Cheating at Solitaire Read Online Free Page B

restaurant's awning, a cool, wet wind slapped her across the face. Rain pelted the sidewalks, and pedestrians darted past like darkened blurs with newspapers and briefcases held overhead.
    Definitely not people-watching weather. On the street, traffic crawled, so Julia shivered beneath the awning, remembering that sudden thunderstorms always produced a shortage of taxis in Manhattan, while dry weather led to a bumper crop—the very opposite of rain's effect in Oklahoma. Shivering, she considered going back inside to finish her meal when she glanced behind her and noticed she was sharing the shelter of the awning with the same man who, moments before, had shared her table. An awkward pang flashed in Julia's gut, but the rain grew harder, and she wasn't eager to brave the weather and walk away.
    Do I know him? Julia found herself wondering. He didn't seem like someone who worked in publishing, and she hadn't exactly been a social butterfly during the years she lived in Manhattan, but she couldn't shake the sense that she'd seen him somewhere before—maybe on a Wheaties box. Tall and strong, with sharp, gray eyes and broad shoulders, he had a clean-scrubbed, fresh-faced, Al -American Quarterback way about him. She saw him cross his arms—
    strong, agile, hunky arms—and she thought she might be right, but then he caught her staring, so with the customary grace of every gangly girl who has ever been caught staring at the captain of the football team, Julia jerked her eyes back to the street. Where's a bathroom to hide in when you need one?
    When at last a cab did pull to the curb, they both stood awkwardly for a second before she nodded at him and said, "It's yours."
    "No," he said, shaking his head. "Take it."
    "Really," Julia said and gestured toward the waiting car. She gave him her best "I'm an independent woman who appreciates the gesture but is happy to decline" nod, but the young man took her arm and led her out into the rain, opened the cab door, and once she was inside, closed it behind her.
    Julia suddenly felt out of her element. "Where to?" she heard the cabbie say, but her eyes never left the man who had turned up the collar of his jacket and was lumbering down Seventy-fifth Street, a dark silhouette in the gray shower. "Lady," the driver said impatiently, drawing her back to the task at hand, "where are we going?"

    "FAO Schwarz," she told him, and they pulled away from the curb.
    They drove slowly, trying to meld back into the heavy traffic, so the pace of the cab matched the pace of the young man who hunkered against the wet wind. It looks really cold out there, she thought. Pneumonia weather. A shower of guilt washed over her. It violated her every feminist notion to take the only available taxi in New York when it was pouring rain. Plus, her mother would have told her it was rude. She cracked the window and yelled, "Stop!" When the cab halted, she cracked the window wider and yelled to the dark, wet figure on the sidewalk by the car. "Hey, come on. Stop."
    He looked at her, and Julia no longer saw a cocky quarterback who was concentrating on the big game. Maybe it was the way the rain ran through his hair and streaked across his face, or maybe it was the way he slouched, hands in pockets, as if the weather was the least of his problems, but Julia said, "Come on, share it with me."
    Lance looked up at clouds and reached down to open the door. As they pulled into traffic and disappeared down Seventy-fifth Street, Richard Stone bolted from Stella's, climbed into a chauffeured Town Car, and yelled, "Follow that cab," as if he'd been waiting his entire life to say it.

Chapter Three
    WAY #22: Be careful with your money.
    Having a single household almost always translates into having a single income. For some people, making sound financial decisions comes natural y. For others, it's a chal enge. Know your economic thresholds and take responsibility for living within your means.
    —from 101 Ways to Cheat at