baby,” he assured, raising his zipper. “I've got it all covered.”

Stephanie sat upright. She shook her head, bemused as she watched Isaac dress. “Why are you in such a hurry, Isaac?”

“I'm not. Wild horses couldn't drag me away from your fine ass.” He was still smiling as he shrugged into his suit jacket. “Look, why don't we do this? Why don't we kiss each other good night and agree to meet up next week, say Thursday? We'll take a trip to one of the jewelers on Main Street and I'll let you pick out anything you want.”

Jewelers?
Stephanie instantly perked up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She cocked an eyebrow. “Anything I want?”

He nodded, raising his collar before tossing his silk tie around his neck. “Maybe even a gift of the solitaire diamond variety.”

Stephanie's eyes widened. She practically leaped the distance from the mattress to eight feet across the room where Isaac stood. “
A solitaire diamond?
Do you mean an engagement ring?” She stood naked in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Isaac, you better not be playing with me! This isn't a joke, is it?”

He knotted his tie. “No, it isn't a joke, baby.”

She grinned. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“What do you think?”

Less than two months,
Stephanie thought excitedly. This had to be a Gibbons family record. It was less than two months and she was already engaged!

Thank God he was dressed or she would have shoved him back onto the bed. Instead, she had to satisfy herself with wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a long, soulful kiss.

“Gotta go, gorgeous,” he murmured, prying her arms from around his neck and slapping her on the ass again.

“All right, honey.” She adjusted his tie and tapped the tip of his nose. “I guess we'll just have to save the rest for next week.”

Isaac kissed her hand, bidding her a gentlemanly farewell. He then turned and walked out of her bedroom, before giving a wink.

“See you Thursday,” he called before turning around and striding down the hallway.

“See you Thursday,” she sang after him.

When he shut her front door, she clasped her hands together and jumped up and down on the balls of her bare feet, barely able to contain her joy.

“I
have good news!” Stephanie exclaimed, tossing her linen napkin over her lap.

It was the day after Isaac's visit. She was in between scheduled showings, having a casual bistro lunch outside with her three sisters and enjoying the spring day. She had driven her new Mercedes roadster with the top down on the way there, basking in the warm sunshine and her good fortune. She had become engaged, gotten a new car, and made a bundle of money under Isaac's financial guidance, all in one week. She wanted to share the news with the world, but for now, she would settle for gloating to her sisters.

“Good news, huh?” Her eldest sister, Cynthia, drolly rolled her hazel eyes and sipped from her glass of raspberry iced tea. “Let me guess. Neiman Marcus is having a sale?”

Her second oldest sister, Dawn, giggled between chews of chicken, pesto, and sun-dried tomatoes. She pushed her tinted sunglasses to the crown of her head, revealing her comely ebony-hued face. “No, no! Her boyfriend broke down and bought her those python Prada pumps she's been obsessing over for the past month.” Dawn turned to Stephanie and tilted her head, sending her jet black, glossy bob swinging. “We hope you and your shoes are very happy together, Steph,” she said patronizingly, patting Stephanie's bare arm.

Their table erupted into laughter. Stephanie narrowed her eyes in response.

Her sisters were laughing now, but they wouldn't be in a few minutes. In fact, they probably would be speechless, gnashing their teeth and green with envy—even greener than Stephanie's silk emerald halter dress—when she told them that Isaac had proposed.

The only one who wouldn't be jealous was Lauren. The youngest of all the sisters had already married her millionaire—the entrepreneur and ex-football star Crisanto Weaver—nearly four months ago in a small private ceremony at his mansion in Chesterton. Even more amazing, Lauren actually seemed to be in love with her husband.

Well, I won't have love,
Stephanie conceded, but there were worse things. Money and a sense of security would do, and that was
exactly
what Isaac could provide for her.

“If you all are finished cackling,” Stephanie muttered, pushing what was left of her salmon around her plate with her fork, “can I share my good news now?”

Lauren grinned. “Go ahead, Steph. Tell us.”

