Read Online Crosscut by Meg Gardiner - Free Book Online Page A

“That’s where you come in.”
    I blinked. Despite myself, I felt flattered. “Really?”
    “Of course. I wouldn’t do this book without my cousin.”
    Me, model lingerie? A giggle formed at the back of my throat. A silly, thrilled giggle.
    Taylor gesticulated, saying she had to schedule the photo shoots and write the commentary to go with the pictures. She wondered about scheduling—how long did it take to write a book, a couple months?
    “Count on six months to a year,” I said.
    No, this was stupid. Me, getting my photo taken in sexy underwear? Dazzling Delicates underwear? The idea was ludicrous.
    Black, I’d wear something black. Tight and leather. And I’d throw on sunglasses like Trinity in The Matrix . And boots—Jesse would dig that. Thigh boots. Man, would he.
    “A year? Honey, I can dictate a page in ten minutes, sending sales forecasts to Countess Zara headquarters. A book can’t take that long. You sure?”
    “Positive.”
    I’d better buy some fake tan. And hit the gym. Tonight. Wow, Taylor really did know how to make women feel exquisite.
    She patted my shoulder. “But I know I can count on you. I mean, who else can do the proofreading?”
    My helium head felt a pinprick. “Proofreading.”
    “I need your expertise with adjectives. Fonts, too. And punctuation—I bet you’re a demon with exclamation points.”
    I fizzled. “Don’t forget apostrophes. I’m lethal with those.”
    “Aw. Hon, did you think I meant a photo spread? You live in hope, don’t you.”
    I counted to three. Picking up Suzie Sizemore, I pulled the plug between her shoulder blades. She whistled and began deflating. Taylor squeaked and reached for her. I folded her in half and squeezed.
    “Evan, she doesn’t like that.”
    “Pack it up. I don’t care if your husband has Francis of Assisi visiting for the weekend. The bathroom guys will be back tomorrow and I want this stuff out of here.”
    “But I need to talk to you about that. I was chatting with them and I found the things you’d emptied out of the medicine cabinet.”
    “What? Taylor, don’t tell me you nosed through it.”
    She pointed at the cardboard box by the television. When I left for the weekend, it had been in my closet. I felt queasy. She reached in, pulling out makeup, aspirin, and . . .
    “Oh, my God,” I said.
    ... my birth-control pills.
    She tapped her fingernails against them. “The thing I noticed? This pack is six months old and hasn’t even been opened.” She bit her lip and frowned at me. “Darlin’, you going natural?”
     
My light-headedness morphed into a floating sensation, as if I were rising toward the ceiling. I grabbed the pills from Taylor, dumped bathroom stuff out of the cardboard box, and began stuffing it with jockstraps and sex toys. Taylor told me to calm down. She understood if my biological clock was ticking like a nuclear bomb. I shoved Suzie Sizemore into the box with her crotch wrapped around her neck. Taylor said, “How rude,” and I shot back that Suzie looked more surprised than offended, what with her mouth open in that big round O. Taylor tapped her foot. “Well,” she said, “sounds like somebody’s feeling frustrated .” Did Jesse need to buy me some Weekend Fireworks? At which point I may have hissed at her, because she drew her arms up against her chest and jumped back from me. I think I was having an out-of-body experience.
    I jammed the box into her hands, pushed her outside, slammed and locked the door. She stood on the path, calling through the glass. She understood that I had needs. She could help. That was what Dazzling Delicates was about—helping those in need. I closed the shutters. “Don’t suffer with unmet needs,” she shouted. “It’s unhealthy. You could develop a tic.”
    I walked to my bedroom, shut the door, and flopped onto the bed.
    This news would be all over the family within hours. That meant my aunts, cousins, Uncle Benny the priest, and my mother. I covered my