The next morning I had a trendy business suit set aside, blessing Mama with each breath at her thoughtfulness in making sure I was covered for a number of occasions. I'd have to go out and add to the clothes she started me off with, but I had a firm foundation with which to build.

A plain white Oxford started everything off. I left the first three buttons opened to hint at cleavage but not show it off. Next was a high waist pencil skirt that hugged my hips and the tops of my thighs, hanging down, looser at my knees. A scoop neck tuxedo vest rested over the shirt and hid the upper portion of the skirt discounting the need for a belt. The last was a one button stretch jacket with a square weave. Jacket, skirt, and vest were are in the same color, gray.

I looked professional, ready for a day at the office, or a nice business meeting. I winced at the gray court shoes and remembered the broken blister on my heel. With the fresh application of antibiotic ointment and a clear band-aid I slid into the shoes and flinched slightly at a little pinch of pain.

I stood in front of the mirror and turned to the side to see how the outfit looked. The pain on my ankle was worth it. I looked good.

It took me a few tries, but I mixed some gray and white eyeshadow to mirror the color of the outfit and widen my eyes. The rest of the time I spent perfecting the face that I had the previous night. My black bag was perfect for the outfit. I almost felt like going out and conquering the world when I was finished.

When I entered the kitchen Mama was adding cream to her coffee and did a double-take. "My my, don't you look five years older."

I grinned, happily. That was the look I was going for. "Thank you."

"Ready for today? I hear from your father that it will be a busy one."

My adult-looking façade fell in a teenaged huff. "What? Max told him but not me?"

She sipped at her coffee. "There is a reason for this, Sasha. Don't be angry at Max. It is important that you are ignorant of what will be happening this morning. Your father agrees that this is best and I do as well."

I frowned a little, but let it go. The doorbell rang a moment later and I looked longingly at the bagel that Mama was eating before going to answer the door.

"Perfect," Max said as I stepped back to allow him inside. He was wearing black slacks and a bright blue silk top, looking decidedly yummy as always. His hair was shinier than normal almost slick, but still in the low ponytail.

A quick peck on the lips and he looked around. "Your dad's not here, right?'

I raised my brow. "No. He already left for work."

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small box… no, not that small. When he opened it there was a medium sized brooch inside with a smooth clear jewel in the center surrounded by a starburst of what I hoped weren't diamonds.

"Max." My voice sounded warily.

"Don't worry, it's costume. I just thought you'd might like a little splash.

I sighed and stood there while he affixed it to the lapel.

"Good morning, Max."

He turned slightly and nodded. "Good morning, Mrs. Petrovitch."

Mama looked at the brooch and didn't seem concerned at all. She probably recognized that it wasn't real. "Would you care for some coffee before you set off?"

"Yes, thank you. Black, no sugar."

Mama smiled. "Yes, you're still in training."

Max stepped back and critically looked me over. "You need something else. Ah, I know what's missing. Those silver bangles you wore yesterday, the thin ones."

I nodded. "I thought that would be too much."

"No, you need something to offset the gray. You don't want to appear prim and proper. What we are looking for is no-nonsense but trendy."

"How about rings?"

He shook his head. "No, the bangles will do fine."

When I returned with bagels in tow Max gave me two thumbs up. "Perfect, they're going to love you."

I set my hands on my hips and glared. "Who? Who are they?"

He sipped at his coffee. "You'll find out later."

With an evil glare I huffed and went to pour some juice and toast a bagel. Once breakfast was finished, all three of us set out. Mama gave me a kiss on the cheek and for the first time did the same with Max. "You two have fun today. And good luck."

She drove off with Max there rubbing his cheek. "What was that for?"

I slipped my hand through his arm. "She likes that you make me happy. Mama approves of you too. So you're stuck with me now. It's too late to make a getaway."

He snorted. "Like I'd be stupid enough to let you go."

I preened and he escorted me to the car. Getting in was even more difficult with the pencil skirt. It was just too tight to let me split my legs apart properly.

Max made sure to arrive a little later than normal. In fact he went so far as to make me wait before getting out of the car. Once the majority of the students had entered we got out and he set his hand at the small of my back leading me down the center of the walkway. Right before we reached the door, three of the main doors opened. Parsons was in the middle, flanked by the same two security guys that kicked me to the curb the day previous.

"Mr. Petrovitch, I see you're still flouting the rules."

We stopped and for once Max didn't say anything. At first I was hurt, but Parsons ticked me off enough for me to defend myself. "What rules would those be. I'm well within school dress code."

He looked at Max. "You're going to be late for class."

Max withdrew his hand and went inside, all without giving me a second glance. This was more than hurting me. He betrayed me. My stomach knotted, and I felt nauseous. After the door closed, Parsons turned back to me. "I told you once before. I don't want your kind at my school. You can either wear normal clothes or you can stay home."

"But…"

"No buts."

A couple of boys I recognized as seniors walked past and laughed at me when they heard the tail end of our conversation. My eyes started to burn and my face was flushed. "You can't do this."

"Watch me."

He nodded at the security guys and the moved forward. I took a step back but they grabbed me and we all spun around.

"LET GO!" I screamed and struggled in their overly large mitts.

"Get your freaking hands off of her!"

Max!

Parsons turned around. "Would you like to join her… whatever your name is?"

Max moved in and one of the security guys let go of me. "I said let her go. You're already going to be up on assault charges would you like to add illegal detainment to that?"

I hit at the hand of the guard that still had a hold on my forearm. "It hurts, let go!"

"Escort them both off the premises, gentlemen."

Max turned and got into Parsons face. "You're going down, scuzzball."

Parsons smiled. "You have to prove it first. With no witnesses, you're going to have a hard time doing that."

Max laughed and grinned. "See that brooch Sasha's wearing? Yeah, we're going to have about twenty-thousand witnesses by tonight and maybe a few million a couple of days afterward. Pack your bags Parsons."

At that announcement the security guard let go of my arm and I smacked him anyway.

"Come on Sasha. We need to get to the hospital and notify the police so they can document the bruises on your arm."

I prayed for a camera to appear so I could take a picture of the look on Parsons face, but I was denied. Max took a hold of my upper arm and led me to the car. When we made it to my side I spun on him and hit his arm with the heel of my hand. Then I did it again.

"You left me with them! I thought you got scared and left me alone with them!"

I hit him a couple of more times, but in the end he grabbed me and held me tight while I burst into tears in his arms.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I wasn't gone, just hiding around the corner. I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I swear."

I tried to draw back again, but he held me tighter. "You left me alone," I sobbed.

"I'm so sorry, baby. We had to have a real reaction from you. Parsons couldn't know that anything was going on. I told your dad. He didn't like it, but he agreed it was for the best."

I struggled and Max finally let go of me. I looked up at him with my tear stained face. "Take me home."

"Sasha, we have to get the police to…"

"Take -- me -- home."

Maybe it was the murderous glare I gave him or it was something else, but he stepped back and fumbled for his keys. He beeped the lock open and reached for the handle, but I slapped at his hand. "I can open my own door."

"Sasha…"

Holding my hands up and away, I stopped him. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go home and get out of these ridiculous clothes and these fucking heels that are rubbing the skin off of my feet. So if you aren't going to take me then let me know so I can start walking."

He finally surrendered.

The ride home was anything but easy and when we got there Max turned off the car and I got out as quick as I could. He followed me and my hands were shaking so hard that it too me almost a full minute to key my key in the door. "Stay here," I snapped. "I'll be right back."

He had his head tilted down and just nodded in response. When I got inside I kicked off my heels and took off the jacket on the way to my room. I grabbed two of the Forever 21 bags that were left over and upended my organizer bag on my bed, spilling its contents across the comforter and some of it to the floor. Grabbing the pouch for the fountain pen I shoved the bag and the pouch inside the shopping bag and then went and put the clothes Max bought for me into the other.

Looking at the makeup kit, I almost choked, but I stuffed the few things that were loose back inside before wrestling it to the floor. I grabbed the bags and the handle to the kit and dragged it along with me to the front door.

Right when I was about to open it, I spied the brooch pinned to the jacket and ripped it off. I opened the door and tossed the clothes bag out.

"Sasha, what…"

With both hands I dragged the kit outside and dropped the end on the porch. "There's everything you bought me and gave me, Max. We're done. Goodbye." Before I closed the door I threw the brooch at him, hitting him in the chest.

Everybody lost today. Parsons, Max, me, there were no winners, only losers.

The vest came off next. I picked up the coat and hung it up in my closet along with the shirt and skirt. The knots in my stomach turned to lead and there was nothing I wanted more than to just crawl in the closet and die, which was where I was at when Mama came home.

I didn't answer when she called for me, but eventually she saw the open door and checked. She visibly relaxed and sighed.

"Sasha. Max called and told me what happened. What are you doing?"

My tears had dried long ago and now I looked at her with the salty streams a part of my makeup. "Did you know?"

"Did I know what, child," she said as she knelt beside me.

"About this morning. That he was going to leave me there by myself. I held up my arms and showed her my bruises. "They hurt me, Mama."

She looked at my arms and her face turned to stone. "Who did this?" I'd never heard her voice sound more deadly.

"The security guards. Mr. Parsons told them to kick me off the property. He said that he didn't want people like me at his school."

Mama rose and went to the phone at my desk and punched some numbers. "I need to report an assault on my child… yes, his name is Parsons, he is the assistant principal at the high school my daughter attends… yes, that's right, Petrovitch… oh, she did? Well, then what are you going to do about it?"

Mama was well past mad and about to go into a full fledged rage. "I don't care if my child is eighteen, twelve, or sixty-two. Sasha had every right to be there and that man had his Gestapo goons manhandle her like she was common trash." She huffed in anger. "Very well, we will be there."

After hanging up she returned to the closet. "Get up, Sasha. You are a Petrovitch. We do not cower in the closet like frightened rabbits. Get dressed in the clothes you were wearing this morning and be quick."

I scrambled up and dressed as quick as I could.

"Where is…" Mama stuck her head back in the closet as I was buttoning my Oxford. "Where is your makeup and your purse? Why are your things scattered all over." Finally clicking she looked at the empty hangers and rolled her eyes. "Sasha, please tell me you did not do something stupid."

My face told the entire story. "Ugh, you are so much like your father. React first and damn the consequences." With a sigh she pointed at me. "Hurry up. There is much damage that needs repairing."

I slipped on the vest and the jacket over it. Buttoning the vest on the way out of the room, Mama was waiting for me at the door. "Get your identification child."

I found the clutch on the floor on the other side of the bed. I forgot to give that back to Max. Grabbing it, I hurried back to Mama and slipped my heels back on.

The police station smelled like sweat. There were several people milling about, typing at their ancient computers. The lady that was helping us wore a brown polyester pantsuit and her nails were bitten to the quick.

"Did you tell them to let you go or to stop?"

I nodded. "Both, that's when Max came back out. One of them let go and I hit at the other one holding me. He hurt my arm."

"Let me see."

Mama helped me with my jacket and I rolled up the left sleeve. There were already dark splotches in the shape of fingers on my forearm. She picked up a phone and pushed three numbers. After a short paused she said, "This is detective Gilbert. I need someone to take some pictures of an assault victim."

"Roll up your other sleeve, Sasha," Mama told me.

I did so and I could see marks, but not nearly as bad. "The other guy did this."

The detective nodded. "It should be easy enough to find out who these guys are, but I'll need a description."

I could do better than that. "One's name was Bryant, and the other Kurtz. Kurtz is the one who did this." I held up my left arm. "They wear nametags."

"Good enough." She leaned back. "I can already tell you that there's not a lot that we can do. Simple assault in this state is a Class C misdemeanor. That means they get a ticket. However, I want to push this on over to the District Attorney's office. Considering what you've gone through the past three years and specifically the last two days, there might be enough evidence of premeditation, meaning that they planned all of this in advance. In that case it pops up to a Class A misdemeanor or a Class C Felony. But that's not up to me. It's what the assistant D.A. will figure out."

I blanched at the ticket reference, but felt a little better when she upped the ante of charges that could be filed. The detective stopped for a second and checked her notes. "You said that the girl that started the incident yesterday… Danvers?"

I nodded. "Carolyn Danvers."

Her tongue worked the side of her lip as she typed a few things in her computer. "Well well well. I think we might have ourselves a conspiracy. It turns out that Carolyn is the daughter of the School District Superintendent."

I blinked at the detective. "What's that mean?"

She pursed her lips for a moment before explaining. "It didn't make any sense why Parsons would act so brashly. He had to know that he wasn't going to get away with doing this. But lets say hypothetically that after your first day coming to school presenting as a girl, he got a bug up his… uh. He got an idea. Maybe he talked to the Superintendent and got the okay to push it this far as long as there weren't any witnesses. They, again hypothetically, got Danvers here to start something in class so Parsons would have a 'reason' to kick you out."

My mouth opened. "Just because I'm dressed like this?"

The detective sighed. "Honey, I've seen people do stupid stuff over a lot less, believe me. This isn't beyond the realm of possibility in the least."

Mama leaned into the desk. "When will we learn whether or not the District Attorney will do anything?"

She shrugged. "I'm sorry, but there will be a line and this isn't going to be a top priority. There are a lot more serious crimes that will be ahead of you. It may take weeks or even maybe months."

My heart sank again.

"I'm sorry. If it were sensationalized that would be one thing, but…"

"Pardon?" I asked.

"T.V., protesters, ACLU, Al Sharpton, Grant Strongholme. You've seen them on the news. If they were involved then pressure would be brought on the D.A.'s office to resolve the matter. The mayor doesn't like bad publicity. What?"

I was grinning at that. "I think it will be on the news tonight. My boyfriend bugged me with one of those fake jewelry cameras without me knowing. He's got it all on tape."

The detective's chair squeaked loudly as she sat up. "Where is it?"

I shrugged. "I guess with the T.V. station. Grant Strongholme's office called me yesterday about wanting to do a story about how I've been treated. It was probably them that gave Max the camera."

I was sitting on the sofa, still in my gray outfit. It was probably the longest I'd worn something since Mama bought it all for me. She called Max and asked him to come over. I just sat and stewed. I didn't need my mother fixing everything between Max and me. I'd broken up with him for a reason. I was sick and tired of all his stupid secrets and he knew how much this morning bugged me before we left for school.

Leaving me by myself to be manhandled by those thugs was the breaking point. So, as far as I was concerned it was over. The thing was, I was so sure that he was the one. I mean everything was perfect, then he had to go and ruin it. I was wrong about him being the other half of my soul. Now I knew I couldn't even trust my own judgment when it comes to love.

Mama ignored me and the hurt looks I was giving her for inviting my ex-boyfriend over. She just let me stew.

When the bell rang I wormed my way deeper into the sofa and crossed my arms, defiantly.

"Hello Max."

"Hi, Mrs. Petrovitch. Thank you for calling me."

I refused to look at him, mainly for fear that I would forgive him and go rushing back into his strong arms so he could make everything better like he always did. They way lay surrender, and for once I was going to stand my ground and not give way.

