5: In Which She Passes a Test
*******************
“So you don’t think I have an allergy to satin?” I asked Dr. Hudson for the fiftieth time, worry creasing up my face.
Paige Hudson chuckled. “No, Janelle. I’d hardly believe the itching is caused by a newly-developed satin allergy.” She paused, giving me a serious look. “I would like to advise a Chlamydia test.”
I got off the rickety examination bed with a start, shocked to the core. “Excuse me?”
“Janelle, I’m not going to beat around the bush about this.” Paige sighed. “We’re friends, right?” She was ten years my senior but I did consider her a mate. “And I’m your GP. It’s my job to explore every option for your sake. Chlamydia is the most common STD and in my opinion –”
Blushing, I swiftly cut in. “I don’t have that.”
“Had sex lately? With anyone…new? Didn’t use protection? Or maybe it broke?”
Oh, fúck. A myriad of emotions ran through my insides. Surely it couldn’t be him. But I was pretty sure the look I gave my doctor said it all.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Paige nodded to herself. “Now, you said it hurts a little when you pee?”
“It…it only started yesterday.”
“OK. Anything else – aside from the itching?”
“No.”
Paige sighed again. She did that a lot with me, I was beginning to notice. Placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, she said softly, “Look, I know you’re agitated but it really isn’t anything to be embarrassed about. I see this almost every day. Most women don’t even show symptoms.” She took her hand back. “Besides, it’s not your fault. You probably got it from the last person you slept with. That still doesn’t change the fact that unprotected sex is silly, risky business, Janelle. I say this as a friend, not your doctor.”
It had been two weeks since that episode in the kitchen with Stephen. I hadn’t gotten laid since, plus I hadn’t showed up to the book club since my first visit. I didn’t have the balls to.
“That c0cksucking cúnt!” I found myself screeching, stumbling backwards and perching on the bed. “He gave me an STD! Of all the bloody things!”
“Jay, calm down,” Paige soothed.
“Calm down? He gave me a fúcking STD! How am I supposed to calm down?”
“Consider this a lesson learned. We’ll do the swab and I’ll give you antibiotics and you’ll be out on the prowl once again, OK?”
I took deep breaths, close to hyperventilating. “Okay,” I whispered. “Okay.”
*
“I just Googled Chlamydia,” Prince said from his perch at the foot of my bed. Gulping down the last of his pizza, he looked up from his BlackBerry. “Apparently, you can’t have sex with anyone until Paige says you can.”
“This isn’t funny,” I wailed, throwing a pillow at him.
“I’m being serious!”
I stared up at the ceiling. I didn’t ever want to leave my bedroom. “I always use protection. Unless… Well, my only real fear was getting pregnant and that was never a possibility with you since you're – you know – sterile. Getting infected with a disease was never a possibility to me. I really am a dunce.”
Prince got next to me on the bed. “You know what, babe?”
“What?”
“We should find that man-whore and slash his díck off.”
I let out a loud laugh. “And feed it to him. After all, he owns a restaurant.”
“He does? Well, let’s go look for him!” Prince got up excitedly. “You could expose him in front of everyone!”
“And expose myself in the process?” I said dryly. “No, thank you. I still have to show my face in public. It’s kind of part of my job.”
“You’re such a spoilsport.”
“I do have to tell him, though. Paige told me that he probably doesn’t know he’s got…it.”
“You should just let him die.”
“It doesn’t kill.” I sat up. “Prince, can I be alone? Please?”
He gave me a strange look. “Sure. I’ll be in the living room.”
Once he’d gone, I got up and threw some clothes on. I’d come straight home and scrubbed myself to the core – as if I could somehow scrub Chlamydia away – and poured myself into my PJs. Prince, trying to find out what was wrong, had ordered a large pepperoni pizza to bribe the information out of me. He’d succeeded.
“Oh, you’re going to get it, Mr. Darcy,” I spat into the mirror as I dragged a comb through my difficult hair. I pulled it into a messy ponytail and stalked out the room. Prince looked away from the TV when I came in.
“Where are you going looking like the girl-next-door?”
“Out.”
“You’re going to see this arsehole, aren’t you?”
I heaved a sigh. “I have to. I’m pissed off and dying to punch him.”
“Then I give my blessing. Call me once he’s lying in hospital.”
I forced out a laugh. “Sure thing.”
*
Plaisir was packed at this time of night. It took me forever to find parking and once I did, I had to squeeze myself between two humongous Land Rovers. Land Rovers were the Justin Biebers of the car world – annoying as hell and pretty damn overrated.
Stella was at the maître d’s podium this time, grinning and greeting everyone enthusiastically.