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that . . .” Stephanie took a melodramatic pause. “. . . I'm
engaged!
”

The women around the table reacted simultaneously but in very different ways. Lauren's big doe-like eyes widened in surprise. Dawn gaped in shock, looking horrified. Cynthia's face settled into a grimace.

“
Really?
” Lauren's smile tightened as she cleared her throat. “Well . . . uh . . . congratulations, Steph.”

“How the hell are you engaged?” Dawn exclaimed. “Didn't you just meet him a little over a month ago?”

“So!” Stephanie said dismissively, waving her hand, sending her gold bangles jingling. “Less than two months is more than enough time to make a man fall in love with you . . . if you know what you're doing.”

Dawn opened her mouth to reply, but Lauren gave her a warning glance. Dawn pursed her lips and kept silent, though she didn't look too happy about it.

“So, umm, when did he pop the question?” Lauren asked.

“Last night! And it was
so
wonderful. He showed such style and class.”

Maybe she was exaggerating a little, but what did she care?

Stephanie clapped her hands and did a little dance in her chair, unable to contain her excitement.

“I'm engaged! I'm engaged!
I'm engaged!
And you all will be my bridesmaids—of course. Just like the last time I got married.”

Cynthia snorted. “
Humph,
I don't see a ring on your finger. I'll believe it when you show us the evidence. Until then, I'm not convinced.”

“I
am
engaged!” Stephanie argued, stomping her foot in frustration on the cobblestone sidewalk under their table. “He asked me! We're supposed to select the ring together at the jewelers next week!”

“Cynthia's just picking on you, Steph,” Lauren assured, placing a hand over Stephanie's and giving it a squeeze. “We know that you're engaged. We believe you. It's just a little . . . sudden that's all. It did happen a little fast. You have to admit that.”

“It's more than a little fast. You barely know the man!” Cynthia bellowed.

“You barely knew your first husband,” Stephanie countered, making Cynthia grit her teeth.

Dawn sighed. “She does have a point, Cindy.”

When Cynthia looked mad enough that steam would come out of her ears, Lauren intervened again, holding up her hands. “OK, OK, guys. There's no reason for us to start arguing. Stephanie just shared some good news. She's engaged. We should . . . We should be celebrating.”

Stephanie eyed her little sister. “Yeah, we
should
celebrate, Laurie! Good suggestion!” She waved down a waiter who was passing their table on his way back inside the restaurant. “Excuse me. Can you bring us a bottle of champagne?”

He walked toward their table. “Sure, which one would you like?”

Stephanie reached for the leather-bound wine menu and flipped it open. She scanned the list and grinned. “We'll have the Perrier-Jouët.”

“Will do,” he said with a nod before turning around to get them a bottle.

“Oh, and bring four champagne glasses!” she called after him.

“Only three!” Lauren said.

The waiter nodded before disappearing behind the restaurant's front door.

“
Only three?”
Stephanie asked. “You aren't having any?”

Lauren shook her head. “No, my sparkling water is fine. I have to get back to the restaurant in a half an hour. I don't want to be tipsy with a butcher knife in my hand.”

“Tipsy? But it's just
one
glass, Laurie! I know you're a lightweight,” Stephanie said, alluding to her baby sister's petite size, “but you're not
that
light! Come on, have a drink with us. I'm paying! In fact, I'll cover the whole lunch!” She winked. “I've got extra cash now thanks to Isaac.”

“No, really, it's ok.”

“Oh, come on!
You
were the one who said we should be celebrating,” Cynthia argued. “Just drink the damn glass of champagne, girl. It won't kill you!”

Lauren's smile withered. “I know it won't kill me, but I . . .”

“But
what?
” Stephanie asked.

Lauren glanced hesitantly at her sisters. She took a deep breath. “I'm pregnant,” she suddenly blurted out.

“
What?
” they all cried in unison.

“I'm pregnant. That's why I don't want any champagne. The doc said I shouldn't drink anymore.”

