by Sally Laces
I had just been finishing up with the eyelash spool when Ella was announced. “Miss Ella Andersitz, madam,” said Arden with a droning voice. “Thank you, Arden,” I said, trying to get a finicky curl just right. “I’ll leave you two to your discussion,” he added. There was a tell-tale note of amusement in Arden’s voice. Just barely there, but I recognized it. Something wasn’t right.
When I turned to face Ella, standing among my gigantic bedroom with the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, the realization struck me at once. My best friend lived in a dorm room half the size of my walk-in closet.
“W-what did you say your parents did again?!” She asked, looking around my room.
In my haste, I’d totally forgotten when and where Ella and I did our gender-bending. We’d either meet at her apartment or at a spot on campus. Harrow’s 7 p.m. deadline had sent me into such a panic that I hadn’t even considered the fact that she’d never been to my place before.
Great. Two secrets revealed to two different people in one day. My life was falling apart, and all I had to show for it was a pair of knock-out heels.
Seriously cute, pink heels.
“Ella,” I said softly, standing up in my underwear. “You pick the outfit, I’ll tell you everything.”
——
She looked over every item, mixing and matching accessories with dresses, skirts with tops, jackets with blouses, her eye for color and knack for style so obvious in the way she set up my look. I, meanwhile, followed by her side, explaining the whole situation. How I wasn’t just Chris, the gender-bending college kid, but the heir to an Inverness fortune. My education was a life-long pseudo-internship in the company rather than an enjoyable college experience like she had. I even told her about Harrow, though I glossed over the spicier details of what we did in the room alone. Big things were happening at Inverness; I left out the business details, knowing she had little interest, but my own life became the matter of focus.
“I can’t go out dressed like a boy,” I said. “People recognize me. Paparazzi, rival businessmen, even kidnappers. My whole life would be locked away in this apartment.”
“Not a bad place to stay locked in,” she admitted, stopping by the mini fridge for a chilled bottle of pomegranate juice.
“After the first month you feel like you’re in heaven. After the sixth…” I shrugged my bra-clad shoulders. “You’ll do anything to get out.”
Ella turned toward me, arms crossed.
“I don’t have that many friends, Chris. Especially ones I can trust. School takes up a lot of my time, and my classmates are pretty cutthroat.”
“I’ll bet.” I’d met the team of lawyers at Inverness. There’s a reason people call them sharks.
“When I met you, I knew you were cool. Fun and smart and easy-going. Is that the real you? I mean…” She motioned to my bed, having settled on three outfits. “Is this the real you?”
“Yes,” I said, without even realizing they were two questions, not one. I was a person who enjoyed meeting people, having fun, and helping my friends when I could. More than once I’d ‘just happened’ to have a gift card to that clothing store Ella liked. And then there was the time Andrew’s trespassing charge (he briefly got into dumpster diving) ‘magically’ disappeared. I had no real power at the company until I turned 25, but the Inverness name still carried a lot of clout in Femnos. Anything I could do to help the people I liked was worth my time.
The secret identity just seemed like a necessary part of all that. I didn’t know Ella that well.
When a girl drops everything she’s doing to help you get dressed for the first date of your entire life, you know she deserves your honesty.
“I’m your friend, Ella. Through and through. Whatever you want, whenever I can help, I’ll be there.”
“Okay then.”
Ella turned toward my bed.
“Then you’ll be wearing this.”
“THAT?!”
She nodded firmly. “After we add a bit of blush to your cheeks.”
Chapter 16
HARROW
6:57 p.m.
One thing I like about Femnosi work culture: they pride themselves on punctuality. Traffic can be a bitch, but there’s a world-class subway system, ferries along their many canals, buses that are always on time, and helicopters for people who can afford them.
People like Christina. If she was a minute late then I’d have to make good on my threat.
…I just wasn’t sure what my threat was yet.
I had the Inverness negotiation down to a tee. I knew the members of the board by reputation and research. I knew Arthur the Interim President. I knew the tumult of the past few years for the company. I even knew about their jailed ex-President, as much as anyone could know the truth about that conniving liar.
The Heir was just not on my radar. He was a figurehead, a symbolic rich boy who lived only to show that the company’s lineage was secure. No power, no sway, no sense of being the cutthroat businessman his family were known for making. A nothing.