“Evening, ma’am!” she greeted brightly. She gave me a pout. “Aw. Unfortunately, all our tables are taken. I can –”
“Where’s Stephen?”
“Who?”
“Stephen…” My voice trailed off when I realised that I didn’t know his last name. “He owns this place.”
“Oh! You mean Mr. Ritter.” Stella let out a little giggle that told me exactly how she felt about her dashing boss. “You’re in luck. He usually swings by a little later but he came in early tonight for –”
“Just tell me where he is.” If I didn’t cut her off, I had the feeling she’d blabber on and on, giving me Stephen’s itinerary.
“What’s it about?”
“It’s personal.”
She arched a thin brow. “I’m not too –”
“That motherfúcker gave me an STD!” I hissed furiously, just about ready to slap the red off her head. “I have every right to see him right now. I don’t care if he’s entertaining the Dalai Lama – take me to him!”
Stella visibly gulped, her pale skin blooming a deep crimson. “F-follow me.”
We picked our way through the packed tables and headed into the kitchen – the actual, busy one – and out the other side. Stella was silent the whole way, her sky-high purple heels click-clacking against the linoleum floor.
How do you confront someone about the STD they gave you?
That was the only question running through my mind – well, that and What object should I use to slash his díck off?
Stella knocked on a closed glass door with a golden OFFICE plaque beside it. Tacky.
“This is the manager’s office,” she explained over her shoulder. “Mr. Ritter comes in from time to –”
“I don’t really give a shit what he comes in here to do,” I cut in.
The door was pulled open and Stephen himself stood there. In a black cashmere jumper and jeans, he looked even better than in a suit. Every time he wore something different, he just about managed to make himself seem even more irresistible. For a moment, I could only stare.
A slow smile spread across his boyish face. “Janelle, hey. Thanks, Stella.” He nodded at her to leave before gazing down at me once again. “How’ve you been?”
I snapped to attention. “How do you think I’ve been, you sonofabitch?”
Stephen gauged my no-nonsense expression and quickly pulled me into the room, slamming the door behind him.
“What’s going on?” he demanded, looking puzzled.
I smacked him in the chest as hard as I could with both hands. He barely flinched.
“You fúcking prick! You bítch!”
“Janelle!” He gripped my hands in his, shaking me into submission. “Could you please explain what the hell is going on?”
“You gave me an STD, that’s what!”
Stephen released me abruptly, giving me an odd look. “What?”
Stupidly enough, I felt a ball welling up in my throat. “I went for a check-up and…and my GP told me I have…have Chlamydia.”
Stephen’s eyes were blazing. “And you think I gave it to you?” he growled angrily, looking at me with disgust.
“Who else? You’re the last –”
“I get tested all the time, Janelle,” he snarled. “If I have Chlamydia then I got it from you.” He ran a hand through his unruly dirt-blonde hair. “Oh, shít. If you have it, I have it.”
“I don’t sleep around without –”
“Janelle, cut the innocent bullshít. Who else have you slept with in the past month?”
My mind was racing. It wasn’t even that hard to think about it.
“Just Prince and David,” I said to myself, biting my lip.
“Fúck,” Stephen said under his breath, going to his desk. “Fúck. I have to go. We should never have had sex. This is just my fúcking luck.”
“You don’t know that I gave it to you!”
“Well, we know that I sure as hell didn’t give it to you,” he snapped in annoyance, grabbing his jacket from the back of the big black chair behind the desk. “Do yourself – and whichever poor cúnt you sink your fangs into next – a favour and keep your legs closed for business from now on.”
“You bastard,” I spat, cheeks flaming. “I never want to see you again.”
“That makes two of us.”
I stormed out of his office, tears of humiliation burning down my cheeks.
When I got home, Prince was on the couch, fear in his eyes.
“Janelle, I am so fúcking sorry,” he said quickly as soon as I stumbled into the room. “I got tested last week and since you didn’t complain of any symptoms I just thought you hadn’t gotten it. And then, well, I didn’t want to confess that I was the one who infected you,” he said quickly. “It was going to be easier for me to go along with Stephen giving it to you…but I can’t lie to you, Jay. I just can’t. I’m sorry. I hope to fuck you didn’t beat the poor guy up.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“I probably gave it to Stephen and…and I’m going to bed,” I said, my voice hollow.
“Janelle, I’m –”
“Sorry? Whatever, Prince. Whatever.” I pushed past him on my way to my room, slamming the door behind me.
Stephen’s look of revulsion was burned on my brain. He probably thought I was a cheap hussy, which was completely unfair. I deserved it though. I completely deserved it. Sleeping with Prince – however gratifying – without protection had been foolish and chancy.
Erin was going to have a field day with this one.