"Sit, talk to her. Make things right between your two." Then to me Mama turned. "Sasha, I forbid you from leaving this room. You will talk to man you love and remember what I told you last evening."

My lips thinned and I felt my teeth gnash. Instead of saying something to Mama that I would regret later, I kept quiet.

Annoyingly. Max sat directly across from me in Papa's armchair. It made me have to turn to the right so I could face the kitchen. I also had to cross my legs in the opposite direction because of the angle. This annoyed me further because my band-aid slipped and now the wound was open and raw. The stinging reminded me of the first time Parsons sent me home and I had to walk. Which in turn reminded me about the second time and Max's abandonment of me. Which brought me back full circle about why I was so enraged to begin with.

"Sasha, I can't say how much I regret what I did. You were right. I should have told you what was happening."

I blew a small snort of air out of my nose. 'Now he realizes it,' I thought.

"I just listened to what the guy was saying and I should have known he was going for ratings instead of doing what was right."

A white burst blew in my head, and I almost screamed at him. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Max. You and your damn secrets…"

"Sasha!" Mama called from the kitchen. "You will lower your voice and keep a civil tongue in your head. Ladies do not speak that way."

Heat flushed my face and I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. "You and your… darn secrets. You've kept so many that I never have a clue about half of the things you say anymore. It's always, 'trust me Sasha', well no, I no longer trust you. I can't be with someone that isn't honest and open with me."

With that I tightened my crossed arms and turned back to the kitchen.

Max's sniffed and his voice broke. "I deserved that. You're right. I've been keeping too many secrets." I heard her swallow and her breath slow. "What can I do to make this right?"

I sighed. "There's nothing to make right. We're no longer together. You can go find another… boy to make things right with and keep secrets from."

"I don't want anyone else."

I don't know where it came from, honestly. Somewhere in the deep recesses of the human id is a well of nastiness that occasionally spews out hateful things just to hurt the ones you love. "Well then I'd suggest getting used to a very lonely and unfulfilled life because you've lost this crossdresser, go find another." It was said with as much venom as I could muster and I regretted it the moment it left my mouth.

I heard a gasp from the direction of the kitchen. "Sasha Petrovitch."

I looked at her and then at Max. Tears were running down his face and all I saw was the girl underneath the masculine façade she showed. A moment of regret showed on my face, but then it hardened again.

Mama was livid. "In eighteen years I have never, not once, been ashamed of you. That is until this moment. The Sasha that I know is forgiving and loving. I beginning to wonder who this person is that has taken over my son's body."

My eyes burned again. I wanted to lash out, to throw something, but I just stayed still.

"Go to your room and do not come out until I call for you. I cannot look at your face right now."

My lower lip trembled. I looked at Max again. She had her face in her hands and lowered. Standing up as quick as I was able I took a step and yelled out as the high heel dug into my ankle. I reached down to take it off and I saw blood trailing over the side. With a whimper I quickly slid it off and dropped it, and then the other. I ran to my room.

Slamming the door I screamed in frustration. At the desk I sat and drew some tissues to cover the wound. There on top of my laptop lay the papers I was using to practice my calligraphy.

Sasha Petrovitch
Mrs. Sasha Petrovitch
Mrs. Sasha Slade
Ms. Sasha Slade
Mr. & Mrs. Max Slade.

Over and over again, variations on a theme. I wanted to rip them to shreds. I wanted to expunge that hour of my life when the only thought that would keep me sane after the morning I had experienced was the idea that one day Max and I would be married. It was a silly schoolgirl fantasy, but it was mine, the one that kept me from breaking down and crying. She… he… both of Max was supposed to be mine and I was supposed to be his. Now it was all in ruins and I just got through making everything so much more worse.

There was no chance he would ever forgive me for what I'd said and since I couldn't forgive him his abandonment of me then it was all a tangled mess.

Now I couldn't go back to school, I lost my boyfriend and girlfriend, I made Mama ashamed of me, and my ankle really hurt. I couldn't imagine what Papa was going to say. He'll side with Mama and be ashamed of me too.

My door opened. Mama strode in full of disappointment on her face, carrying a bottle of alcohol and a bowl. I cringed at what I knew she was going to do.

"Do not think that you will not get away from this evening without punishment. This is only the beginning."

"Mama…"

"Hush. Only hateful things are coming from your mouth and I will hear no more. You have had your chance. Now I will have my say."

She knelt to the floor beside me and moved my hand away from my ankle. I tried to keep it there, but she smacked the back with her fingers. "Move your hand."

I flinched at the tone in her voice. Bandages were in the bowl, which she removed and set on the desk.

"There is a distraught girl in the living room right now that thinks the world of you and only wants what is best. She is wrong for keeping so many things from you, but that is your fault as well. Have you by chance informed her that this bothers you so much?"

I started to answer, but was shushed again. "I talk, you listen."

She unscrewed the bottle of alcohol and held my leg with my ankle and foot over the bowl before she poured a liberal amount of what felt like acid over the wound. Mama loves her alcohol. To her, it cures almost every ill.

I hissed and then cried silently at the pain.

"Your father agreed that this was the best thing to do, keeping you in the dark as to your role this morning. Will you denounce him as well and force him to hear your venom?"

The thought of yelling at Papa made me shake my head ever so slightly.

"After your father told me of the plan, I had my doubts, but I agreed not to say anything. Will you now subject me to your hatred?"

My head dropped at the thought of shaming myself in that way, but I shook in response. Mama took some of the gauze and dried the area before setting a larger bandage over the now oozing wound and taping it in place.

"Now we come to my point, Sasha. If you would not denounce your father and I, why would you tear out your own heart and throw it away?" She looked up at me. The anger had bled out of her voice and only severe disappointment remained. "I saw your face last night when you came inside. I know that look well, because I see it every night before I lay down with your father."

She capped off the bottle and threw the wet bandages in the trash by the desk. After standing she sighed and looked away from me.

"Your father and I argue, child. However we love each other and strive to find middle ground. If we cannot then one of us eventually gives in because our love for one another is more important than anything else. These fairytale thoughts of yours where Max plays the handsome prince coming to save you are just that, fairytales. Reality is much more difficult. You have to make sacrifices in order to come out better in the end."

I looked up and wiped away some of the tears on my face.

"Our biggest argument was when you were young and your father insisted we immigrate to America. I didn't want to leave my family behind, but in the end I relented. Here, you have grown up in a relatively safe society, and we are much better off financially that we were in Serbia, and I can send money back home to my family so that I know they are living well. I do not regret the move here, child. But I do regret arguing with your father and what I put him through before and after we moved here. I hurt him and I have spent every day since making it up."

She motioned toward the desk and I saw she was looking at my calligraphy. "You love him, Sasha. Do not make a decision now that will destroy that. Let him tell his story and give him another chance to be the man that he knows you want him to be."

I looked down at my fingers in my lap. The heat in my stomach had gone, and now I just felt sadness and regret for my actions.

"Think about it, child. Now I must go talk to Max. Stay here until I call on you."

I nodded.

Thirty minutes passed and I was waiting for my chance to apologize and make amends. I changed my outfit, setting the suit aside for dry cleaning. I only wore a simple mid-thigh linen skirt and a green camisole. My feet were bare and were staying that way for the near future. I check to see if Mama had given me any mules or flip-flops but was out of luck. It seemed my luck had run out the day I met Max. All my karma points were used to bring her into my life on that day. At this point I was seriously in negative numbers. However, I would change that. I resolved to listen attentively and try my best to understand why Max made the decisions she'd made. I would try my best to accept that and make suggestions as to how to move forward instead of yelling and being mean.

I would…

"Sasha." I was so into my own thoughts that I didn't hear the door open.

I stood and looked hopefully at her. "I'm sorry, Mama."

She sighed and a somewhat peaceful look dropped over her face. "Accepted. Now I believe that you have someone else to talk to."

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Restore my faith in you, child."

I ducked my head and slipped past her, down the hallway, and into the living room. I hadn't realized I was running before I came to a stop when I saw Max standing beside the chair she was sitting in earlier.

Her hair was loose from the ponytail and was hanging on either shoulder. Despite all of the drama, she still looked beautiful and handsome all at the same time. Her eyes dropped to my breasts. I looked down and I was clutching her ring. I hadn't remembered holding onto in the first place and I was suddenly overwhelmed with how glad I was that I hadn't thrown it at her when I returned her gifts.

Slowly, I entered the living room and step by step closed in on her. She shifted a little, unsure of what I was going to do. This girl, who had saved me time and again from people much stronger than me was afraid of what I was going to do or say. My heart broke again, but in sadness at what I'd brought out of myself. Just when I'd thought I'd cried all of my tears, I felt my eyes burn again.

A foot away from her I looked up into her eyes and saw the slightest ray of hope shine in them. "We have some things to talk about," I whispered softly.

She nodded. "Okay."

"I have something to say first."

She swallowed. "Alright."

"I love you."

Fresh tears fell down her cheeks. "I love you too."

"Good. Then everything else is unimportant right now."

The look on her face told me that she was wondering if this was real.

I painted on a Mona Lisa smile and whispered, "This is the part where we hug and kiss."

I can't tell you how much I regretted my previous actions once I was in her arms. Everything felt right again and the whole day just felt like a horrible nightmare that happened to someone else. By the time Max had pressed her lips against mine, our anger, sorrow, forgiveness, and love turned to passion. However we were still in the living room of my parents. Papa was due home any second and it wouldn't do to have him seeing me crawling all over Max.

After feeling the male part of my body pressing against the tops of Max's thighs, I eased up and we separated.

"Sorry."

Max looked down and saw my skirt tenting. I really have to get that tucking thing worked out.

"Don't be. I feel the same way."

We sat on the sofa, Max half turned and leaning back while I was securely snuggled up under her chin with a pillow clutched over my midsection, the lower half of which was helping to cover my body's less than female response.

"I'm so sorry for not thinking about your feelings, Sasha. I promise I won't let it happen again."

"I know you won't. I promise to not overreact and become a hateful drama monster if it accidentally does."

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes while Max stroked my hair and I gripped her waist, hoping that nothing would pull us apart again. My hopes were dashed when Papa came strolling through the door and gave us a disapproving eye.

"Sorry Papa, it's my fault." I sat up and interlaced my fingers with Max's so we looked more chaste. I really didn't understand the whole not being affectionate in front of the parents thing. We were both adults, mostly. Eventually we would find time and space to make out or even have sex. I knew it, Max knew it, and my parents knew it.

Perhaps it has something to do with the way they see us. I mean I am pretty grossed out when they are all lovey-dovey, maybe it's the same with them. Maybe it's just creepy looking to see your daughter and her girlfriend overly affectionate.

I smiled, sort of, at my thoughts. I'd just realized that was the first time I'd actually thought of myself as female. Then I frowned. It was also when I realized that I had been referring to Max in female terms as well, for a while now. The gender lines had blurred so much between us that I was confusing myself.

Papa disappeared into the hallway so he could go to the bedroom and change out of his suit. I swear I thought I heard him mumble something about hormonal kids, but maybe I was wrong.

"Max?"

She shifted a little so she could see me better and started to run her thumb over the back of my hand. "Yeah baby?"

"Do you mind if I think of you as a girl?"

Her chest moved when she smiled, like she was trying to contain a chuckle. "Think of me any way you want, just as long as you think of me as yours."

I lay my head on her shoulder with a sigh. "How do you think of yourself?"

She shrugged a little. "A girl. I like being strong like a guy and being treated like a guy. I also really like having you as a girlfriend, but knowing that you're a boy too." She paused. "How do you think of yourself?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I just now thought of myself as a daughter and girlfriend, but I thought of you as my girlfriend too. Does that mean that I want to be a girl?"

Max's free hand covered mine making a sandwich our hands. "Do you?"

"I don't think so."

"I guess that answers your question."

Another couple of minutes passed and Papa came back in and crossed to the kitchen. He eyed us and I waved my fingers.

Squeezing Max's hand, I looked over at her. "So… secrets?"

She looked uncomfortable. "It's a long conversation. We really don't have much time tonight."

Okay, that was fair. "Give me a couple of highlights."

She breathed out, kind of steeling herself. "My dad is Maxwell Slade."

The name meant absolutely nothing to me. "Okay."

"Slade Investments?" she said like it would spark some memory of mine. When I still gave her a clueless face, she offered more. "It's one of the biggest investment firms in the world."

I thought about that for a moment. "Was that the logo I recognized behind the reception desk at that salon?"

She nodded. "Dad owns that building."

"The whole building?"

She nodded again.

"So your family is rich."

She snorted. "Uh yeah."

"And this is a big deal, why?"

Max sighed at my reaction. "Most of the people that I get involved with, once their families find out who I am…"

I laughed in disbelief. "You think I want your money?"

"No, I know you don't. Everything I try to give you, you try to give right back."

I kind of understood. "I get it. Really. You didn't know me or my family that well and you were just being cautious, so you don't get used."

Max was embarrassed. "Pretty much."

"So you really do know people that know people."

She nodded. "Well, through Dad mostly. He knows everyone. Presidents, CEO's of major corporations, he's got Bill Gates on speed dial in case he has computer problems, congressmen, senators, everyone."

"Wow."

Max gave me a moment to let that sink in.

"So, why are you in public school?"

She shrugged. "I don't really like private school, and I was raised with tutors. When I started high school I wanted to be with regular kids my own age, that weren't… you know."

"Snooty?"

"Yeah."

I nodded. "So buying me that pen, the clothes, it really wasn't anything for you."

"Not really. My allowance is considerable. I never come close to the monthly cap."

Something didn't seem to be right about everything she just told me. "If you are so scared of people taking advantage of how much money you have then why were you showing it off to me?"

Max drew in a sharp breath in humor. "I wasn't showing off, really. If I wanted to show off, I would have been driving you around in Dad's Viper, or the Ferrari. If I want to show off I could have bought you one of your own."

I frowned. "I don't think I'd like that."

"I know. That's the reason I got you the pen. It's useful and thoughtful and it's the best. You deserve the best."

Laying my head on her shoulder, I stared down at her grip on my hand. "I don't want the best. I want you." Realizing what I just said I quickly sat up, horrified I'd just screwed up again, but Max started laughing.

"Thanks. I needed that."

Max left me with a little to think about. I did some research on Maxwell Slade and Slade Investments. She really didn't do her father justice. He had offices around the world and advised the point-oh-one percent of the richest people on Earth how to invest their money. The latest economic debacle started by the last president and congress and screwed to hell and back by the latest, didn't phase the customers of Slade Investments in the slightest.

Now I saw why companies catered to him, gifting him with expensive toys and products like the makeup kit that Max had given me, which by the way was now back in my room, along with the stuff that I regrettably tossed at my ex-ex-girlfriend. I tried to tell her that I didn't deserve it to be given back, but she insisted and wouldn't take no for an answer. As far as she was concerned, the fact that I gave everything back was more than reason enough to return it to me.

