The Hinky Bearskin Rug

by Jennifer Stevenson

  “You didn’t know?”

  “I don’t know it now.”

  Jewel nodded. “I wasn’t sure. So I brought you these.” She tossed a thick wad of photocopies across the desk, the results of Clay’s research.

  With a suspicious look at Jewel, Maida picked them up and glanced through them. The bandaid was gone from her hand. Only a faint white mark showed where the bitch had bit her.

  “Note the signatures,” Jewel said.

  Slowly Maida stood up, as if she didn’t realize she was rising out of her seat. She stared, riffling through the packet. “I signed these,” she said in a hollow voice.

  “Yup.”

  “He said — he said they were for bonds and securities for Lena. He’d stop me before I could read them.” Her thin lips got thinner. “He did it more and more, the last few years.” She flipped through the papers again. “These were notarized by someone outside the company!”

  “He was making you titular owner of the company and filing for Women’s Business Enterprise certification with the city and the county, so Baysdorter Boncil could get government contracts.”

  Maida looked up. Jewel recoiled from the blaze in her eyes. “Hugh Boncil must have known,” she hissed.

  Hairs prickled on the back of Jewel’s neck.

  Maida whispered, “I see,” not to Jewel. She seemed to swell up and grow solid in her flimsy little body. Jewel was impressed. Maybe all she needed was some real clout. Not just sleeping-with-the-boss clout.

  Jewel hated to give Maida the benefit of the doubt, but she suggested, “So if you want to kick someone’s ass up around his neck like a collar, it would appear you are in a position to do so.”

  Maida was nodding, again not to Jewel.

  Alarmed at the fire in those cold blue eyes, Jewel got up and walked out. If she kills him in the workplace, I might almost feel guilty.

  o0o

  “Jewel? Lena Sacker.”

  Jewel was driving home from Baysdorter Boncil. She felt tired and fragile and fed up. “I can’t talk now, I’m driving.”

  “Don’t talk, listen. I’m going to Baysdorter Boncil tomorrow to get into Steven’s files.”

  Jewel’s eyes widened. “If you’re planning to break the law, don’t tell me.”

  “It’s legit. I’ll be his office temp for the day.”

  “Uh, still iffy. I can’t solicit an illegal act from an informant.”

  “I’m not asking your permission. I’m just informing you. What’s your E-mail?”

  This could be useful, if neither of them flubbed it. Jewel spoke carefully. “You can forward legally obtained evidence to me at farmgirl@brusilosis.com.” She spelled it.

  “Weird E-mail, girlfriend.”

  “I don’t get a lot of spam.”

  “You will tomorrow. Don’t delete it till you look. By three o’clock at the latest.”

  Lena hung up, presumably to go home to sleep with Jewel’s ex-boyfriend, and Jewel thumbed speed dial.

  “Ask Your Shrink, you’re on the air, caller.”

  “Hi, this is Emerald again,” Jewel said. “I think I may have a, a social disease and I don’t know what to do.” She was still shaken by her hink-o-weird moment with Clay. Could she have caught it from Randy? “A hinky social disease.”

  “Now, Emerald, you know what to do. First, you abstain from relations with anyone else.”

  No problem there. She’d probably never have normal sex with anyone ever again. “Of course.”

  “Then you go to your gynecologist and get checked out.”

  “Checked out, check.”

  “Then, if you test positive, you contact all your recent sex partners and let them know. It’s the only decent thing to do.”

  Jewel groaned. “I know, I know.”

  “Next, you make an appointment with a psychiatrist and ask him to test you for grandiose fantasies. Would you like me to spell that?”

  “What!?”

  “Have you been dumped recently, Emerald? It’s very common for people who are suffering from a broken heart to overdramatize their condition. What seems hinky to you is in fact a hormonal condition that has been documented back to the Middle Ages. Treatment is much easier now, of course.” Your Shrink’s voice stopped sounding sympathetic and took on her lecturing-the-public tone. “Victims of love sickness reported hinky emotional sufferings as long ago as the time of the Holy Roman Emperors—”

  Jewel hung up. She glanced at the grocery bag with the bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream and half-gallon of chocolate ice cream beside her. What she needed was mudslide therapy.

  o0o

  She spent the evening at home alone again. She made a pitcher of mudslides and a bowl of egg-drop-ramen soup and holed up in front of the TV, pretending she wasn’t jittering to pieces.

