The Kissing Game by Marie Turner Read Free Book Online

Some
other time,” he tells me. Then he points at me. “Have a good one then, and lay
off that boozing. Wouldn’t want anyone to take advantage of you, would you?” He
smiles while I squint at him. The rain hisses overhead.
    “No, I don’t think I would.”
    As I cross the grassy patch to the sidewalk, I pull up the hood of
my raincoat and hustle.
    After disembarking the train downtown, I find the streets a
torrent. Silvery fragments saw through the air in front of me, throwing water
that tastes like iron onto my lips. When I reach the elevator, I’m alone.
Inside I shudder up to the 22 nd floor. Cory’s floor. He always
arrives early, and I desperately need someone to talk to. The thought of facing
Robert today is slowly growing inside of me like one of those demon babies in a
scary movie, or like that movie where the alien that pops out of that guys
stomach while he’s eating spaghetti.
    Exiting the elevator, I pass blackened offices, one after the
other, until I cross the threshold of the Technology Department of our firm.
There, I find Cory’s light shining underneath his door. Two knocks and I burst
into his office.
    “Well, good morning, my little pumpkin. How can I help you?”he
says without looking at me. Apparently he sees my reflection in his office
window. He’s wearing a green and black tie-dye shirt and slim black jeans. (See
what I mean about his fashion sense?) His dark hair, long for a guy, looks as soft
and curly as a toddler’s. He swivels around in his office chair and smiles at
me as if he’s hiding great boulders of gold behind him. In his right hand, he
cradles a steaming cup of tea.
    My mouth opens, but I think to myself that there’s no way Cory could
have put together a tape from the security footage already. Not this soon.
Could he?
    “You didn’t already , did you?” I scowl at him with what
must look like an expression of disbelief.
    “You have no idea,” he says wiggling his fingers, “what these
hands are capable of. It’s like I don’t even have to try. Plus, you forget, my
dear, that I see all and know all.” Then he swivels back around to face his
computer screen and places his tea on his desk. Pulling out the keyboard, he lets
his fingers slope across it like a musician. While the screen zooms to life, he
waltzes past me and kicks his office door closed. Resuming his seat, he doesn’t
bother watching the tape begin to play on his computer. Instead, he just
watches my face for a reaction.
    “I should get an academy award for my editing skills,” he says,
exhaling. “I don’t know why I bother keeping this stupid job. Such a waste of my
talent. I should be working in Hollywood. In front of the camera, behind the
camera, either one.”
    I’m hardly listening to him because I see myself on his screen.
I’m wearing the red dress and kissing Robert. Somehow Cory has edited the tape
so that the camera doesn’t catch me instigating the kiss. Robert appears to be
the instigator. He’s pushing me into the elevator wall. On the grainy footage,
filaments of light hit Robert’s face, and a slight smile haunts his lips.
Because of the overhead angle of the security camera, his hair looks darker,
almost pitch black. When my hands go to his neck, his suit jacket quivers. Must
be the Xanax, I think. He looks a foot taller than I am on the tape, but he
couldn’t be. Watching the spectacle makes me feel like a voyeur, a slut, a
criminal—all rolled into one. My empty stomach feels as though it’s shouting at
me. My hand covers my mouth.
    And then the tape ends. It’s only a matter of seconds. Cory
obviously edited out the elevator doors opening.
    “Jeezus,” I say.
    “I know, right?” Cory responds. “You might be deserving of an
academy award, too. I’ll call you Jessica Chastain from now on—what with the
red hair and the Oscar-worthy performance.” Cory looks devilishly pleased with
himself. Taking his breakfast bar out of the wrapper, he pulls off a chunk