I'm still confused about that logic.

Feeling confident enough with my practicing I started my journal, updating everything that had happened to me over the last three days. Let's just say that my hand hurts for writing so unnaturally. It's not the prettiest handwriting in the world but I could see improvement page after page.

Tomorrow would mark the end of the first week of school. Max and I decided to take the day off. The story that Grant Strongholme's researcher called about didn't run that evening and I seriously had doubts about whether or not the ACLU had been contacted. Regardless, I'd had two overly emotional days and I wasn't going to put up with any more abuse at the hands of Der Fá¼hrer and his Gestapo, otherwise known as Parsons and his guards.

Instead, Max had promised to spend the day with me doing whatever I wanted. Considering I'd worn almost everything in my closet that wasn't considered casual clothes, I wanted to do a little shopping. Wearing nice outfits for the last two days was kind of addicting. Going back to jeans and a poet's blouse was making me feel less feminine. As scary as it is, I had grown to like the dress and skirt. I liked the way my legs felt when I wore them.

It made me laugh when I thought about how I'd snapped at Max in the mall parking lot about wearing skirts and heels. Now, here I was wanting more, wanting to be even more feminine. I didn't just want an organizer bag, I wanted a purse. I wanted to have my ears pierced and wear dangly earrings. I wanted to have my nails extended. I wanted to wear sexy underwear and go to Victoria's Secret so I could find silky night clothes. I'd finally found my own personal heroin and it was called femininity.

Of course, I'd never be able to afford all of this, even with my nest egg. I could buy tons of casual clothes, but I wanted very nice dresses and suits. Regretfully they cost real money and I didn't want to blow my entire savings on clothes.

I'd have to work at it, just like every other girl in America, building up a wardrobe over time, buying things that would stand the test of time and weren't going to be out of style the week after it entered my closet.

Armed in comfortable clothes and my goddess sandals, so my ankle wouldn't suffer anymore torture, I ran out to meet Max in the driveway.

I kissed her hello and gave her a chance to bow out. "Are you sure you want to come shopping? You could just drop me off at the mall if there's something you'd rather…"

"Shh… I like shopping. Besides, you need to someone along to tell you how beautiful you look in all your new outfits."

I glowed at her praise. "Okay, but you have to promise me something."

"Okay, what?"

"I'm paying for my clothes, not you."

I could see she wanted to object, but she nodded in reluctance. "I promise. I have something for you to promise also."

It was only fair. "Okay."

"Dad has these… parties every month. They're not really parties as much as a social event where everyone gets together and kisses everyone elses butt. Clients attend and they all network or whatever they call 'scheming' these days. I always have to be there as heir apparent, so they can get used to me and don't bail on the company when Dad retires."

I blinked. "He's retiring?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Not anytime soon. And even when he retires in like ten or fifteen years, he'll still be Chairman of the Board, so it's not like he's leaving or anything. I'm digressing."

Max took a breath. "Since we're dating, he wants you there."

That took me unaware. "Uh…"

"Believe me, it's not something that I'm really happy about."

"Why now? I mean we just started dating. As far as he's concerned I could be a fling."

She shrugged, kind of embarrassed. "I told him about us."

"Well obviously. He sent that makeup kit."

"No, I mean…" she sighed, defeated. "I told him that you were the one."

Apparently my brain wasn't fully engaged. I'd only had my juice about fifteen minutes ago. Sometimes it takes a while for the sugar to kick in. "The one what?"

Her face was turning beet red and she couldn't meet my eyes. "Sasha…"

"No really, I'm not getting what you're saying. I'm the one what?"

"The one for me. I'm done looking for anyone else. You're it."

Ah, there's the sugar. The implications of what she'd just said were finally reaching the inner recesses of my brain. She wanted me to spend forever with her. "Oh."

My dream a couple of nights ago wasn't exactly a dream anymore, or at least it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. According to Max, sometime in the near future, she was going to ask me to marry her.

"Oh my God." I realized that I'd stopped breathing and finally my lungs protested with a sharp inhale, but my throat was tight as well. I waved my hands in front of my face in a feeble attempt to introduce oxygen into my chest. I wheezed.

"Sasha," asked a very concerned girlfriend. I looked at her and kept waving as my lungs slowly eased back to normal. "Are you okay?"

"I… I…, " I nodded. "You just…," wheeze, "took me by surprise."
Max smiled and relaxed. "I realized yesterday when you dumped me that I just threw away everything that was important to me. I couldn't stand the thought that you wouldn't be mine." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "I told my dad that I loved you and to stop trying to set me up with his friends sons."

"Wait, what?"

"He's been doing this. Every time a party comes around he sets me up on a blind date, or what he calls an 'escort' to the party. He didn't know we were serious. So I told him we were, or rather that I was, that I didn't want anyone but you."

When it was apparent that we'd reached a certain point in the conversation, Max started the car and pulled out onto the street.

I took a little time to compose myself. "Don't misunderstand me here. I'm really happy about what you told him, but…"

"What does this have to do with you shopping today?"

I nodded.

"You'll need some evening gowns, shoes, jewelry, the works. I know you have a limited budget to work with and I promised not to mess with you on that, but since Dad wants you there, I insisted he pay for the stuff you'll need."

"What'd he say."

Max winced slightly. "He raised the limit on my check card."

That didn't sound right. "I thought you said that you never reach your limit."

"I don't, but we're talking about starting from scratch. Twelve months means twelve parties, which means at least twelve outfits, I think you get the point."

I felt like I was joining the mob or something. "How much does something like this cost for one party?"

Max was paying attention to the road, but I could see that she didn't like talking about money in a sense like this. "Uh… you have to keep in mind that the people that come to these things are like uber rich. They don't shop at stores like we do."

"Tailors… you're talking about designer dresses that are meant to be worn once and then take up space in a closet until the end of time."

"Exactly."

"So we're talking about a serious amount of money," I concluded.

"Define serious."

I raised an eyebrow at that one. "What I would consider serious, not you."

"Oh, well, yeah. Pretty serious."

I shook my head. "I swear, it's like rich people live on a different planet."

"Will you let me buy the things you'll need?"

I frowned. "What if I just wore something simple. It doesn't have to be…"

"The others would eat you alive. It's like high school all over again."

I laughed wryly. "You make it sound like court intrigue at the royal palace."

Max paused in thought then nodded. "That's a very apt description. Think of my father as the King and me as the Crown Prince, or Princess, whichever."

"That would make me the commoner."

Max wasn't deterred. "Think of it more like Princess Diana."

"We are not amused."

Laughter filled the enclosed space of the Corolla. "Now you're getting into the spirit."

"Will it always be like this?" I asked seriously.

"I could give it all up, and Dad would let me. We could go live in the mountains and live off of the land, whatever we could hunt, some berries maybe. But to tell you the truth, I like the challenge."

"So I can look forward to this for some time. Picking china patterns, visiting the country club and stabbing my fellow rich wives in the back whenever I talk about them, having an affair with the pool boy, and generally being snooty?"

I really liked Max's laugh. It made me feel alive when I heard it. "Not exactly. You could do that if you want, but I think of you more like the rich wife that goes out of her way to help those that are in trouble, being an ambassador of good will, donating your time to worthy causes. Again I'm thinking Princess Diana-like."

"I could do that?"

She nodded. "Dad gives millions to charity each year. He's founded several foundations for education and research. In just about every Ivy League college there's a building with his name on it… and mine too for that matter."

There was one thing that Max hadn't mentioned. "What about my status?"

"What about it?"

"A crossdresser as part of the royal family? Won't the blue bloods revolt?"

She shrugged. "They'll probably be some talk behind our backs, but there's one thing that you haven't taken into account."

"What's that?"

"The one thing that the ultra rich love more than anything else, more than politics, or social status."

At my inquiring looked, she told me. "Money. As long as we are making them more money then they could care less if you were a drag queen in ten inch platform shoes and sequins. They won't dare treat you badly if it means losing the ability to make themselves their precious billions. And Dad can afford to tell them to take a hike. He can always find someone to take their place, then they have to take their chances with the Bernie Madoffs of the world."

I looked out of the window and watched the world pass by. "What do I need to do?"

"Not much, just more shopping is all. I'll call our tailors and set up a time so you can go get measured. We can buy some of the jewelry at Fred's and Jared's in the mall. Some shoes too. You need your ears pierced, definitely. That's about it."

"You make it sound too easy."

"Yeah," she agreed. "When you're rich, it is."

"Well, I'm not rich."

She grinned and shot me a happy glance. "You will be."

Max's comments about her intentions stayed with me throughout the shopping trip. My life, after the average day to day living of your average teenager, seemed to be moving at breakneck speed. While Max seemed to know exactly what she wanted for her own future, I was nearly blinded with the possibilities of my own.

We spent an hour and a half in the jewelry stores and after trying on virtually everything in the store, the sales lady had a mound of bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and rings sitting to the side and was very near salivating at her commission. I was almost scared to see the receipt that Max signed away at with barely a glance.

Shoes were next. That morning I'd replaced the wad of gauze on my ankle with one of those gigantic knuckle bandages that looked like a fat "H" to prevent any chance of it slipping and further injuring my ankle. That meant that I was able to try on about fifty pair of shoes at Nine West, Cole-Haan, and Johnson & Murphy. We'd left with about fifteen pairs of various heels, all horribly expensive.

When asked about why she purchased the extra pairs, it was explained that we didn't know exactly what the designers were going to come up with and the shoes that we bought were basically a ground floor beginners collection. Generic shoes that could go with a lot of different styles. If we needed something specific to go with a special dress then we'd deal with it when the time came.

I was somewhat suspicious of a few purchases that Max said I could use for daily wear or to social gatherings if said gatherings were casual. Then it all started to make sense. The parties weren't the only events I would be going to. I'd be, for lack of a more socially acceptable term, Max's arm candy. Once it was known who I was, there would be expectations to fulfill. Without realizing it, I had just fallen into the slippery slope of accepting any and everything Max wanted to buy for me. All she'd have to do was say it was for something that her Dad wanted her to do and poof free stuff.

I wanted to put a halt to it, but I also realized that Max had expectations and that I'd led her on by accepting everything with an eager nod. She'd all but proposed to me in the car sitting in my parents driveway and I went right along with it in shocked excitement.

Now she was treating it like the happy event was a foregone conclusion that was only missing a few undone items, namely the proposal, my acceptance, and eventual marriage.

Frankly it wouldn't surprise me if the 'designer' just so happen to design a wedding gown.

Now tell me that isn't breakneck speed. In the span of four days I'd went from pushing cloud shapes into recognizable forms to picking out drapes for our home. No, that's not breakneck, that's ludicrous speed.

Mall security escorted us out to Max's car and watched as we drove away with Max's check card leaving a smoking trail behind us.

"Proud of yourself?"

"Hmm?" asked Max with a completely innocent face.

"I asked if you were proud of yourself, but I'll elaborate."

Sensing another smack down, Max's shoulders dropped.

I just grinned. "Don't worry sweetheart. I'm not mad. I'm actually kind of proud of your ingenuity."

"What'd I do?"

"You just got me to accept everything you wanted to buy for me without actually taking credit yourself."

"I did?"

"Uh-huh. You knew I wouldn't take your money or gifts unless there was a darn good reason. So one happen to come up."

"Dad's really having those parties and everything I said is true." She defended herself nicely.

I nodded. "Oh, I trust you, honey. But you also snuck in a few things that I didn't necessarily need for those functions too, right?"

"But… once you start coming to these things, you'll wind up going to other events: socials, birthday parties, ribbon cuttings, everything."

I leaned over as far as my seatbelt would allow. "And how will I be introduced at these functions. What role will I be playing?"

"Uh…"

"Something to think about, Max. I'm not your fiancé quite yet. There's really no need for me to come to these things. You're grooming me to become the future Mrs. Slade, but you and I know that you have to go through my father before any of that happens."

I kissed her on the cheek and drew back in my seat, quite pleased with myself.

It was well past lunch when we returned home. Max helped me unload the packages and even went so far as to hang everything up and store away all of the shoeboxes. The jewelry stayed in the boxes they came in until I could afford to go out and purchase a decent place to store it.

Once we had the mess cleaned up, Max looked a little less green around the gills due to the thoughts of confronting my father. The whole 'meeting the father' drama was only a couple of days ago and Max had barely come away from that unscathed. I could only imagine how she was going to go about asking my father for my hand in marriage, so soon after asking permission to court me. Basically, the whole idea gave me a happy.

There's one good thing about having parents that work. They weren't at home when you wanted to make out with your girlfriend, in your room, on your bed.

My jeans were tight enough to where they'd be really hard to get off without my cooperation and my top was loose enough to allow ease of access if needed. So I was more than relaxed that my virtue would remain intact. While I was raised to believe that I should wait until I was married before having sex, I wasn't a prude. I was technically still a boy and my hormones were still in high gear when it came to sexual stimulation. In other words, the feeling that Max gave me while she was laying on top of me, kissing my lips, neck and jaw line, while she was gently massaging my breasts, well, lets just say that I was sorely tempted to chuck the whole chastity thing out the window.

Thank goodness for the phone call that brought us back from temptation.

I took a deep breath and calmed my voice before answering. "Hello."

"Sasha Petrovitch, I presume?"

"Uh, yes. May I ask who's calling?"

"Maxwell Slade. I believe you are familiar with my daughter, Maxine."

I looked over at Max on the bed, glowing with unspent desire. "Yes, sir."

"It seems my daughter has turned her cell off and I am trying to contact her to see if you two are available for a meeting this afternoon. Judging from the notification I received from the bank about an hour earlier, I also presume that you assented to Maxine's desires regarding her future social calendar."

A questioning glance from Max and I responded, mouthing, 'your dad!'

Her eyes widened and then closed as her head hit the pillow and a small groan was issued.

"Yes, sir. When would you like us to come by?"

"Say an hour? That should give me enough time to wrap up a few things and give Maxine enough time to brief you about how controlling and domineering I am." He said the last with a little humor in his voice.

"Uh, yes, sir. She knows where you are at?"

"The office. I believe you were able to take advantage of some of our amenities recently." Without waiting for me to confirm he closed the conversation. "I look forward to meeting the person that has so completely mesmerized my daughter. Goodbye, Sasha."

The phone clicked before I even had the chance to say goodbye. I scowled at the phone, and Max laughed a little. "Don't worry, he does that to me too."

"We have to be at his office in an hour." I looked down at myself. "Oh my God. I'm meeting your Dad and I don't have a thing to wear."

Max looked over at the closet. "We just got back from shopping. You have several things to wear." At my panicked look she hopped up from the bed. "Don't worry. Dad will love you just the same as me. Come here, I know just the thing to wear."

I wasn't even aware I was changing in front of Max until I'd dropped my jeans and stepped into the white high-waist mini bandage skirt, and saw her all but lick her lips. I blushed. "Sorry."

"Don't stop on my account."