  Now that she couldn’t have it, she felt an irrational yearning for plain old sex.

  Poor Clay. He’d been as freaked out as she was.

  She wondered if Clay was worried that he could catch hinky sex from her. Ugh. Thank God she hadn’t fucked anybody but Clay since she took up with Randy. That would make for an interesting confession. Hi, I bet you’re wondering why I called.

  Ugh, ugh.

  No point in panicking before she had some facts. No doctor would be able to diagnose her problem. So I’d better ask Randy what he thinks.

  Breathing deeply, blushing fiercely, trying to pretend she wasn’t making a lame excuse to call him, she opened her phone.

  “C’mon, pick up, you’re not supposed to go anywhere without your cell.” Her heart was thumping louder than the ringing in her ear.

  “Yes?” Randy’s voice said. Her chest tightened.

  “Hi, um, am I interrupting you at work?”

  “Not at the moment.” Randy sounded anything but pleased to hear her voice. His tone cut her like a razor.

  “Um, I had a question for you.”

  Silence. A woman’s voice came from somewhere on Randy’s end, in the same room. He must be at her place. Velvita’s.

  Jewel’s temperature fell ten degrees and her pulse skyrocketed. Her insides felt cold and icky and hot. “Look, if this is a bad time, I can call later.”

  “Tell me what you need.” He was so brusque. Never before had he showed her anything but patience. He probably thought of it as subservience.

  How to phrase this? Did you give me the hinky-sex disease?

  Velvita’s voice came even closer, saying “—glass of wine?”

  “Jewel?” he said more softly.

  She swallowed. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding.”

  “Jewel,” he said more gently. “Should we not give this a chance to work?”

  “You and Velvita?”

  “You and Clay.”

  She couldn’t breathe. “I’m with Clay because you don’t need me any more.” She waited for him to say, I’ll always need you. He didn’t. He said nothing. Her chest squeezed tighter as she pressed the phone to her ear, listening to silence.

  Okay, time for the hard question.

  “Did you—” There was no nice way to ask. Through buzzing in her ears she said, “Did you give me a hinky STD?”

  “What is an STD?”

  She said through her teeth, “A sexually transmitted disease.”

  “Should you not be asking Clay that question?”

  Her eyes flared. “Why?” she demanded. “Did he tell you he had something?”

  “Surely Clay would tell you before he would tell me,” he said smoothly. That female voice murmured, and, away from the phone, he said, “Thank you.”

  In rage and pain, Jewel snarled, “At least Clay will talk to me!” Which she knew was a lie. I’m acting like such a girl!

  “Will he?” Randy said noncommittally.

  “Don’t duck the question!”

  But Randy said nothing.

  Oh, hell, more antler-clashing. Her heart hammered in her ears. “Well?”

  Silence.

  “Stop putting me in the mi
ddle like this!” she cried. Her breath caught on a sob. “You’re making me crazy!”

  He groaned. “It’s folly to try to talk through these infernal machines.”

  “You’re the one who won’t even talk to me!” she yelled. “I’m freaking out here! If you were in trouble, I’d give a shit, but when I call you with a problem, where are you?”

  But he didn’t answer.

  The phone made a thwap noise in her ear.

  She heard footsteps, and then a woman’s voice. Velvita.

  “Hello? Is that Jewel?” Velvita sounded upset. “Oh my God. He warned me this would happen. Oh, no!”

  “What would happen?” Jewel said, but she knew.

  “You have to get over here. His clothes are on the floor, empty. I think he — he must have disappeared into my bed.”

  Jewel’s cup overflowed. “Oh, did he? Into your bed? Well, you’d better make sure you get your eight hours.” Her self-control shattered. Her voice rose. “In fact, I suggest you plan for twelve, because he’s gonna keep you busy for at least four hours every single night! For the rest of your life!”

