Installation 13: Corey Hearts Corey previous
Immediately following the meeting to discuss marketing and promotion for Ride the Snake, Phillip went to his office to fortify himself with a quick shot of scotch. He banged through the office door, plowing into Meredith as she filed slides.
“What the hell are you doing standing there?” he bellowed.
“Filing slides,” Meredith said. “Am I not supposed to file slides?”
“Of course you are,” Phillip said, scratching his head. “But not there. Not when I’m trying to get through.”
Meredith looked at him, confused.
“I’m trying to get through,” Phillip said and coughed. He really did want to get to that scotch.
Meredith went to her desk and sat down. She started sniffing, which was her way of keeping from crying. Phillip went about his business, going into his office and shutting the door. Meredith heard the file drawer where Phillip kept his stash of booze rattle open and slam shut. There was the sound of swirling liquid and then silence.
“My God!” Phillip suddenly yelled. “Stop sniffing!”
“I can’t help it,” Meredith mumbled and checked her e-mail. There were no new messages.
Phillip came tumbling out of his office and slammed the door shut behind him.
“I’m going out,” he said. “To a meeting. That will last a very long time.”
“OK,” Meredith said. She had a hard time making eye contact.
“When I come back,” Phillip said, carefully enunciating each word. “You can try to be less annoying and simpering.”
Phillip went over to the Development Office. He stood in the hallway, looked through the open door and gestured until he caught Karrie’s attention.
“Psssst…” he whispered. “Can Karrie come out to play?”
Karrie giggled.
“Come on,” Phillip said. “I’m serious. What time is lunch?”
“Hold on a second,” Karrie said. She disappeared into an inner office. There was the sound of low voices, then she came back, forwarded her phone to voice mail and shut off her desk lamp.
“What’s up?” she asked as she stepped into the hall.
“Nothing is up,” Phillip said, putting on his leather gloves. “I thought we’d go out on the town for awhile. Baxter’s perhaps?”
Baxter's was a dive three blocks from the museum that served a lunch of fried cheese nuggets and loose pork sandwiches. Its main attraction was an oversize plastic mug of beer for $2.00.
“Phil, I’m totally hung over,” Karrie said.
“What a surprise,” Phillip said and smiled, looking ghoulish. “Does that mean you’re not going to Baxter’s with me?”
“Well, I was wondering if we could go somewhere with good food for once,” Karrie said. “All this bar food is making my pants tight.”
Phillip hustled her along the hallway, stopping when they came to an alcove set up to hide a drinking fountain and pushing her into it.
“I like your pants tight,” Phillip said and gave her a sour kiss. “Come on, I don’t want to go alone and I’ve had a real shit morning.”
“OK, I’ll go. See, I’m putting on my coat,” Karrie said.
At 3:00, Phoebe was on her way to the staff lounge when she rounded a corner and saw Phillip Mantou and Karrie Thompson shuffling along the hallway. Actually, Phillip was the one shuffling while Karrie floundered about, one second hugging the wall and the next stumbling into the middle of the passageway. Phillip put one arm around her shoulders and used the other to pull her up by her coat sleeve.
“Shit,” Karrie said. “I can’t… fuck… fuck… fuck!” She started to laugh uncontrollably.
“Get up,” Phillip hissed. “You’re back in the museum now. Look lively.”
“I can’t be here,” Karrie whined. “This place is bullshit.”
As Phoebe passed by, she made a point of looking straight ahead as if Phillip and Karrie were invisible.
“She’ll be OK,” Phillip explained to Phoebe’s profile. “A little too much wine at the Ancient Greek Society luncheon.”
Phoebe smiled at Phillip. He was bright red, his eyes like glass.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Karrie asked.
“Nothing,” Phoebe said.
She quickened her pace to the staff lounge. There, she set about making a cup of tea. She heard someone come in behind her and turned to see Corey Reeves from Special Projects standing in front of the soda machine. She wore suede boots that came up past her knees and a cashmere sweater. As usual, her hair was perfect. Phoebe turned back around.
“They’re pretty rocked, huh?” Corey said.
“I guess so,” Phoebe said and shrugged to show that she had no official opinion on drunk staff members.
“They’re totally doing it,” Corey said. “Isn’t that disgusting?” Corey selected Diet Coke and crouched down to pick it up from the slot at the bottom of the machine. She popped it open and took a long drink while watching Phoebe.
“I don’t think it's any of my business,” Phoebe said.
“Has James asked you out yet?”
“I don’t even know James.”
“In general, I think it's OK for co-workers to date,” Corey said and motioned towards a table, indicating she wanted Phoebe to sit down with her.
Phoebe obeyed.
“In fact, I have a little crush of my own,” Corey said and pushed her gorgeous hair over her shoulder.
“What kind of sweater is that? DKNY?” Phoebe asked. She looked out the door towards the hallway, wondering if someone might come in for coffee and save her. Corey made her nervous.
“I have to tell someone about this,” Corey said. “Because it's driving me insane. I sit at my desk and get no work done because all I do is think about Corey.”
Phoebe paused. Had Corey just started to talk about herself in the third person?
“I think about him and try to decide what to do,” Corey continued. “But ultimately, there’s nothing to do. He has a fiancé.”
Phoebe suddenly realized Corey was talking about Corey Feldman, the Director of Corporate Giving. The guy who had appeared on The Apprentice.
“Well,” Phoebe said. “Everyone was really into him right after he was on TV. I think it might be because of our modern day obsession with fame.”
“No,” Corey said. “I love him.”
“But you can’t love him. You have the same first name,” Phoebe said. “That would never work.”
“Why not?”
“Well, what if you got married and took his last name? You’d have the same first and last name.”
“So?”
“That seems like a big headache to me,” Phoebe said. “And kind of… gross.”
“Not to me,” Corey said. She looked upset.
“It’s not as if it matters anyway,” Phoebe said. “He’s getting married.”
“But not for, like, another six months or something,” Corey said. “There’s still time.”
“That’s not a fair thing to do.”
“I’ve done it before,” Corey said and Phoebe had no doubt that Corey had broken apart many relationships and destroyed marriages. And yet she looked like a golden angel sitting in a tiny patch of sunlight, breezily sipping her Diet Coke.
“I should get back to my desk,” Phoebe said.
“Yeah, me too,” Corey said. “You know, we should totally hang out sometime.”
“Sure,” Phoebe said. “Call me. Or stop by my office.”
Phoebe walked back along the corridor that led from the staff lounge to the Marketing & Public Relations suite. Out of curiosity and a sense that maybe she was missing something obvious, she took a right where she usually went left and headed towards the Development Department. Karrie was sprawled at her desk, face in her hands. From somewhere within the suite Phoebe heard a booming laugh and then Corey Feldman walked through the office. He had the hair of a newscaster and a head shaped like a block. He wore an expensive suit Phoebe recognized from his fatal trip to the boardroom. Corey walked to the water cooler and filled a mug, ignoring Karrie’s collapsed form.
“I learned this from Trump,” he said to whomever was in the back part of the office. “Stay hydrated and you’re ready for anything.
Phoebe turned on her heel and headed back to her office, shaking her head.