Page 9 of Kiss Me

“Who the hell would even believe you?”

Damn, I really do like the way her voice sounds when she’s pissed. Probably says a lot about me.

“No one,” I admit. “Until I show them pictures of you walking around without a care in the world on a supposedly severely sprained ankle.”

Just so she knows I’m not fucking around, I pull out my cell phone and flip to the pictures of her walking through the woods toward the ski lift.

The crutch in her hand instead of under her armpit.

“I’m particularly a fan of this one as you, oh so gracefully, leap over a small stream to get to the lift.”

I obviously followed her for a while, as she took the much less crowded route to the lift.

I return my attention back to her.

“Oh, and I’ve got a video that has an even better close up of your face. You know, just so everyone knows it’s really you.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Yes,” I reply, unbothered. “Now,” I begin while I stuff my phone back into my pocket, “let’s start with the truth. Why are you lying about your ankle?”

There’s no real reason why I’m pressing so hard to know. I don’t need to know her reasoning in order to get what I want from her. I have the evidence right here in my pocket.

Yet, I feel compelled to press her for answers. I’ll chalk it up to the fact that she turned me down once already and I want to pack all of the ammunition I can get for my payback.

“Oh,” Tania says in surprise as the ski lift suddenly jerks forward before it begins moving smoothly as if nothing happened.

I check my watch and frown. The fucker I paid to stop this thing for fifteen minutes is five minutes early.

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter.

“What did you call me?”

“Wasn’t talking about you, Ginger,” I reply.

Her frown deepens, and I intently watch the subtle and not so subtle movement of her lips.

“Now, are you going to answer my question?”

“No.” She looks straight ahead as if she’s about to ignore me.

I don’t fucking think so.

“Then I guess as soon as I get off this lift, I’m going straight to my favorite social media site to upload these photos.”

She not only ignores me, but she turns her entire body away from me, giving me a big silent “Fuck you.”

“Have it your way then.”

A second later the lift slows to a glacial pace, allowing us to easily depart our seats. I watch for a beat as Tania carefully dismounts from her seat, with her crutch, and then hobbles in the opposite direction of me.

She’s still playing the bullshit role of the injured athlete.

Fine. Tania isn’t the only one who can bullshit with the best of them.

“Hey, Frank, is theGazettestill looking for a scoop on the athletes for the X Games?” I say loud enough for her to hear.

“Yeah, I might have just spotted an athlete faking an injury.”

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