With a teasing grin I whipped off the poet blouse and slipped on the twisted racerback top that I tucked in the skirt before sipping it closed.

Max frowned. "You were supposed to take off your bra first."

I grinned and reached behind me to undo straps. With the shirt being almost tank style, it wasn't any trouble to withdraw my bra from underneath. "Ta-da!"

"It's not the same." She handed me a belt that I looked at for a moment before turning it the proper way. It matched the cream color of the top and the thing had to be four inches in width. Wide belts were back in for high-waist articles. Another tuxedo jacket made its way into my wardrobe, but this one was short-sleeve, cropped short and had no buttons.

I left it off until I had redone my make up. My eyes were cream colored to offset the white of the jacket and skirt and to match my blouse. I also elected to go a shade lighter with my lips. When I was through, Max looked seriously impressed.

"You're so quick with that now."

"I practiced a lot."

She held out my jacket for me. "Thank you."

"Don't forget your heels."

I cringed, but then saw which pair Max had pulled out. It was reminiscent of the cage sandals that I wore the other day, but not quite as crazy with the directions the straps took. Zippered in the back and sitting high on my ankle, it didn't dig into the band-aid. With a sigh of relief I stood and almost fell over.

"Whoa, how high are these heels?"

She just grinned at me. "Four and a half inches. You'll be fine, just hang onto me."

"Ah, I see your evil plan now. You're making me totally reliant on your support." After a moment I grinned as well. "I like it. Plus I'm freaking tall for once." When Max closed in, I was still looking slightly up at her, but not nearly as much as normal.

"You're at perfect kissing height."

I sniffed haughtily. "Don't mess my lips up. I just did them."

She sighed in reservation. "You have enough makeup to give an army a makeover. Get over it." With that, she pressed her lips to mine and we enjoyed another short session where I was able to finally see the advantages of wearing high heels."

We were starting to run late, and I had to fix my lips in the car. When I was done, I dropped my gloss and hand mirror into the gigantic silver-studded slouchy hobo bag that Max insisted I bring. It matched the outfit, but I didn't really have much to carry around, so I stuck my journal inside along with the clutch and my pen pouch. If nothing else, I'd have something to do if I got bored.

Wanted to glare at Max for making me wear the silver cross at my neck and a diamond cluster ring on my right hand and mixed metal bangles on my left, but since I would be able to only wear studs in my ears, she said I needed some bling. The ring was exceptionally awesome, by the way. The only thing I was worried about was the thought of getting too used to wearing all of the expensive jewelry. Diamonds were a crossdresser's best friend after all.

I was fond of emeralds as well when seeing the look in Max's eyes after I held some dangly drops from my ears while we were at the jewelers. She said that they set my eyes off, being that they are green as well, and that seriously turned her on. That was enough reason for me.

After a while I rationalized the whole thing as making Max happy. If me getting all dressed up and sparkling made her happy then I'd let her do what she wanted.

The office building again loomed tall in the sky, ominously. This time I waited for Max to open my door as I wasn't going to chance faceplanting in the parking lot. The blacktop was hot and I was wearing white.

The clicking of my heels was even more obvious as we entered the building and crossed the marble floor. The security guards nodded at Max and I while we made our way to the private elevator. She selected the top floor this time and I held on to her bicep trying to control my nervousness. Not knowing what lay before me in terms of how Mr. Slade was going to treat me was somewhat daunting.

I could be treated like Max's girlfriend, in which case I'd be okay. However if Mr. Slade decided to treat me like his daughter's boyfriend then I was in for an experience somewhat like what Max had with Papa.

The elevator dropped us off into a rounded off entrance of sorts, enclosed with glass walls. Beyond them I saw a secretary's area to the left and the rest of the floor was Maxwell Slade's office. It was beyond overkill. Plasma screens were surrounding the entire floor with stock tickers for every conceivable market around the world, all the cable business channels, and several that were simply blank.

An area to the right held a universal weight machine and treadmill, there was an open bar halfway down and in the center on the far wall was most probably the biggest desk I'd ever seen.

"Dad doesn't get out much. He spends all of his waking hours here. So, of course, he has to have all the amenities of home."

"Uh-huh. And you want to inherit this?" I said with quite a bit of uncertainty.

"It has its perks."

"Maxine!"

Max cringed. "I really hate it when he calls me that."

My grip tightened on her bicep as she led me forward into the dragon's den. Max's father looked nothing like her. He was overly tall, enough so that I could really judge exactly how tall he was. Maybe the mid-six foot range. I wouldn't call him overly athletic either, but he was healthy enough. The salt and pepper in his hair was complete, making him look older than the age I found online of thirty-eight.

His smile was genuine enough as well as the raking of his eyes over me. I could see a slight amount of surprise in his eyes, but he masked over the reaction quickly.

Max leaned into a quick kiss on his cheek. "Dad, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Sasha Petrovitch. Sasha, my father Maxwell Slade."

Releasing Max long enough to shake her father's hand wasn't difficult. It was him holding on to it that was making me lose my balance. Max's hand found its way to my lower back and suddenly I was confident enough to teeter on virtual five inch heels. I know they weren't that tall, but I'm a round-up kind of girl.

"Maxine wasn't exaggerating when she told me how beautiful you were, Sasha." His words rang true which made the blush I was currently experiencing all that more intense.

"Thank you, sir."

He glanced at Max. "Sir? I like her already."

With the slightest bit of direction, Mr. Slade tucked my hand in at his elbow and he escorted me over to the left side of his office which was partially obscured by a pair of hands sitting in the middle of the floor. Well the hands were about seven feet tall and five wide. Modern art, what can you do?

What he revealed was a comfortable living area, sort of. Two couches faced each other and on each side four single chairs faced each other, all of this was squared around a really large glass coffee table. Informal meetings came to mind. Much like what we were doing there. When he led me to the couch facing the window, he allowed me to sit. "Would you like anything to drink: coffee, soda, water? We have everything."

"Water would be nice, thank you."

He looked up at Max and she didn't even bother to acknowledge anything, she just crossed the room to the bar. I crossed my legs and smoothed out the skirt that rode just a little too high for my comfort.

"Maxine told me how you two met, and I must say that I found it quite entertaining. There aren't a whole lot of people that can stump my little girl."

The thoughts of our first day at school and Max's cluelessness about my gender brought a smile to my face.

"She's told you all about me I assume?"

He nodded and leaned back, hooking an ankle up on his knee, very masculine like. "We don't keep any secrets from each other, Sasha. Truthfully, I can see how she would assume certain things."

Crossing my hands in my lap, I licked my lips. "It's okay, Mr. Slade. It's widely known that I am technically male. You can say it. I won't be offended."

A smirk came up on his face and I could tell he was trying to keep from laughing. That's when Max showed back up. "Here you go, baby."

"Straightforward and blunt, Maxine. Just like you said."

"Told you." She sat next to me and leaned in. "Dad thought that you'd be uncomfortable with him knowing that you're a boy."

He leaned forward and took the cup of coffee that Max brought him. "Especially when you introduced Sasha as your girlfriend. That threw me."

"I'm thinking of myself in that way now, sir."

"I see." He shrugged. "Whatever makes you and my daughter happy, I suppose." After taking a sip of his coffee he set it down and removed a keycard from his jacket pocket. "Maxine, that item that you asked for is in my secure desk drawer, along with a couple of things I thought you'd like Sasha to have."

Max's eyes lit up and she grabbed the card. I watched her make her way over to the desk with curiosity on my part.

"Nothing extravagant, Sasha. Maxine has already told me of your aversion to gifts. This is more of a convenience for my daughter's sake as well as my own. So if you'd accept, I would appreciate it greatly."

Mr. Slade's eyes were just like Max's. That's what she inherited from her father. Those intense blue eyes that could talk anyone into anything. Now I could see one of the reasons Slade Investments was so successful.

I smiled ruefully. "I'm finding it increasingly difficult to say no to your family, sir. Max always finds ways around every roadblock I erect."

He laughed out loud at that. It was genuine and heartfelt and reminded me of Max's laughter as well. "It's a family trait. We always get what we want, when we truly want it."

I crooked an eyebrow at him, wondering if I was the latest in acquisitions for the Slade family.

"Dad, quit sounding like this was all part of some master plan of yours." Max said from halfway across the room on her way back. She'd tucked something into her pocket and held a puffy manila envelope in the other.

"Ah, Maxine, my pride and joy, of course it was all part of a master plan. I purposely arranged for you to attend the high school you are at for the sole reason that you might meet someone that would intrigue you. Thought I do admit I didn't think it would happen this quickly." He shrugged. "But, life is like that sometimes. Opportunities present themselves and you just have to take the reigns."

Once Max returned she handed me the puffy envelope. I gave her a questioning glance and she shrugged. "I don't have a clue. This one's all on him."

He made a gesture at the envelope and I went ahead and bent the little metal bindings back to unseal the top. Normally I would have just upended it, but since I was wearing white that probably wouldn't be a good idea. Instead, I reached inside. My hand closed around something and I withdrew it to find a cell phone identical to Max's and behind it a key card like the one she uses to access the elevator in the building we were in.

"Max told me you didn't have a phone." I was about to protest the extravagance of the cell. It wasn't like a 'grab and go'. It was state-of-the-art. However, Mr. Slade cut me off before I could say anything. "You're part of the family, for the most part, Sasha. Unofficially at the moment, but still. I must insist that you have this safety measure. It's not a gift, per se, but a way to let Maxine and I know that you can contact us no matter where you may be, just in case."

See what I mean about working around roadblocks?

"Like it our not, I am a very influential person, and have acquired many enemies in the past that would like nothing better than to see me fail. Nothing sordid, but business is business."

I was confused. If there was nothing sordid then by definition I wouldn't be in any kind of danger.

"Not sold yet, I take it. Then let me give you an example. Let's say for instance that you are alone at the mall, shopping, and you are approached by a major news organization, like Fox Business Network. What would you do?"

I blinked. "Pardon?"

Max set a hand on my thigh. "It happened to me when I was living with my mom. It wasn't Fox. It was some stupid tabloid reporter that wanted to know my reaction about Dad's affair with a Maxim cover girl."

"You're kidding."

She shook her head. "Turns out that it was 'leaked' by one of Dad's competitor's in a stupid attempt to make him look bad. This was when my parents were starting divorce proceedings."

Mr. Slade took over the tale. "Maxine kept her wits about her and called me. I told her it was bull and arranged for security to escort the 'newsman' off the premises."

I frowned yet again. "Okay. I'll keep the phone." Yet another roadblock busted. "The keycard, I get. Thank you."

He nodded. "The salon you used the other day is available to you anytime. Maxine and I use it regularly as well as most of my executives. It's just a perk and it gives the girls downstairs something to do. So if you don't use it then they stand around bored all day…"

"Fine." I shook my head and giggled. "I have to leave. Pretty soon you'll have me taking trips around the world in a private jet for my own good."

Mr. Slade held up his hands. "I promise, just one more thing and I'll leave you alone."

I lifted my brow. The envelope was empty, or I thought it was. Looking inside I saw a key at the bottom. This time I did upend it. It was a car key with the Mercedes logo stamped on the fob. I looked at it wistfully for a second and then dropped it back inside. "Thank you, but no."

I set the envelope on the table and grabbed the water Max had gotten me for a nice long swig. That had been a really hard decision. Before meeting my girlfriend, I'd seriously wanted my freedom, and that was acquired by the purchase of a car. Spending the majority of my nest egg to buy new clothes pretty much killed that dream for the near and not so near future. Now it was dangled in front of me. A freaking Mercedes. My chest hurt when I put that key back inside the envelope.

Mr. Slade's eyes dropped and his face lost the humorous smile he'd been holding. I had a feeling that not a lot of people told him no and got away with it.

This time I cut him off, which come to think of it, that probably didn't happen to him much either. "If there is anyplace important to be then I'll be with Max, and she has a perfectly good car. Otherwise I'll be at home."

"How about if she's sick?"

"Then my mom can drop me off so I can take care of her. I've also been walking to school for years so that's not an excuse either."

Not to be refused quite yet, he kept throwing scenarios at me which I shot down one after the other.

"I'm sorry, sir. I really appreciate you thinking enough of me solely on Max's word about my character, but I can't accept a car. This is one roadblock that you can't break."

"Told you," said Max.

"Sasha?"

I looked at those blue eyes of Maxwell Slade. That was my first mistake.

"Mercedes-Benz SL63 AMG in Storm Red with Black leather interior. 518 horsepower, goes from zero to sixty in four point five seconds. Retractable hardtop with all the bells and whistles." His eyes bored into me. "Key is in that envelope. Car is downstairs."

Oh shit. "Max we've got to go, now." I stood on shaky knees. "It was nice to meet you, sir. We'll have to come back when my willpower is stronger. Which probably won't be anytime soon."

Max glared at her father. "See you later, Dad."

Mr. Slade stood like nothing had happen. "It was nice to meet you, Sasha. Come back anytime."

When we were safely secure in the elevator and dropping at a fast rate I decided to start breathing again. "I feel like I was just tempted by Satan. All I had to do was sign over my soul and everything would have been just hunky-dory.

"Dad has that affect on people. I told him you wouldn't take it no matter what he said."

Max's phone took that moment to ring. I nearly jumped out of the roof of the elevator.

"Hello."

"…"

"Very funny, Dad. See you for dinner. Bye."

"He's got the quill ready for me to sign in blood on the dotted line?"

"Pretty much. He says that he really likes you and wants me to propose as soon as possible."

"Oh, okay."

Max laughed beside me.

My heart sped up as we left the parking lot and I saw the Mercedes in one of the front spots. By the time Max had driven me home I think my blood pressure had returned to normal. It was gorgeous. We sat in the driveway and I knew Max had to go to avoid the worst of the rush hour traffic.

We'd kissed for a few minutes and then right when I was about to open my door she reached her hand out. "Hold on a second."

I turned back to her and saw that she had a serious look on her face. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I wanted…" She looked like she had something to say, but hadn't decided what words to use. Finally she gave up in frustration. "Look, I'm not really good with romantic words."

She reached into her pocket and then paused for a second. "This isn't what you'll think it is, so don't freak out okay?"

I nodded and watched as she withdrew a small ring box. Okay, I was seriously glad she warned me. I would have really freaked out otherwise.

"There's kind of a tradition in our family that goes back four generations so far. This'll make five. When the… well usually the first born male of the family, in my case me because I don't have any brothers on Dad's side of the family… I'm screwing this up. My brother is on my Mom's side when she remarried he had a son…"

I nodded, understanding. "I get it. Just breath, Max. Everything is okay."

She smiled. "Thanks." She did so. "Anyway. I'm representing my family in this generation." Holding her hand out, she opened the case and inside sat a beautiful three diamond ring set in platinum. The diamonds weren't gigantic, but they weren't small either. "My great-great-great-great grandfather gave this ring to the lady he was courting at the time who would later become my many times great grandmother.