  She slapped the phone down on the table and burst into tears.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Tuesday, Clay came to Jewel’s apartment to walk her to work and found with relief that she was no longer hysterical.

  Instead she knifed him with an apology. “Listen, I’m sorry about the other night. I totally lost it. It’s not your fault if I’m—” She didn’t finish the sentence.

  “Sh, sh, it’s okay.” He was terrified she would ask him a direct question. Then he might blurt out a confession, and she’d kill him.

  She seemed to sense his awkwardness. She made him coffee and left him with a cloud of guilt.

  While she was in the shower, her apartment phone rang. Clay picked it up.

  “Jewel? Lena.” Lena was whispering.

  “No, this is Clay Dawes.”

  “Tell her I’m in.”

  “I’ll tell her you’re in,” Clay said obediently. Girl secrets.

  “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

  “Really. That’s nice of you.”

  “You have to talk to her. Make her see reason. I don’t believe she can read that letter and not melt. Randy’s a nice guy and all that, and way hot in bed, but I don’t need to have sex all day and all night, know what I mean? She doesn’t really mean to condemn him to slavery in my bed for the rest of whatever, does she?”

  “Randy’s in your bed?”

  “She didn’t tell you? It happened when they were on the phone last night. Just make her read the letter. She’ll do the right thing if she reads it.”

  “Wait, wait, what letter?”

  “I dropped it off last night. The guard put it in her mailbox. Make her read it. I know she’s a decent person.”

  Clay made soothing noises until he was pretty sure Lena wouldn’t call back. Then he hung up.

  “Clay? Who’s on the phone?” Jewel, in the bathroom.

  “Phone solicitor,” he called back.

  What letter?

  Clay went to the hall for Jewel’s keys and raced downstairs to the mail room. In five seconds he had found Randy’s letter. Hand-addressed envelope, in a script so flowing and perfect that it looked like junk mail from an underwear company, except for Randy’s full name and title on the return address. There was a stamp on it, but it hadn’t been cancelled.

  He couldn’t believe his luck.

  Trousering it, he ran back upstairs and sat on the couch just as Jewel came out of the back hallway, dragging a brush through her wet hair.

  He decided to take a risk. “Velvita called, too. You didn’t mention that Randy got stuck in her bed.”

  “Nope.”

  “None of my business?”

  “That’s right.” She tied her hair back in a ponytail. “I didn’t think you would care. Do you care?”

  “I thought the curse was broken. I really did,” he said, feeling guilty, which hardly ever happened to him, and now it was for something that wasn’t even his fault.

  It isn’t, Wilma said in his head. But don’t worry.

  Soberly Jewel said, “There’s nothing you can do. I’m beginning to think there’s nothing either of us can do.”

  You know you never had a chance with Jewel until she and Randy both thought his curse was broken, Wilma said.

  Shut up! he thought. This was such a pain, trying to talk to someone he couldn’t see, without moving his lips.

  “But it’s not broken!” he said aloud. Darnit, was he supposed to say that to Jewel or to Wilma? “The curse, I mean.”

  Don’t worry. She won’t go back to him. She’ll stay with you now.

  Jewel looked him in the eye. “I’m not going off to climb into bed with Randy.”

  “But you always save him,” he said numbly, like a dope.

  “Not this time.” Jewel’s chin trembled. When he didn’t speak, she said, “Put your arms around me?”

  He did. She put her arms around him, too, slowly and gently, and he lay his cheek against her hair, feeling unsettled.

  He wanted to say, But you’re the good guy, Jewel. I’m the bum who would just as soon let Randy rot.

  Well, shoot.

  If he had to drag her down to his level to win her, that was the way it had to be.

  o0o

  Maida’s long-lost daughter walked into the office for the second time in a week.

  Maida stood frozen at her desk. “What are you doing here?”

  Lena closed the door and sat down. She looked so adult in a black suit and skirt, with her hair in a french twist, that Maida felt a pang.

  “Hel-lo,” Lena pronounced in a sing-song voice. “I’m the temp the agency sent to work with Steven Tannyhill.”