How wrong I was. He was about as good of a conniver as any of them. Better, since he had a whole other identity underneath his harmless facade. If they’d given him a place on the board, he could have seen my scheme coming from a mile away.
Between leaving the Inverness building and waiting in my hotel, I searched high and low for any info, public or private, about Chris. Nothing came up. He was technically an intern at the company and would be given the title of ’Company Steward’ at 25. A symbolic title, really, the way the Queen still ‘rules’ over Canada. The real power in Inverness lay with the President and the board and a hierarchy of accountants, lawyers, and glad-handers. These people were easy to read.
They didn’t have secret identities.
I needed to figure out what Chris was doing - what his deal was. Did he have an undercover mission to manipulate me? Had I found out a secret or was this part of a complicated Inverness-sanctioned plan?
The second martini at the restaurant bar did little to quell my racing mind, so I cut myself off for the night. A waiter came over to show me to my table, apologizing for its poor placement in the restaurant. I waved the concern away. A discreet section of the restaurant was all that was available after a visiting couple ‘suddenly’ had to cancel. Turns out they got a spur-of-the-moment invite to discuss an investment opportunity with Renault Group. What are the odds, right?
The table for two was near the door to the kitchen, affording me an expansive view of the restaurant’s seating area. I could see the host’s stand and the 30 or so tables behind. Most of the diners were big-wig executives out with clients, all bulbous of stomach and ruddy of face, three or four wine bottles empty on their tables. Then you had the couples who’d waited for months for the opportunity to dine at a 3-star restaurant with the romantic ambiance of string music and rich seafood surrounding them.
For Chris and I, this was neither a business dinner or a date. We just had a few things to discuss, and then…
“This is what you wanted, right?”
I blinked up at the goddess standing beside my table. At 7 p.m. sharp, Christina had arrived at my table in a sultry, open-back red dress that ran down her legs, open in a slit at the side to show smooth white calves. She would have looked at home at even the fanciest of galas, were it not for her girly pink high heels. A single golden bracelet hung on one wrist. Her blonde wig went to the mid shoulder, illuminating a face so perfectly made up with pouty red lips and sparkling green eyes.
If this were a date, I must’ve been the luckiest guy in the room. Judging by the looks of contempt from the other diners, I definitely was.
“Sit,” I said, trying to keep my no-nonsense composure despite the smell of her elegant floral perfume.
Christina didn’t kick out her chair or flop back into the seat. The sissy heiress calmly pulled out the chair by its sides, smoothed down her dress over her ample rear, and slid onto the seat without showing a hint of fear or exci
tement on her placid, alluring face.
“If we’re going to talk,” she said in a smoldering, female voice, “can we at least order some drinks first?”
I beckoned the waiter over. He seemed all too happy to be waiting on us now that Christina had arrived. Even though I’d told myself no more alcohol, I felt like I could make an exception after what I’d just witnessed.
“The 08 Chabliss, if you have it,” I said. “Otherwise the 09 Napa Valley Sauvignon. A plate of artichoke with your signature dip.”
“Oh, and the fried calamari balls. To go,” added Christina.
I let that odd request slide. We had plenty more to discuss.
With the waiter off to fetch our order, Christina and I had time to chat. We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, wondering just how much small talk we wanted to begin with, or how awkward we wanted to make things given what happened the night before.
Hey eyes were jade pools that revealed nothing. Her mouth had a hint of a smile at the corners. Her neck was so elegantly smooth and kissable. Back in Inverness this morning I could have looked any of those men in the eye and told them they were fired. Hell, I kind of did.
Sitting here with Christina, I was speechless.
Almost speechless.
“Why did you want to meet here tonight, Mr. Tanning?” Asked Christina innocently.
“Three reasons. One: Neutral ground. A private place for a private discussion.”
“I do like privacy.”
“Color me surprised. Second: I want to talk to you about a few things that shouldn’t be discussed in your own company.”
“It’s not my company, but alright.”
“And third…” we waited for the sommelier to pour two glasses of our $300 bottle of wine. I lifted mine by the stem. “I wanted to try the alleged best restaurant in Femnos.”