"He couldn't really afford to get married at the time and set off to make his fortune so that he could support her properly. This was the sum total of his life's savings and his commitment to return and one day present her with a proper engagement ring. It took him two hundred and fifty days to do this."

I grinned. "That's so sweet. He must have loved her a lot."

Max swallowed and after staring at the ring this entire time finally looked up at me. "The tradition is that from the day I give this to you, in two hundred and fifty days, if I haven't driven you away or driven you insane, I promise to present you with an engagement ring of your own. It's a promise ring, Sasha. Will you accept it?"

"Sasha, please set the table. Your father will be here soon."

I was still blown away by the pre-proposal, or promise, or whatever you wanted to call it. It's one thing to see the handwriting on the wall. Max had all but told me that she wanted us to be married sometime in the future and I'd all but agreed, however to have her come out and cement that thought with something tangible.

"Sasha!"

I looked up from the couch. "Yes, Mama?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Are you well?"

I nodded.

She gave me a weird look. "Then set the table, child, your father will be home soon."

"Yes, Mama."

She stared at me all the way into the kitchen, watching me as I withdrew the proper amount of plates and silverware and set them on the table, dispersing everything to its assigned place.

"What's different about you today?"

"Hmm?"

"Did something happen today? I thought you took the day off from school to avoid that Nazi assistant principal of yours."

"Oh, uh… Max and I went shopping. Do you like my new outfit?"

She looked and brushed it aside. "Yes, it's very nice. However that is not what I am seeing. Did Max buy you things today?"

My brain decided to focus at that point. "Um, yeah, but it was for something her father has going on. He wanted me to accompany Max to one of his business dinners and its for, like, the super rich. Max didn't want me to feel out of place so he got me a few things so I'd fit in better." At her look I cut her off before she started in on me. "It's not something I can use everyday, Mama. Don't worry. I'm not taking gifts… well I am, but not like you think.

She frowned. "Explain yourself. You're not making any sense."

I sighed. "Can we wait until Papa is here so I don't have to repeat myself. It's kind of a long story."

The front door opened and I nearly sighed again. So much for putting off that conversation.

Mama went to give him a hug and kiss. "Hurry and change. Our daughter has explanations for us tonight."

Papa eyed me. I grinned, or at least I tried to. It didn't really come across very well. He shook his head and made out for the bedroom.

"Open the wine, Sasha." I followed Mama's orders and went to the wine closet. We didn't have a cellar. We didn't drink that much wine, but that which we have is fairly good.

"What are we having tonight, Mama?"

"Musaka."

Ugh. Musaka is a Serbian dish… well, it's all over the Mediterranean area too, it's served widely in Serbia. It's Papa's favorite. It's kind of a pie with minced meat, eggplant, zucchini, potatoes, carrots, and whatever else happens to be laying around at the time. It's nasty.

I picked the appropriate red, because you really needed something pungent to get rid of the taste and take away the smell from your breath after eating it. Musaka nights were pretty much the times that I go back for thirds on wine. I'm not an alcoholic, really.

A very sharp and loud intake of breath followed by the crash of glass made me look up at Mama. I was in the midst of screwing the corkscrew into the neck and noticed what she was staring at. Oops.

Her hand was covering her mouth and I swear her eyes were about to drop out of her head, they were so wide.

"Mama, no. It's not what you think."

Her voice came in a heated rush. "Exactly what am I supposed to think? Did you…"

"No. It didn't fit anywhere else."

Her eyes bored into me searching for any sign of deception. "That," she point at the ring finger on my left hand. "Will be the first explanation you present tonight."

She stepped over the broken glass. "Now, give me that and hide that hand until you explain. I do not want to have to deal with your father on this issue. He will castrate…well, I suppose he'd have to do something else to Max, and it would not be pleasant."

Point taken. "Get the dust pan and sweep up the glass."

Have you ever seen someone in four and a half inch heels try to squat down to sweep up a mess. I looked ridiculous and almost fell three times, over balancing.

"Is everyone alright, I heard glass breaking," said Papa when he went to find his seat at the table.

"I broke a wineglass, Papa."

He nodded. "Well, be careful Sasha. Don't cut yourself."

"Yes, sir."

Mama poured him a glass of red while I finished ridding the dustpan of its contents and washed my hands.

"Now, what's this about explanations?"

I made sure to keep my hand out of his line of sight while I sat. Mama looked at me very expectantly. "I want to show you something, but first…" I sighed. "Max promised to be faithful to me today."

That kind of took Papa off guard. He looked at me weird. "Was that in question? I can never tell with today's generation. Is it common to not be faithful."

"Shush," Mama snapped.

He looked at her and saw how serious she was, then he turned to me.

I gave him a weak grin. "I mean that she made our relationship more… um, formal."

Now he was interested and I was unsure if it was in a bad way or not.

"We made promises to each other not to… um, look around for anyone else, until sometime next year, May, when he plans on asking your permission to marry me."

Mama palmed her face. Papa gripped his fork and knife. I think I may have said that wrong.

"You're engaged!" roared Papa.

"No! No!" I countered. "It's a promise to one day ask to be engaged. "It's just a promise."

He looked at me and then looked down. "Where's your hand? Let me see it."

"Papa, Max gave me a promise ring. That's all it is. It's tradition in her family to do that before asking…"

"Your hand, Sasha." He was very insistent.

I cringed and brought my hand out of hiding, holding it up for him to see the ring Max gave me. He studied it for a moment and then set his silverware down to reach for the Musaka. "It's a very nice ring, Sasha. Though I would prefer it were on another finger."

"What?" Mama almost yelling incredulously. "That's an engagement ring."

He glanced at her and then back at me. "Will you have it resized?"

I shook my head. "It's a family heirloom going back four generations. I can't."

Papa nodded. "Very well."

Mama looked back and forth between us several times. "You're going to let her wear that?"

"Of course. I approved of Max and he is being very traditional in his values. I would have given you a promise ring myself, but I was in too much of a hurry to make you mine, Dusho moja."

Mama melted a little at that.

"All this says is that Max is very serious about our daughter."

We made it halfway through dinner while everyone pondered the idea of me being married off sooner than we'd thought.

"Sasha," Mama said. "You mentioned that Max bought you some things, but that ring, if that ring is an heirloom…"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I got distracted." I dabbed at my lips with my napkin. "Max's father has these client parties, networking things really, but families come. Since Max and I look like we're going to…" I let the engagement and impending marriage thing hang in the air, unsaid. "Well, I'm supposed to accompany him and be introduced around. Max says that she's supposed to take over the company when her father retires and she's supposed to basically step into his shoes…"

Papa nodded. "You are the next generation and he is solidifying his company's future for you and Max. He sounds like an intelligent man. What sort of industry is he in?"

I was kind of surprised that Papa didn't already know. "Um, financial investments."

He looked impressed. "Really. In this market? CEO's are looked upon worse than lawyers these days. Have I heard of his company?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Slade Investments?"

Thank goodness Papa swallowed or he would have choked. Instead he wheezed and grabbed at his wine glass, emptying it quickly before refilling it and sipping once more.

"You know of this company," asked Mama.

He nodded. "I didn't connect the names. Max's father is Maxwell Slade?"

I nodded and Papa looked like Christmas had come early. "You have my permission to marry Max."

"What?"

"Papa!"

He looked at Mama. "Sasha will never want for anything ever again. She will be well taken care of. Maxwell Slade is one of the richest men in the world, Dusho moja."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not after Max's money, Papa."

"Of course, Sasha. I didn't say you were, but you can't fault me for wanting the best for you and Max can most certainly provide it."

I just put my hands in my lap and sighed.

He stopped for a moment. "I noticed you are calling Max, 'she', now. Did something change again?"

"Papa, Max doesn't care which pronoun you use."

"I'm asking if you are going to take his name or if he's going to take yours."

Now I was getting frustrated. "Papa, Max hasn't proposed! And I wouldn't accept right now if she did. It's too early."

Mama nodded. "You're right, Sasha. Your father is teasing you."

"No I'm not."

"Hush, Dusho moja. We've been sidetracked. Sasha was explaining about her newest gifts."

I pursed my lips and kept staring at Papa. "An evening gown, shoes, and accessories. Things for social events." My tone dropped in annoyance.

"Excellent idea. You need to be taken seriously," observed Papa. "You can't do that with the clothes you kids wear today."

I looked down at the skirt suit I was wearing. Mama patted my hand. "You look fine, darling. Very posh."

"Thank you, Mama. At least somebody noticed."

I took another drink of wine, emptying my glass, before I stood. "I'm full." I wasn't really, but the topic of conversation had killed my appetite.

"More for me," said Papa merrily going back for seconds.

I'd changed into a new sleep set in a silky deep scarlet color when Mama showed at my door.

"Writing in your journal again, Sasha."

I capped off my pen and spun around in my chair. "Hey, Mama. Yeah, just updating today's drama."

She came in and sat on the bed nearest me. "You'll have to forgive your father. He is very happy for you, you know."

I shrugged. "I guess."

Mama studied me, critically. "How are you child. Are you happy?"

I nodded and then stared at my ring. "Max makes me happy. She wants to give me the world." I grinned, remembering her father. "Mr. Slade tried to give me a car today."

I think she was getting used to hearing the weirdest things from me, she just acknowledged what I said. "I am surprised that you didn't accept. I know how much you've wanted one these last two years."

I laughed to myself. "More like six years. It was too much. A Mercedes, really nice too."

"You saw it."

"Uh-huh. When we left his office, it was in the parking lot."

She sighed. "Sasha."

Looking up at her, I saw Mama's caring face. "If you are serious about Max, and I believe you are, then I will allow certain considerations."

"Pardon?" I was confused.

"If you are to enter this lifestyle then you need to become accustom to what it entails."

"What do you mean?"

"Depending on the reason for their gifts, your father and I will allow you to accept. It would not look proper if you associate with the Slade's and look well out of their socio-economic bracket. I will leave it up to you and your good judgment. You have not failed to meet our expectations in this area."

That kind of surprised me, but I saw where she was coming from. Picking up my hobo bag, I undid the magnetic clasp and reached inside to a certain small pocket and pulled out the cell phone Mr. Slade gave me. "They forced this on me today. I haven't even turned it on yet."

"A mobile phone?"

"Their called cell phones, Mama. Mobile's are those things that you can carry around with you inside the house, like the one in the kitchen." My parents are technophobes. It took Papa forever to grasp the concept of email, years ago.

"Turn it on."

I pressed the power button on top and waited for the screen to boot up. She poked around with it for a minute and handed it back to me. "It's very nice." I agreed.

After putting it on standby I set it on the desk. "He also gave me a keycard to the office building's private elevator and said that I could use the salon anytime that I wanted." I waved my fingers at her. "That's where I got my hair and nails done."

Braving the unknown I went ahead and told her about the gowns and jewelry. I think she thought I was exaggerating about the parties. When she saw the multitudes of shiny things Mama looked mystified. "Why on Earth would you need so much?"

"Apparently it isn't proper to wear the same thing more than once a year or something. By then it's out of style and you have to buy a whole new wardrobe. I gave up trying to understand about an hour into the trip.'

"How much did…"

"Mama, you don't want to know, really. "

"Sasha." She wasn't mad, just seriously curious. "I touched the gown. "This was twenty-five hundred."

Mama choked. "Dollars?"

I nodded. "It only gets worse."

"The jewelry?"

"I lost count at thirty-seven thousand and that was before Max got to the necklaces."

"Child, you can't have this here. What if we were robbed?"

I shrugged. "Max had the store fax over the receipts to their insurance company. It's covered."

"Why so much, this time?"

"Her mom got all the jewelry in the divorce settlement, and Max only wears small stuff, a watch, maybe earrings. She said we had to start from scratch. But it was a one time thing… well, barring engagement rings and wedding rings, but that's for the future."

Now I could see her nerves were showing. "If you don't feel safe with all of this here, I could ask Max to hold on to it and just have him bring me whatever I need."

She looked up at me. "You wouldn't mind?"

I shook my head. "No, not at all. It kind of creeps me out having all of this in my closet anyway. Hold on a second." I reached for my cell and dialed my girlfriend's number. I didn't even get halfway when it suggested that I select numbers from memory. Apparently someone pre-loaded it with numbers they thought I'd call.

Max answered on the second ring. "Sending the new phone on its maiden voyage?"

"You're my first call."

She laughed. "I feel honored. It this business or pleasure?"

"Business sort of. Would it be okay to store all the goodies we got today at your place. I'm paranoid we might get robbed."

Mama crooked an eyebrow at me for taking the blame for the move. "That's not true Max. It's me that is the cause."

Max laughed again. "Tell your mom I said hi, and hold on for a second. I need to check on something."

"Max says hi. She's going to check if its okay, I guess."

I waited for a couple of minutes before she came back on the line. "Sasha, Maxwell Slade here."

"Hello sir."

"Are you free tomorrow morning while Maxine and your father go golfing?"

My brain went blank. "I think so."

"Excellent. You and I can get to know one another a little better without my daughter hovering and shooting me looks every thirty seconds. I was thinking of showing you around the country club. Perhaps introducing you to some of the people you'll be interacting with in the future."

"Uh…"

"Excellent. I'll be there in the morning, say eight o'clock?"

"Uh, sir. I don't have anything to wear that will fit in at a country club."

"Hmm. I'll have Lauren drop off an outfit for you tonight. Maxine has your sizes?"

I swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Now on to business. Maxine told me of your concern about having so much jewelry on hand. I completely understand. I'll have someone come by in the morning to pick it up and we'll set aside a room here at the house for your use. Everything you'll need will be here. If you have any special requests Lauren's number is in your cell. She handles all of our personal needs. Don't think you are imposing on her. I pay her very well to be on call. It's all she does for Maxine, me and now you."

"Yes, sir."

I heard a welcoming sigh. "It is so nice to talk to someone that is so polite. I'll see you tomorrow morning, Sasha. I'll give you back to Max now."

I heard footsteps in the background. "Sasha, I'm so sorry about that. Dad insisted on talking to you. I didn't know he was going to put you on the spot. If you want, I'll get you out of it."

A little giggle bubbled out of my throat. "It's okay, Max, really. I suppose I need to do this sooner or later and I'll be bored to tears waiting for you and Papa to finish chasing little white balls around in the grass. It's all for the best, really."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I am. I'm just wondering about what kind of outfit your dad is sending over. That is so weird."

"Lauren is our personal shopper. Believe me. She knows what she's doing. Take her advice with anything. She's the best."

"Okay." After looking at Mama I made my excuses. "I have to go. I'm getting weird looks."

"Okay, baby. I love you."

My face broke out into a huge grin. "I love you too."

All I have to say was thank God I had breasts. It was probably the one and only time in my existence that I'd actually say or thought those words… except for when Max and I were making out yesterday, but that doesn't count. What I'm getting at is the tennis outfit that was dropped off. Mr. Slade and I were supposed to be on the move for the morning so he suggested something light and comfortable.