  Oh, no, not this. “You’re messing around with that Heiss woman. Don’t. She’s a bungler.”

  “I’m not.”

  I can’t protect her when Steven is like this! “What are you up to?”

  “You know, I think I won’t tell you. Last time I came to you for help, you blew me off. Onika Tannyhill has been a better mother to me than you have, and she made me a porn queen.”

  Maida bit her lip. “She should be ashamed.”

  “You mean I should be ashamed? She doesn’t force me to put up with sexual advances from men I don’t like,” her daughter said, sounding like a snippy teenager.

  Inside, Maida groaned, but she didn’t soften her face. If only she had come home instead of to the office! “Steven won’t bother you again.”

  “You’re dreaming. He bothers me every time we meet. I see him at the Artistic Building pretty frequently, you know. He especially likes to watch us shooting movies. Don’t worry, he’s never recognized Velvita Fromage as Lena Sacker.”

  Lena’s hair was confined demurely at the base of her neck. Her white blouse was crisp, with a soft white silk tie under her chin. She looked fresh, sweet, intelligent.

  A memory flashed through Maida’s mind of that face painted like a whore’s in the one movie she’d had the stomach to look at. She shut her eyes.

  “Go home. Go back to that woman, or go home. Don’t let him find you here.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” Lena said in a hard voice. “I’ll only need to stay a day or two.”

  Maida’s eyes flew open. “What are you plotting?”

  Lena leaned forward and began to unbutton her blouse.

  Her mother shrank back in her chair. “Dear God, what—”

  Lena pulled her blouse open, and Maida saw the black box and the wire taped to her skin.

  Comprehension flooded Maida.

  Lena nodded. “That’s right. So stay out of the way, unless you want to go on record as siding with the bad guys.” She stood lithely and left, buttoning her blouse as she went.

  Maida put her elbow on the desk and shaded her eyes with her hand. “What am I going to do?” she said to her empty office.

  There was no question what she should do. If
that Heiss woman had told the truth —

  Maida slapped open the file Jewel Heiss had brought. It was all here. State filings, county filings, a thick stack of documents for WBE qualification, all signed by herself. Even bank statements for a trust fund in her name. The most recent deposit was only a month old.

  She felt sick. And very, very angry.

  o0o

  The Baysdorter Boncil office had not changed much since Lena last sat at this desk. Mike’s girl, Precious, was the first to recognize her. She drifted by with a distant smile on her lips, glanced oh-so-casually at Lena, scoping her clothes, her shoes, her hair, and at last her face. Lena waited gleefully.

  Precious met her eyes and nearly fell off her strappy fuck-me shoes. A quick recover, and she sent Lena a bug-eyed look, then hurried away without speaking.

  Spread the word, Precious.

  Lena breathed deeply. She wasn’t meek little Lena Sacker any more. She had Velvita-power.

  The next one to come by was Geri from PR. Geri bent over the front of Velvita’s carrel, looking both ways before she hissed, “Lena! I heard you were doing it with porn stars!”

  Lena drew back. “Excuse me?” I haven’t seen her in two years and this is the first thing out of her mouth? Who could have spread the word?

  “Is it true that John Holmes has a twelve-inch thing?”

  Lena smiled sweetly. “Is it true you frenched Anna from Accounting?”

  Geri stiffened. “Slut,” she snapped, and hustled off.

  Mike Redpune was next — Radio Precious seemed to be broadcasting. He walked toward her so slowly that she had time to blank her computer screen and get out her steel nail file. He still moussed the front of his hair like a cell phone accessory salesman at Best Buy. She ignored him. He came to a stop with a little swagger and stood there, his hands buried in his pants pockets, smirking. After about a minute she looked up.

  “Mr. Tannyhill is still out, Mike.”

  “Just coming by to say hi.”

  She looked up. This couldn’t be good.

  He leaned over the carrel and whispered, “I love your work.”

  “Do you. You realize it’s made for women.”

  Mike wiggled his eyebrows. “I, uh, still think it’s great.”

  Ah-hah. Mike and Precious must have been watching Hot Pink porn together. That’s how she’d been found out.