Christina laughed, a high-pitched, mellifluous sound that had the tables around us turning to look with envy. “O’Dellos is definitely the fanciest restaurant in town, but I’d hardly say its the best.”
“Do tell, then.”
Christina pursed her lips around the rim of her glass. “Cheesaris.”
“Cheesaris?” I scanned my memory. “Haven’t heard of it.”
“It’s a little hole in the wall on 88th street. Not too far from The Servant… er, from Forum West.”
“I suppose the janitors and maids can’t afford the place.”
“Oh they definitely can, I see them in there all the time. Even some of Inverness’ cleaning staff frequent the place. They never recognize me since I only go there in my girl’s clothes. Although they typically stick to gouda and cheddar with a local beer to wash it down.”
I chuckled. “Ah. A cheese restaurant. I suppose it’s right in the name.”
“What you see is what you get!”
“Not always,” I said, lowering my jaw.
Christina’s eyes went down to the table.
“No. Not always.”
Chapter 17
CHRISTINA
I rubbed my cold, bare arm, clenching my toes in my heels. “No. Not always.”
“Does Cheesaris have a six-course prix fixe?” He asked, obviously referring to O’Dellos set menu, which served a multi-plate meal that changed every night. That was the only thing you could order aside from appetizers and wine.
“Nope, just cheese and crackers and booze.”
“I might have to check it out while I’m here.”
“Well if you want the good stuff, the local Femnosi cheeses like Savirar and Agusta, you have to know the owner.”
“Or know someone who knows the owner.”
“Or that.”
“Like you.”
I blushed slightly, then took a sip of my wine. “Sure, I guess.”
Harrow stared at me in silence while the waiter brought the artichoke to our table. I gently peeled off an ear and dipped it into O’Dellos famous aioli sauce, then slowly bit the flesh off with my teeth, doing my best to avoid smearing my lipstick.
“Christina.”
“Hm?” I asked in between chews.
“You haven’t been honest with me.”
I swallowed. “I…I know.”
“I came to Femnos to conduct a multi-billion dollar business deal. I expected the unexpected.” He glanced down at the aromatic appetizer, then back up at me. “What I did not expect was having an encounter with a crossdressing member of the company the night before my meeting.”
“I don’t technically work for Inverness. I’m an intern on paper but really I’m just there because of my bloodline. And I wouldn’t call it an encounter.”
“What would you call it then?” He growled.
“I dunno,” I said, airily reaching for another piece of the artichoke. “The best blowjob of your life, maybe?”
Seeing the big man stunned into silent agreement was worth way more than a dinner at D’Oulli’s.
“Was it not?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I didn’t come here to discuss that,” he said, looking around for the waiter.
“Then what did you come here to discuss? Harrow!” I reached across the table, putting my hand on his arm. “You keep dancing around the topic and I don’t know what you want me to say and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be thinking. This is the first time I’ve been to a restaurant like O’Dellos alone with a guy. It took me forever to find the right outfit and even though I’m doing my best you’re treating me like…”
“Like?”
“Like you don’t trust me.”
“Should I?”
I pulled my hand back and thought for a moment.
“Yes,” I said. The waiter hovered by our table with the first course of our meal, a fennel-mushroom soup. I gave him the subtle glance that every Femnosi worker understood to mean ‘not yet.’ He nodded and went back to the kitchen.
“I know this is strange. I didn’t expect any of this either. I had no idea you came here to meet with Inverness when I met you last night. All I wanted was to go out and have fun.”
“And did you?”
I paused. “Yes.”
Harrow sat up a bit straighter in his seat. I’d been more forthright with him than I had with anyone in my life, except maybe Elle a few hours ago, but that was different. This was me, as a girl, with a man I genuinely liked, even admired.
“Who else knows you crossdress?”
“Just you and Ellen and Andrew.” There was no reason to mention Arden. That was between my butler and I.
“Who’s Andrew?” He asked cautiously.
“The guy who ran away last night.”
“Ah. Right.”
The waiter returned with our food. He glanced at me. I nodded subtly and he placed down the soup. I waited with bated breath until Harrow took up the spoon and tried the dish, one of our local delicacies. He seemed to enjoy the taste.
“That’s a short list of people.”
“I like to remain discreet about my life outside the company.”