What I received was a white skort that barely covered anything and a jersey, for lack of something else to call it. It didn't have any sleeves and it had kind of a squarish neckline, but it was so straight that I thought it looked like something a basketball player might wear. My breasts actually let me pull the look off without appearing like I wanted to don some tube socks on and run on a lot of wood.

I pinned my hair up and went light on the makeup. Lauren, who's ability I sorely questioned, suggested I keep and wear the diamond studs and no other jewelry. I felt stupid looking. The only saving grace of the entire outfit were the cute tennis shoes. Flats! No possibility of me falling over because I stepped on a crack wrong.

What made the outfit bearable was the lightweight jacket. I suppose that tennis players had to make sure that they didn't 'cool down' for some reason, cramps or whatever.

She put together a 'social purse' as well. Inside was my clutch, cell, day planner, curiously with events already scheduled, and my pen pouch. That's it. I felt almost naked without a big purse or my organizer bag. It was tiny too, compared to my others.

"Do I look okay?"

Mama smoothed a hair that was escaping from one of my pins. "You look adorable, Sasha."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't like this outfit."

"Me neither," announced Papa as he looked disapprovingly at my legs and how much they were showing.

"It's the style, Papa." That was one of the only times I'd ever said that with an annoyed tone in my voice.

When I heard a car pull up into the drive, I looked out of the window to see… "Oh my God!"

It was the red Mercedes. He's torturing me!

Mama looked beside me. "That's the car?"

I nodded and groaned. "Mama, make him drive a old pickup truck or something."

She swatted me on the butt, and considering I was wearing a really short skort that didn't provide anything along the lines of padding, it hurt. "Oww," I said and rubbed my left butt cheek.

"Behave. Be gracious."

"Yes, ma'am."

The doorbell rang and I moved two steps to the right, opening the front door. "Hello Mr. Slade. Please come in."

He was dressed almost exactly like me. If I gave him the short skort and the basketball jersey and if I took his shorts and white polo we'd be twins.

"Hello, Sasha. You look great this morning."

"Thank you, sir." I turned halfway to my mother to perform the required introductions, and they chatted while I grabbed my notoriously small purse.

Right when we were going to leave, Mr. Slade pulled out a key from his pocket. "Sasha, you wouldn't mind driving, would you? I seemed to have left my drivers license at home today." I narrowed my eyes at him and he grinned knowingly. Of course he did.

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. and Mrs. Petrovitch, it was an honor. I hope we see each other again soon."

I was about to kick him in the shin, but considering that he'd gained another four inches in height since the last time I'd seen him, I didn't know if I could get away quick enough. The man was related to Godzilla, I swear.

When I pressed the key fob to unlock the doors I was expecting a beep or maybe a chirp, instead I was treated to a low warm humming that wouldn't sound out of place in a science-fiction movie when the good guys first meet an alien race. Truthfully, it was cool beyond words, which made it all the more worse.

My fingers slid along the side quarter panel over the rearview mirror and to the door handle. A tiny whimper sounded deep in my throat. I was pretty sure that I was the only one that heard it. My eyes flicked up to see Mr. Slade staring at me with a smile. I just narrowed my eyes again, opened the door, and hopped in.

I tried to ignore the sweet smell of new car and the ungodly beautiful black leather that was caressing the back of my thighs as I adjusted the automatic seat to conform to my not-so-long legs as opposed to Mr. Slade's genetically altered long ones. Who am I kidding? I noticed it all and nearly squealed with excitement. However, I wasn't going to let him see the large amount of drool that was leaking from the side of my mouth.

The rearview mirror was adjusted, the seatbelt thingie that made the torso strap dig into my breasts was adjusted, steering wheel and outside mirrors were set.

"All ready?" Mr. Satan… sorry, Mr. Slade asked.

I nodded and started the car. It purred at me like it was a Persian cat rubbing along my cheek. I am so screwed.

"See the buttons over the exterior light controls?"

I nodded.

"Press the "M" and then the "One" button."

I did so and nearly jumped when a voice sounded over the speaker system that sounded eerily like that girl that does the computers on Star Trek. "Welcome Sasha Petrovitch. Your personal settings have been stored into memory."

My eyes widened and I looked at Mr. Slade. "How'd it know my name?"

He shrugged. "I may have had it already programmed personally to you, but I'm pretty busy. I forget."

"You're evil. I'm not selling you my soul."

He smirked, like he'd actually heard that one before. Of this I had no doubt. "Too late." He looked at my left hand sitting atop the steering wheel. "Just letting you know that no woman that has worn that ring has ever refused the engagement ring that follows or the wedding that ultimately follows that. As far as I'm concerned you're already my step-daughter, so you'll have to forgive me if I want to spoil you."

"Well, I'm not exactly a real woman, am I?"

"Close enough. My daughter is utterly smitten with you, Sasha, and I don't like to see her sad. So, I'll do everything within my power and most probably what is not in my power to make sure that she is happy. You make her happy."

I set the gear shift into reverse and backed out of the driveway. "I love Max for who she is, not for how much she or you for that matter can give me. I loved her before I even knew she was your daughter."

"I know. She told me, and I have other resources."

Before putting the car into gear I looked at him. "What?"

He pointed on down the street and I proceeded, wary of how much power was under the hood.

"You understand my position in the world, Sasha. I can make or break anyone I choose. That's not bravado, it's just a simple fact. So you will also understand that I won't let just anyone into my family circle."

"I think it's more of a triangle actually."

He grinned a little. "Take a right and head north on the freeway." I navigated through the Saturday morning traffic. In other words there was barely a car on the road until I reached the freeway and entered.

Using simple logic it was easy to deduce that he'd run a security check on me and my family.

"Find any skeletons in the closet?"

Without missing a beat he answered. "Surprisingly few. Other than the obvious issue with your medical condition which you've been truthful about since virtually the beginning, your family history disappears into war torn Europe during the forties."

I knew that much. Official records were destroyed when the city we lived in was sacked and the building burned to the ground. Generations of Petrovitchs were born raised and died in our hometown. I knew we had family records for any history that we might want, but those were for family, not 'random background check guy #2'.

"Your immediate family is supposedly the first in generations to immigrate outside of Serbia to the United States, and your father is a self-made man in every sense of the word. He brought you and your mother over, the legal way, and staked a claim in the house you currently reside. The recent economy was a blow, but he picked it back up and actually improved his status and income. Your mother…"

"I know about my family, Mr. Slade, and it seems you do too."

"I'm just protecting my interests, Sasha."

I nodded in understanding. "I tend to take after my mother when it comes to protecting my family, Mr. Slade. I've also inherited my father's temper and stubbornness."

"Message received. We have an understanding then?"

I nodded.

"Good. That's one of the reasons I heartily approved of Maxine's choice." He breathed out a relieved sigh. "Now, are you ready to brave the old frontier?"

I hazard a glance at him in question. "Snobby rich people."

I snorted. Oops. "Yes sir."

He explained some of the rules of the country club so I'd understand when I broke them properly. "I'm not a big fan of social rules. The only thing I ask is that you treat others as you are treated and use courtesy and common sense when dealing with the unknown. Once you are introduced to certain people it won't matter if you insist on eating in the formal dining area dressed in a tennis outfit. They will overlook the faux pas and treat you with respect. I will hear about it though."

"I won't embarrass you."

"Thank you," he said graciously.

The grounds were amazing. I could tell that a lot of money and time went into creating the perfect place where rich people could get together and look good.

"Oh, I almost forgot." He pointed at the drive that led up to a gigantic building which I was guessing was the main building for the club. "You'll meet a number of people today that will try their best to invite you to parties, teas, and whatnot. Consult your planner. There are a number of people that are what I consider on a do-not-associate-with list I've compiled over the years. They are listed under the red tab."

"You're kidding. You're telling me who to be friends with?"

Without answering that specific question, he offered a reason in its place. "These people, specifically have tried their best to ruin me or others through illegal means or simple jealously. It's a warning, Sasha. Associate with them at your own risk and the risk of Maxine's future."

I shrugged. "Point taken."

"It may seem like I am trying to run your life, but you have to understand. You're like a large injured tuna in shark infested waters. Stay close to me or Maxine and you'll be fine. Don't make any firm commitments until we can brief you on the people we know. Then make your own decisions."

Oh no… valets! People I don't know touching my Scarlett! I cringed inwardly at the thought of already naming the car not to mention the idea that I'd lay claim to her. With a frown I stopped the Mercedes and set her into Park.

My door was already being opened before I even reached for the handle. A semi-tall Hispanic boy held his hand out for me as I unwound from the seat. I did notice his attention to my legs which kind of gave me a little thrill. Everyone likes to be noticed. I was no different. Mr. Slade was waiting for me with his elbow extended, which I took even though I didn't need the assist today. I was much shorter and more sure-footed.

"Good morning, Mr. Slade. It's a pleasure having you back with us today." One of the door men smiled and nodded.

"Thanks Jeffery."

"Miss." The doorman acknowledged me and I gave him a sheepish smile. I hoped that people didn't think I was dating Max's dad. He's about the right age for a mid-life crisis. Oh brother.

We breezed though the main entrance to a glass-enclosed office to the left.

"Mr. Slade. It's good to see you again," a seductive looking blonde said from behind a desk.

"Hello Jenny. This is Sasha Petrovitch my future daughter-in-law. Do you have the material I asked for?"

Jenny was already pulling out a folder. "Right here, sir." She opened it up and withdrew a black card. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Petrovitch. Welcome to Fallen Oaks. If there is anything I can do to ensure your membership with us is to your liking, please let me know."

Mr. Slade nodded and handed the folder back before taking the card Jenny offered. "We'll pick this up on the way out. I'm going to be showing Sasha around the grounds myself."

She nodded with a smile. "As you wish, sir."

On the way out he handed me the card. "That's your way into just about every door that's closed, barring employees only. Don't lose it."

I didn't have any pockets in the skort and my jacket pockets were just barely big enough for my hands, so I had to pause for a second to open my purse to dump it off.

"I'm a country club member," I said dryly. Mr. Slade grinned.

"Congratulations, you're officially a snob. How's it feel?"

I shrugged. "I think my butt kind of tightened up a little bit when Jenny handed me the card."

His laugh echoed in the wide hall. "All the better for Maxine, I suppose." I rolled my eyes bit and laughed a little at his joke.

"Care for some breakfast before we start the trek. There's a lot to see."

I nodded. After fretting about the outfit I was wearing this morning I hadn't had time to actually eat anything.

At the end of the hall we took a right and then our first left into a dining room where a few others were seating, having breakfast themselves. He chose a table near the rear of the room and after holding my chair out for me, sat cattycorner to me with his back to the wall so he could see everything going on in the room.

"You don't like not being in control, do you."

His eyes jerked to a stop from his surveying the scene and dropped to me. "It's not unusual for men of power to be a little obsessive."

I shrugged and opened my purse to store the membership card into a one of a dozen open slots of my clutch and then worked it back in the tiny purse. The organizer was next. Now that I knew what one of the color-coded sections was for I wanted to peruse the names.

"Someone was busy with this."

While the content wasn't full, by any means, it looked like I'd been using it for a while from the shear amount of information enclosed within.

A waiter appeared and we ordered. It was kind of weird not to look at a menu, but Mr. Slade assured me that they had virtually everything that I would want and if they didn't then they would have it no later than the next day. I was tempted to order a Serbian breakfast just to mess with them, but then I realized that the cooks were actual employees and not due my attitude, plus Serbian breakfasts suck.

"We have the information in those organizers in a data base. It was just a matter of having it printed out."

I looked at the pages and was surprised at the quality. At first and second glances, everything appeared to be handwritten. When I knew what to look for I could still barely tell that it wasn't. "Wow."

"That's your lifeline to our world, Sasha. Don't lose it. If you do, it could be replaced and there's nothing incriminating or anything like that, but considering the groupings one could deduce their meanings."

I nodded. "No problem."

"Do you have your cell?"

I pulled it out and he pointed to an application. "Press that one." It brought up a password screen. 'Type in Temporary5478 and change it to something that you'll remember and isn't easy to break. Alpha-numeric if possible."

I punched in the name of my favorite first grade teacher and the number of the street address of my grandfather in Serbia. "Figure that one out," I whispered to myself.

Once I was through the slash page there was an alphabet screen.

"Hit 'S' and enter." That brought up a boatload of names. "You could always type in the entire last name, but page down until you reach Maxine's name. It took a few seconds and a number of page downs, but I arrive and tapped my girlfriend's name. Her picture popped up and a prompt for profile and vital statistics flashed next to it.

"You're kidding."

"I thought it only fair to include us in the mix since I know so much about you. If you want more detailed information about anyone in your organizer then you have access to previously gathered resources."

Man, he didn't mess around.

"I'm working on a facial recognition software interface so all you'd have to do is take a person's picture if you didn't know who they were."

I laughed, half-heartedly. "Were you bored or something?"

"As trite as it may seem, Sasha, knowledge is power."

I looked down at the information on the screen. "This is kind of private, isn't it?"

He shook his head slightly. "There's no information there that you couldn't acquire though exhaustive searching using Google. This is just a concise catalog of people that Maxine and I associate with, and now you as well."

I pondered that while we waited for our breakfast and then ate in peace.

When Mr. Slade finished he set his linen napkin on his plate which promptly disappeared moments after. It wasn't magic, just really efficient waiters. One thing that I noticed about the people in the dining room. Everyone left everyone else alone. There was no social interaction like you see in the movies. Perhaps that was in a different area of the club.

Mr. Slade showed me the tennis courts where the Pro on duty tried to entice me into a quick lesson when I told him I didn't know how to play. He was told I had to tour the rest of the place first, but with the size of my breasts and the condition of my knees and ankles, I probably wouldn't be able to play.

The golf course didn't do anything for me, and I probably wouldn't be making much use of the swimming pool. Somehow I don't think I'd be welcome in a bikini or even a one piece unless there was some serious crushing of certain sensitive equipment.

When we'd worked our way back around to the main building I noticed that there were a lot more people inside.

"Ready to brave the storm?"

I think my brain melted. I must have been introduced to three dozen people. Mostly I remembered their last names. A lot of them were surprised to find out that Maxine was a lesbian. I let them have their fun thinking that I was just one of the girls. They'd find out the truth soon enough.

We took a different route home, and I don't mean my home. Mr. Slade wanted me to see where they lived and meet the security guards and household staff. Knowing that the Slade's were as rich as they were, it didn't surprise me to find out that they lived in the ritzy part of the city and behind gated walls. I'm not going into how nice the place was. I was overwhelmed and didn't really remember that much. What I do remember was the room that he said I could have anytime I wanted. I was to consider it mine if I wanted to visit or if I needed to get ready for some social or business gathering.

I was looking at the awesome bathroom when Mr. Slade stood in the doorway. "Sasha, I apologize, but something's come up at the office. I need to get in there."

I paused for a second. "It's no problem, sir. I can have my mom come get me."