They started shouting questions then:
Why didn't you say anything? When did you find out? Have you told Cris yet? Does Mama know?

For the first time, all of the sisters were smiling.

“No, I haven't told Mama yet,” Lauren said. “I hadn't told anyone but Cris—until now. It's just I wanted to wait a week or so to officially get to the end of the first trimester before I shared the news. But, oh, well,” she said with a laugh and a shrug, “so much for those plans.”

“Oh, we haven't had a little one in the family in
so long!
” Dawn exclaimed, clapping her hands. “A baby! It's so exciting!”

Cynthia chuckled. “We haven't had any little ones, because you haven't given birth to any little ones. I've done my part.” She pointed around the table. “It's the rest of you that keep dragging your feet when it comes to having babies.”

“Well, not anymore,” Stephanie announced. “Now Laurie has one on the way,” she said, patting her sister's flat belly, making Lauren laugh. “And maybe I'll be next in line.”

 

The rest of the lunch was filled with conversations about babies and weddings—well, mostly Stephanie talking about weddings and her sisters listening as she talked. When the check finally arrived, Stephanie instantly reached for it.

“Steph,” Lauren said, “you don't have to pay for lunch. We can all chip in.”

“Yes, I do,” Stephanie insisted, tucking her debit card into the leather pocket. “I said I would. I told you I'm
flush
with cash now. It's no big deal.”

“Hell, let her pay,” Cynthia urged as Stephanie handed the bill and her card to the waiter. “It's her money.”

Stephanie put on her sunglasses and grinned. “Thirty-percent return on investment,” she said. “That's like . . . unheard of! I swear Isaac is a genius. He's like one of those supercomputers that tell you which stocks to pick. Cris should talk to him. He could take Cris from a millionaire to a
billionaire
, Laurie!”

“I don't know.” Lauren pursed her lips. “Cris has used the same investment advisor for years. He said he's wary of using someone he doesn't really know. He told me quite a few guys in the NFL got burned by advisors who swore they could make them bundles of money, but they turned out to not have a clue what they were doing. And that was in the best-case scenario. Many of those guys turned out to be pretty much conmen.”

“But he
knows
Isaac,” Stephanie argued. “Or at least he will. I'll make sure of that. They'll practically be related a few months from now when Isaac and I are married. They should talk!”

Lauren seemed to contemplate her sister's words. After some seconds, she shrugged. “Maybe. We'll see.”

“No ‘maybe,' ” Stephanie urged, shaking her head. “He shouldn't let this opportunity get away! I swear to you, Isaac is—”

She was interrupted by the waiter who loudly cleared his throat. He hovered over her shoulder, near their restaurant table. Stephanie turned to stare up at him.

“Uh, ma'am, your card was declined. Would you like to use another one to pay for your meal?”

Stephanie pushed her gold-tinted sunglasses to the crown of her head. “
Declined?
” she asked, squinting up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure,” the waiter said, nodding his blond head. “I ran it several times. I kept getting back ‘insufficient funds.' I'd be happy to run another card though.”

He then handed the debit card back to Stephanie. The table fell silent.

“Uh, why don't you use my card?” Lauren piped, pulling her wallet from her handbag, opening it, and handing her credit card to the waiter. “That should cover it. Sorry for the trouble.”

“No problem at all,” the waiter said.

As he walked away with Lauren's card, Stephanie gazed at the card in her hand, transfixed.

“Maybe you just did a big charge and forgot,” Dawn volunteered.

“Or knowing you, Steph, forgot to pay the damn bill,” Cynthia said with a smirk. “Once you pay it, they should unfreeze the account.”

Stephanie slowly shook her head, still staring down at the plastic in her hand. “No, this is my
debit
card, not one of my credit cards. It's connected to my checking account. I should have more than eighteen thousand dollars in there!”

“Then it was a mistake,” Lauren reassured. “After lunch, just go to the bank and check it out. I'm sure there's some explanation.”

Stephanie nodded. Lauren was right. It had to be a mistake. She sipped from her water glass, deciding to worry about it later.