He waved me off. "No need. You have the car now. It's already in your name." This time his face brooked no argument. At the office I could see that maybe he was testing me or something, seeing if I could be easily bought off, but there was something different in his eyes. Something that said, 'please don't argue with me, I want you to have it.'

I didn't say anything.

"Look, stay as long as you want. Take a nap, change, whatever. Our home is now your home."

I looked down, my face was heating up again. "Thank you, sir."

He stepped forward and hugged me lightly. "Call me Maxwell, or if that's too weird then Dad or something. I'll see you soon. We need to get Maxine and have dinner, just the three of us."

I nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

"I'll see you later then, Sasha."

"Bye."

"Hey, where are you guys at?" Max asked.

"I'm laying in my bed. I just took a shower to get rid of the ickyness. I think I've hugged too many people I don't even know."

"That's weird," she said.

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm standing in your living room waiting for you and Dad."

I covered my mouth and tried not to laugh. "I'm in my other room, at your place."

"Ah, things are becoming more clear." She chuckled and relayed my location to my parents. "Is Dad there?"

"He supposedly had to go into the office and left me with the Mercedes. I think it was his evil plan all along. He's probably at some strip club right now stuffing hundred dollar bills in somebody's thong."

"Oh, eww. Please don't put that picture in my head. As far as I'm concerned, Dad stopped having sex when Mom and him conceived me."

I agreed. "Makes sense. Once you have perfection everything is downhill from there."

"Aww. Stay right there. I'll be over in twenty minutes."

I frowned. "Right here? All I have on is a towel. I need to get some clothes. Do you think you can bring me some?"

…
…

"Max?"

"I'm sorry, what? You lost me at the towel thing."

I smiled at being a distraction. "Clothes. Can you bring me some clothes."

"Oh, uh, take a look in the closet."

I walked over. "I need street clothes not…" It was half full with regular clothes. "Whoa. Who did this?"

"Lauren."

They were probably sent over this morning.

"Okay, nevermind."

"I still want you to wait right there."

I grinned at her teasing. "My feet are tired."

"I'll rub them."

A giggle escaped from my lips. "I'll be waiting."

The odds of me acquiring diabetes from the pure sweetness of our relationship at this point in time was quite high. I couldn't imagine what we'd be like months down the road.

I wasted about five or ten minutes browsing the closet and the drawers around the room, most of which were about a quarter full. Lauren was fairly impressive with her hunting and gathering skills, but I suppose if all you do for a living is shop then you ought to be pretty good at it after a while.

A lot of the stuff was casual bordering on semi-casual. I'd imagine that the majority of the clothes that would be coming would wait until the tailor or whomever took my measurements and worked out a style for me. I was kind of eager to see what they'd come up with.

When I'd found the intimates drawer, I drew out a matching bra and panty set and dropped my towel to get dressed. Yes, I was teasing Max and I had no intention of waiting there in something she could have off of me faster than I could blink. I'm not that type of girl. She'd have to work at getting me undressed. Not too hard, but still.

The knit dress I found was too cute for words, but I'll try anyway. Scoop neck, fitted from the shoulders through the waist, medium-wise horizontal stripes in gray and black. Oh, and the sleeves were sewed to look like I'd pushed them up from elbow length up past the mid upper arm. They looked kind of poofy, but not really. The heels I found were amazing, and made perfectly for me considering the heel portion that normally digs in and makes ugly blisters was totally missing. They looked like boots without a tongue that laced up over my ankle. It had a strap that hugged right above my injury. I think I was in heaven when Max arrived.

"Aww. You're dressed." She frowned. "You look all perfect and I'm all sweaty and stinky."

I grinned at her. "You like?"

Considering the hemline didn't quite reach mid-thigh and the whole thing was form fitting she nodded eagerly. Papa would probably have a small stroke.

"Good. Go shower and change. I still need to do my makeup and Lauren was nice enough to provide. It wasn't Lica, but it wasn't the cheap stuff either.

I received a kiss and laughed at how much Max smelled like outside before she ran off down the hall to her own room. It only took me about twenty minutes to fix my face and I spent the rest of the time that Max was away looking at the basic jewelry that was in a row of boxes that lined the top of a mirrored dresser. There wasn't much at all, but I still had the diamond studs in my ears and the promise ring which I swore never to take off until it was replaced with something more permanent. I just needed something for my right wrist and maybe a simple necklace.

After choosing a drop necklace with a single diamond-like stone -- who was I kidding. It was probably a real diamond -- I finished off my arrangement with a really cute watch with a dial face that looked like it had black and white waves flowing through it.

I heard a wistful sigh from the side and I turned to see Max standing there with the goofiest smile on her face.

"What are you doing?"

"Wondering how much longer my luck is going to hold," she said.

Max was wearing white linen Capri's, a light blue camisole and leather sandals with no heel. It was a more feminine style than I'd seen her in to date. Her eyes were lined and she had a light lipstick, but that was it for make up. She'd left her hair down and I just about sighed myself.

"Yours and mine both."

She peeled away from the door and came to me. I was frozen by her feline grace. The movement of muscles in her arms and legs gave off a sense of predator and at that moment I didn't mind in the least that I was the prey.

My voice became breathy. "If you throw me on the bed and do what I think you're going to do then…" I stopped when her hands set on my hips and glided up my sides. She leaned in to my neck and took in my scent then set a light kiss on my neck.

"Then what?"

Her mouth, that close to my ear sent a shiver along my body that raised goosebumps on every inch of my body. Another kiss at my earlobe and I felt my nipples harden and become more than sensitive. By this time her hands were beside my breasts and her thumbs brushed over them. My breath shuttered.

"Um…" I lost all train of thought.

Max's left hand trailed back down and slid around to the small of my back, gently pulling me toward her until I felt the firmness of her body along mine.

Then her damn phone rang.

It jarred me out of the erotic stupor I was in and I would have stumbled back if Max hadn't caught me. The irritation on her face was almost comical. She took a calming breath and dug her phone out of her back pocket to see who she was going to have to murder in a most horrible way.

When she saw the screen, her face changed into surprise.

"Hello?"

I took advantage of the distraction to lean against the dresser and calm myself. This time I had remembered to tuck away certain baggage and it was quite uncomfortable at the moment.

"Um, sure. Hold on a second." I looked up at Max when she caught my eye. "It's a girl named Sarah Perkins."

I recognized the name of Grant Strongholme's researcher that called the other day.

"She want's to know if we'd be available to come down to their studio's for an interview."

I was too stunned to answer. Instead, I just nodded.

"She says yes."

Max wanted to take the Mercedes, but I let her drive. My head was off in the stratosphere at the moment and me driving in heels wasn't the best plan to insure our safe arrival. She had grabbed a blazer from her closet and we were zipping in and out of Saturday afternoon traffic following the directions from the GPS system that still sounded like the lady from Star Trek.

"Should I of changed?"

Max spared me a glance. "You're kidding right?"

I looked down at my outfit. "You don't think this is a little revealing?"

She chuckled. "Uh, no. It's perfect. There won't be any question as to how you should present yourself at school. When they see you in that, heterosexual guys watching the show will start questioning their sexuality."

I blinked. "Was that supposed to be comforting? I'm thinking guys lusting after me would be bad."

She shrugged. "It's not your fault that your parents make great looking babies."

That comment brought me down to Earth, believe it or not. Max was trying to ease my tension and by using our personal banter that sparked our interest in each other to begin our relationship in the first place. It was a comfort zone thing with me. By teasing me I felt a little more normal and not like I was going to be on T.V. in front of tens of thousands of people.

The GPS announced that we'd arrived and once Max found a parking place. It was moments later that I was holding on to her arm and clicking across the parking lot in four and a half inch heels, again!

We were met in the lobby by the researcher, 'call me Sarah'. She led us back, through the building and I got to see some of the studio that I'd only really seen on T.V. It was surreal. Max and I both were put into makeup chairs and then some other lady showed up claiming to be one of Grant Strongholme's producers.

"Hi, Sasha." When she saw me her smiled turned up to about half a million watts. "I'm Vivian. I'm here to get you into the swing of things for Grant." I didn't even get a chance to say hi back before she showed me that things move rather fast in the news business. "A timeline was provided by Ms. Slade and confirmed by you with Sarah here. Grant's going to ask you a few questions about that to warm you up. You don't have to go into massive detail, but be as clear and concise as possible."

Another lady started attacking me with an eyeshadow brush, darkening the make up I already had on.

"Oh! You're engaged! When did that happen?"

She'd obviously spotted my ring. "I'm not…"

"We'll have to work that in there later."

"But I'm not…"

"Don't worry honey, Grant will take it as easy as he can on you, but I can tell you from past experience that he likes to see girls cry. It's a whole male comfort thing. Helps his ratings in the women from twenty to thirty-five demographic."

"Crying? Why would I…"

"I'm off. If you need anything, water, soda, just let one of the assistants know."

The makeup lady set a hand on my shoulder. "Hold still, honey, or you're going to have smudges and we'll have to start all over."

"Max."

"Yeah, Sasha."

"If he makes me cry, you'll hurt him right?"

"No problem. Nobody makes you cry and gets away with it. Right, Sarah?"

The researcher flitted her eyes between the two of us. "Uh, I'll be right back."

The makeup lady snickered. "I think I like you guys."

I saw the label on the mascara she was about to use on me. "Hold it. What is that?"

"It's mascara, sugar."

I shook my head. "No I mean the maker. Who makes it?"

She looked like she'd been busted. I narrowed my eyes at her and opened my purse to withdraw my own mascara. "Use this."

The crap she was about to slather on my lashes would run like crazy if I did happen to cry. No, I did not want to look like a five dollar ho. She looked at it. It was one of the long-lasting waterproof items that Lauren picked up for me.

A few minutes later she was through with me and starting work on Max. I stayed right where I was and watched for any stupid makeup tricks. Max needed a lot more than I did since she wasn't wearing a whole lot to begin with. Eventually we were through and escorted to the studio set that was being touched up for the interview in classic afternoon talk show style, meaning the host was on the right in his chair and the guests were supposed to sit on the left.

"Max," I whispered to her as soon as I saw the chairs. "My dress is too short for this." I was hoping there would be a desk of sorts that I'd often seen on these shows.

"Make sure to cross your left leg over your right and keep your legs together."

I could figure out why they needed to be together, that was easy. "Why left over right?"

"Looks better. Otherwise it makes it appear that you have chunky thighs."

I pulled her to a stop. "My thighs are perfectly fine, maybe even too thin."

Max shrugged. "I know. Like I said before, I think you're hot. But remember the thing about cameras adding fifteen pounds?"

"Oh."

The assistant interrupted us at that point. "You can go ahead and have a seat. Mr. Strongholme will be out in a moment and we'll get this show rolling. Can I get you guys a drink?"

"Water, please, for both of us," said Max.

I looked around at the behind the scenes crew milling about while others were rushing to finish last minute things. Making sure my hemline was tugged down, I smoothed it out behind my butt and lowered myself as gracefully as I could. The end result wasn't too bad. I didn't bounce or anything, and my legs stayed together while I crossed them. All in all it was a successful attempt.

Once Max was sat, some guy rushed up and stuck some sort of handheld device in front of my face and called out some numbers. Then it was done again with Max.

"She needs some more powder on her forehead," someone called from behind a camera that was pointed directly at me.

The makeup lady appeared and brushed my forehead.

"That's good."

Little things like this went on for five more minutes. Some guy came up and hooked microphones up to us before skittering off. We did a sound check and then the host came out.

We made small talk for a few moments and got started.

During the introduction I tried running over the last few days in my mind so I remembered everything properly. Max set her hand atop mine and squeezed slightly. The result was my nerves calming slightly. I gave her a little smile in return.

"My guest this morning is the person caught up in the middle of all this mess, Sasha Petrovitch," said Grant before turning to me. "Sasha, thank you for coming on the show."

I nodded once. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Strongholme."

"Please, call me Grant."

His eyes were warm and his expression relaxed, which put me at ease. "I think my viewers might be a little surprised to find out that underneath that dress you are actually a boy."

Well, right to the point I suppose. "Yes, I am. I've never made a secret of my gender."

"Would you tell us about how you came by looking so much like a girl?"

Max squeezed my hand again, giving me as much courage as was possible.

"I grew up like any other boy, however I have a few medical conditions that weakened the density of my bones and created a treatable thyroid condition. The summer before my freshman year in high school," I gestured to my breasts. "Well, these started coming in. That's when my life changed."

"So you started dressing like a girl at that point?"

I knew he had all the answers to these questions already, but he was making it seem like he wasn't in the know. "No, that wasn't until recently. By the first day of ninth grade I had developed very noticeably. I wore a compression vest to hide what was going on and my doctor wouldn't give me permission to skip gym class."

"What's that?"

"The vest?"

I shrugged. "It's shapewear that pushes everything flat. It's made out of tight spandex. Very uncomfortable."

"I see. So your first day?'

I nodded. "In the locker room, I had to change into gym clothes and when the boys in class saw what I was wearing, thing escalated from there."

"Boys will be boys," he offered.

"No," I countered. "Boys will be vicious animals. Girls too for that matter. When I left school that day I had two black eyes, the inside of my cheek was cut open and required seven stitches, and I had several contusions on my torso."

"What happened to the boys in question?"

"Nothing. The boy that actually beat on me was suspended for three days then they let him back in. The others were just egging him on so nothing happened to them. I had to be out for the rest of the week."

"I assume you got your exemption from class soon after."

I nodded.

"Did your treatment improve over the years?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't been seriously attacked since then, but I'd always be pushed around in the halls, randomly hit, tripped, basically treated like I was inhuman, like I wanted to look like a boy with breasts."

I took a sip of water and after I sat the glass down he moved on.

"We're told that you have a nickname that's been attached to you for years."

I nodded again. "Tits." I realized I just cussed. "Sorry, can I say that?"

"I think it's allowable considering the topic," Grant said with his lips raising a little. "What did your parents do about all of this? Surely they wouldn't sit by and allow their son to suffer like this."

"No, they wouldn't. They didn't do anything because I never told them." I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "You know what its like to be a boy in high school. Unless there was blood involved, the teachers and administration really don't do anything, and it would only make things worse if I said something. Mom would ask why I'd come home bruised all the time, but I'd brush it off as unimportant."

"So you tried to fit in as best as you could?"

"I tried to stay out of the way and unnoticed. That's why I wore the vest."

"What changed this year?"

I smiled as we'd finally reached a topic I was happy about. "I met Max. Someone that looked beyond the surface and actually saw, me."

"This is the young lady that accompanied you today?'

I nodded. "She's been great. We met on the first day of school."

"What effect has she had on your life?"

I leaned forward a little. "The compression vest makes it so I can't breath properly if I get excited or try to overexert myself. That happened and I passed out. Max carried me to the school nurse." I grinned at her proudly. "After seeing that, she told me that she didn't want me wearing the vest, that it was dangerous."

"I'd say so," agreed Grant. "Kids passing out at school isn't exactly normal or healthy."

"As you can see, I've grown in certain areas and couldn't really pass as a guy if I stopped wearing my vest. So I decided that I wasn't going to hide who I am anymore."

"You admitted earlier that you were a boy. So how does that work?"

I almost snorted, but stopped myself. It wasn't exactly ladylike. "I'm a boy with breasts, Grant. How exactly am I supposed to dress? Sure the clothes nowadays are more gender neutral than ever, but boys shirts aren't made for girls figures."

"So you dressed like a girl?"

I shook my head. "No, I dressed in clothes that would fit my body. They happened to be girls clothes at the time."

He looked at me and cocked his head a little. "That's not what I'm seeing when I look at you. You're in a dress. You came to the studios today in with makeup already on and you're wearing high heels. That pretty much tells me that you're dressing like a girl."

"That came later," I admitted. "There is a problem with perception. When I wear girls clothes, people that don't know me see me as a girl. Girls are expected to look a certain way. Sure there are certain ones out there that don't care about their appearance and look sloppy and unkempt, but that's not me. If I'm going to dress a certain way them I'm going to look good doing so. That means makeup, earrings, heels if the occasion calls for it, and so on."

"And your girlfriend doesn't mind?"

I shrugged. "Ask her yourself."

Grant looked at Max who answered immediately. "I think Sasha is beautiful. I wouldn't change a thing about her."

"You referred to him as a her. Why's that?"

Max looked thoughtful for a second. "While Sasha is a boy and has never hidden that fact, we aren't hung up on gender identification. She presents as a girl so I refer to her as such. If she were to put on that stupid vest and boys clothes, I would refer to her as a him."

Grant turned to me. "That doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all," I answered truthfully. "You can call me a boy or a girl or use masculine or feminine pronouns. Right now, I'm both. I'm not trying to pretend or say that I am anything different. This is who I am."

"Others would beg to differ."

I narrowed my eyes, feeling the anger build slightly in my chest. "Yes, people like Mr. Parsons and his Nazi security guards."

"You're referring to the assistant principal of your school."

"That's right."

"Tell me about what happened between you two."

I related the entire sordid tale, virtually word for word at certain parts. When I finished Grant had a confused or possibly disbelieving face displayed. "Sasha, don't get me wrong, but I just can't see how a person in Mr. Parson's position would act this way."

I blinked, totally taken aback. "That's what happened."

He leaned back. That's your side of what happened, not necessarily the whole truth. My face heated and my hands started shaking. "I'm not lying. Why would I lie about this? Max, tell him."

I looked at my girlfriend and she had on her dissatisfied face. "You have the tape. I know you do."

Grant smirked a little. "Sorry, I have to play devil's advocate sometimes. I'm saying what a lot of people out there are saying to their televisions right now." He turned to face the camera. "I would like to think that we live in a more enlightened age, where any person, regardless of race, creed, color, or gender can receive an education in a safe environment. However, it seems to be the policy of Stanton High School and the Cypress School District to pick and choose who they teach. Why do I know this?"

Turning to another camera he held his hand out to Max. "Wednesday afternoon one of my producers met with Max, and gave her this brooch." Grant withdrew the fake brooch/camera and showed it to the cameraman. "Inside is a hidden camera that recorded the last event that Sasha described. And if I may say so, she did it virtually perfectly. See for yourself."

The red lights on the cameras all went out and Grant pointed to a monitor off stage in front of us. It was like reliving the whole thing all over again. It was from my perspective, but a little lower considering I was short and the pin was on lapel. That made the scene all the more ominous seeing the Nazi's were looming over me, looking intimidating, confident, self-righteous, and at the end, terrified.

When the scene jerked and saw Max and I leaving the grounds, I felt something being pressed into my right hand. A tissue. I looked away from the monitor and dabbed at my face and eyes. When I looked back up, Grant was staring at me with sadness in his eyes.

"Cypress School District was contacted for a statement and given the opportunity to send a representative, but declined. After seeing this, myself, I decided to do a little investigating on my own. We obtained the official police report regarding Sasha's injuries and complaint. Some interesting facts came to light and it looks like this whole incident was staged, a set up if you will, or dare I say a conspiracy to deprive a young man or young lady, as the case may be from an education."

He stood and walked to a big X on the floor, facing one of the camera's. "KPHX along with representatives from the ACLU and Slade Investments as of this broadcast will be working in conjunction to file a civil rights case against the Cypress School District, Mr. Parsons, the Superintendent Mr. Danvers and his daughter for their parts in last week's events. It remains to be seen whether the City's District Attorney plans to pursue a criminal conspiracy case. Their office has failed to respond to our questions regarding the case as well. Stay with us this week as we expose the corruption in our schools, our five part series on what our children are actually learning, or in Sasha Petrovitch's case, being allowed to learn. Good morning."

The lights on the camera cut out again and Grant came back to sit down. Leaning over to me he held out his hand and I shook it. "You might be interested to know that the District's attorney's called us this morning and told us that Parsons and Danvers have been suspended with pay until the investigation has been completed."

"Really?"

He nodded.

"Does that mean I can go back to school, Monday?"

She smiled. "I would think so. If anyone, and I mean anyone, student, parent, administration, or teachers, give you even a dirty look, I want you to call me. I'll have a crew out there within the hour." He handed me a card with his office number embossed on the bottom.

"Thank you."

"Feed me," I said with a silly grin while Max made herself comfortable in Scarlett's drivers seat.

"What do you feel like eating?"

"I don't care. Just nothing greasy. I don't think my stomach could take it."

"Queasy?"

"My nerves are shot for the year."

I wanted nothing more than to snuggle up under Max's arm and sleep for the next week, but I was hungry and it was still a while before dinner time. "Did they say when the show was suppose to air?"

"Monday, during the morning show."

I frowned. "I guess I'll have to tape it."

He looked at my purse. "Do you have your cell?"

I nodded and dug it out.

"Look for the TV application."

I went to the second page and found the little TV symbol and pressed it. A screen came up asking for local, cable, and pay for view. "You're kidding. I can watch it on this?"

She nodded. "Hit TV and page the schedule for Monday morning. Just set the DVR and watch it any time you want."

"I'll say it again. Rich people are so weird." As I was following her instructions I went on with my observations. "The toilet in my room takes the cake so far."

"Did you find the remote?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but come on, a toilet that opens the lid when you get near it, has a fan to suck away the smell, shoots water on your butt afterward and then blow dries it for you? Don't you think that's a little over the top?"

Max grinned. "The question is did you like it?"

"Well yeah, but it was really weird."

"The seat is temperature controlled so it will never be cold in the mornings, and you can link the remote to your Twitter account to update exactly how much and what you deposit."

I almost dropped my phone. "What! No way!"

She shrugged. "Okay, I lied about the Twitter thing, but I think it'd be funny." I flung myself back and laughed so hard my side hurt and she wouldn't stop. Her voice changed into a mockery of Hal from 2001: A Space Odyssey. "Good morning, Sasha. Your last deposit was one pound and four ounces. Analysis of the contents shows that you need to increase your fiber intake by five grams for optimum fecal consistency."

"Stop!" I giggled. "I hurt!"

"Will you be requiring additional water for cleansing? You know that you are leaving a large carbon footprint because you can't eat an apple. Think of future generations, Sasha. Think of the children."

"Max!" Now I was having trouble breathing.

"Okay, I'll stop."

It took me forever to calm down, as I was still erupting into giggles every time I thought of the stupid Twitter thing.

"I don't even have a Twitter account."

"Give it time. Pretty soon you'll be just as superficial as the rest of us."

"Never!" I declared.

Max chose a mom and pop restaurant that served a pretty nice grilled chicken salad in a relaxing atmosphere. Have you ever seen couples that sit on the same side of the booth at restaurants? I never understood why they do that. I mean, how can they talk to each other without comfortably making eye contact. I thought it was the silliest thing until I did it myself.

Here's the reason: body contact. All I wanted, after going through the drama of seeing Parsons' face again, was to be held by my girlfriend. So you'll see why I was currently snuggled up under her arm, with my head set on her shoulder right under her ear. It had to be the most serene place in existence. The feeling of acceptance and unconditional love eased every pain and every emotional ache I'd felt for the last three years.

"Feel better?"

"Mmm."

"Want to do anything else today?"

I sighed in contentment. "Can we stay here like this for a while?"

"In the middle of a restaurant? Uh, I guess."

I smacked her, playfully on the thigh. "I'm enjoying being with you, Max. I don't care what we do."

"We could go back home and put a movie in. Take it easy for the rest of the day, just you and me."

I sat up and grinned. "Perfect."

She tried to give the keys to me, but I refused. "You drive. I need to check in with Mama."

That actually went pretty well. She was excited that I was going to be on TV and even more excited to hear about the eventual downfall of the evil Dr. Parsons… Mr. Parsons and his band of do-badders. I told her about returning to school on Monday and that I was spending the rest of the day with Max. The only thing she asked was if I was going to miss dinner.

The Slade's had a home theater. No, not a home theater system, an actual theater. It wasn't near as big as one of those cinema screens but it was still pretty big. Regular theater chairs were set up in the front to seat about twenty people and then in the back were tables, and couches for those that wanted to have a meal with their movie. It was neat.

I chose the couch and Max put in an action movie before sitting down and allowing me to put my head on his lap. Soon after the movie started I was put to sleep by Max's fingers sifting though my hair.

"Did everything go well today?"

I shifted a little on the couch when I heard Mr. Slade's voice, but I kept my eyes closed.

"She was great, Dad."

"Good. I was wondering what was taking them so long to do the interview. Grant called me around lunchtime and told me about the series he was going to do on the school system and how he wanted to lead off with Sasha's story."

"Well, I don't think I could have asked for much better. He treated her with respect. I don't think she gets that too often."

"Maxine, with you behind her, I don't think that's ever going to be a problem again."

Max's fingers found their way through my hair again. I smiled and wormed my head a little in her lap.

"You probably think I'm nuts falling for her this quick."

Mr. Slade chuckled. "I think you're young, Maxine, not nuts. But I also think you've found a good person."

"I really love her, Dad." She sniffed and cleared her throat as quietly as she could.

"I can see why. Just make sure you don't let her get away from you."

"Not a chance."

"Speaking of getaways, did she do the driving today?"

"No, she made me drive."

Mr. Slade's voice turned humorous. "I've never had a more difficult time getting someone to accept a gift before."

"She's a conscientious person. It would be really hard to break her sense of what is right. She thinks it's not right that she's taking all of these things and not earning them."

"Hmm, well then I'll have to do something about that."

"Sasha's still in school, Dad. It's not like you can give her a job. Her parent's won't let her work during the school year anyway."

"Who said anything about a job. This would be more of a community project or something of the like. What's she interested in, something she's really committed to?"

There was a lengthy pause. "Her family."

"Give me a day or so to mull it over. I'll think of something. In the meantime you need to get her up or she'll never fall asleep tonight."

When I heard the door close I opened my eyes. "I love you, too."

Air hissed through her teeth. "I knew you were faking, you big faker."

I just smiled.

"By the way, I think you snore really cute."

I sat up and looked affronted. "I do not snore."

"Yes you do, and it's really cute." Max made really quiet inhaling sound and then topped it off with a single cute 'ka' sound.

I had no choice but to give her my put-upon look. "Fine, no kisses for you."

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say to someone that can pick you up like yesterday's laundry and flip you over in her lap while she attacked your neck and ran her fingers quickly along your ribcage.

"Stop! I'm ticklish!"

She froze for a second. "Your point being?"

"Um, that I'm ticklish and you shouldn't tease your poor girlfriend?"

"Nope, not good enough."

I screamed when she resumed her attack. "Max, stop! I need to pee."

She dropped backward, boneless. "You're such a girl."

Sitting up I wiggled my hem back down. "So. You like that." I slipped my feet inside my heels and started tying up the laces. When I was done, I stood and walked around to stand in front of Max.

She leaned up and set her hands on my bare calves. "You are so incredibly sexy."

"See. You like that I look like a girl."

"Uh-huh. And feel like a girl." Her hands ran up my legs sending feelings that I was going to do bad things if I stayed there any longer up my spine.

"You need to stop that. Your dad's home, and I need to go change. Mama and Papa will kill me if I stay out too late."

She sighed and dropped back again. I smiled at her then set braced myself as I leaned over way too far to kiss my girlfriend.

Max braced me with her hands on my hips and deepened the kiss. When I pulled away she moaned. "I don't want you to go."

Holding out my hand, I ignored her protest. "Come on. Go with me to change."

I found the cutest little yellow and white plaid romper hanging in the closet. Okay, I'll give Lauren a pass for the awful tennis outfit. Checking to make sure Max wasn't hovering I slipped off my dress and bra before stepping into the romper and pulling it up. Strings secured it in halter fashion, and I had to adjust my breasts into the cups provided. It felt good to get out of a bra once in a while.

Spotting some leather flip flops with little yellow accents, I slipped my feet into them. Ahh. Perfect. I felt almost normal again.

"You're killing me," Max said in pained disgust. How can you go from a stunning sexpot to ubercuteness in one outfit change? It's just not human I tell ya."

"Sexpot?"

Sensing a girlfriend faux pas, Max doubled back on her words. "Um, I meant stunningly sexy. I'm tired and I didn't get a nap. Can I have just a tiny break?"

Moving forward and into her, I raised up on my toes. "Okay, just one." I kissed her on the cheek. "I need to go say bye to your dad."

We found him in his home office. I swear, I think the man works all the time.

"Sasha, Maxine." He smiled invitingly.

"I just want to say bye. I have to get home before my parents send out a search party."

He stepped out from behind the desk. "I'm sorry to see you go, but I understand about how parents feel about their daughters."

Feeling a need to solidify a portion of myself I stepped up to him and gave him a hug. "Thank you for taking me to the country club this morning, and for the membership."

I didn't even make it to his shoulders, and my hands didn't go very far behind his back. Mr. Slade made me feel so incredibly tiny next to him.

"Anytime, Sasha."

Backing away I looked up at him and smiled as I took Max's hand in mine.

"I'm going to walk her out, Dad."

"I'll be here, goodnight, Sasha."

When I turned back, I finger-waved at him. "Bye Dad."

That may have threw both of them for a loop, but Mr. Slade asked me to call him that only this morning. Imagine my surprise when he looked dumbfounded for a moment and then grinned back. Like I said once before, it's the little things that make life worth living.

The End, for now.

Author's Note: There's the turning point with Sasha and Max's life, the prologue if you will. I left a few unresolved issues, but for the most part it stands by itself. I do have plans to continue this story, a year later in their future. At this point it's just day to day living and Sasha learning to deal with living in two lifestyles (Rich and Not so rich). What she learns later is more important, and that's where I'll take this story next. So stay tuned for the sequel sometime in the future.

Photo Credit: as I forgot to post this in the first section, I'll do so now. Kayleigh Hendricks.