Edited by Don (Thanks Hon)

Part 6 -

Ingrid rushed into the kitchen. She dropped her keys on the counter as she walked, not breaking stride as she headed for the stairs. She bounced up the steps and into the suite, slinging her purse onto the bed as she headed for the bathroom. After a quick stop at the toilet, she cranked up some music and turned on the shower.

She took a long time in the shower, shaving everything and giving her hair a good wash and conditioning. It was stifling hot in the bathroom when she got out, so she put her hair up in a towel, wrapped another towel around her chest and headed out into the bedroom to let the steam dissipate. It was cool in the bedroom and goose-bumps erupted all over her body from the sudden chill. Ingrid sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed moisturizing lotion all over. She enjoyed the feeling of the smooth skin of her legs as she rubbed the lotion in, luxuriating in the sensation. Once the moisturizing was done, she got up and put on her silk robe before sitting down at the vanity to dry her hair. Luckily, her hair was very short, and took little time to dry.

Ingrid studied herself in the mirror. She did look quite a bit like her mother, but there was a touch of her father there as well. The only person she really had a hard time seeing was Richard, who seemed to have disappeared completely somewhere along the way. She tucked her legs up, sitting on her calves in that oh so girlish way and lit a cigarette. She sat there for a little while, just listening to the music and enjoying the moment of calm before she had to seriously start getting ready. Ingrid glanced up at the clock. Five hours until Thomas is supposed to pick me up, she thought, then put out her cigarette and got up to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, she was walking out to her car. She had chosen a pair of Stella McCartney Skinny jeans and a black turtleneck, topped off with a D&G suede jacket. Since the weather was cooperating for January, she was actually able to wear a pair of Brian Atwood leopard print pumps that she had wanted to wear for the last three weeks. It was cold outside, not bitter cold like it had been, but cold enough she was thankful she only had to walk from her car to the mall in this outfit.

Ingrid, it appeared, had underestimated the cold, and found herself shivering as she walked into the galleria. It was crowded, like most Saturday afternoons, but she didn't have time to worry about the crowds. She had an appointment at the salon, and some heavy pampering planned. Despite being on an important mission, she couldn't help but notice the looks she was getting as she strutted through the mall. Her heels clacked loudly as she slipped into a catwalk sort of strut. It was impossible to keep from smiling.

“Ah, Miss Wolfe. So good to see you again.” The receptionist said. “Katrina will be with you in just a second.”

Ingrid smiled as she signed in. “Thanks.” She said cheerily, then settled down in the waiting area. She pulled out this month's German Vogue and started reading about the spring fashions. She was so absorbed in her reading, she didn't notice the two girls sitting across from her staring at her.

“Excuse me.” the blonde girl said.

Ingrid looked up, instantly putting on a smile. “Yes.” she said, slipping immediately into character, complete with the lighter accent she'd perfected. Second nature.

“Do you speak English?” The girl said.

Ingrid chuckled. “Yes. Good English.” She replied earnestly.

“We were wondering. Are you a model?” The girl said.

Ingrid didn't miss a beat. “Yes.” She looked at the girl. She was pretty, but not tall enough to be a runway model, and was probably asking because she had aspirations of her own. “Why do you ask?”

The blonde turned to her friend, who had pretty, long auburn hair. “I told you.” The blonde turned back to Ingrid. “You just look like a model. And you're reading, like, German Vogue. I knew you had to be! I want to be a model when I get out of high school.”

“You are very pretty girl. I think you would do fine as a model.” Ingrid said smiling at her. “And you.” She looked at the other girl. “Have lovely hair. I am getting auburn and extensions today.”

Both girls blushed. Ingrid smiled.

“Miss Wolfe, Katrina is ready for you.” The receptionist said.

Ingrid smiled at the girls as she put her magazine back in her bag and stood up. “Nice talking to you.” She said, then headed into the salon proper.

Katrina was standing next to her chair. “Hello again. So....” She said as she took Ingrid's bag and coat and hung them up. “What are we doing today?”

Ingrid sat down and waited until she had the cape over her clothes before she spoke. “I am going to a formal with my boyfriend. It is special night.”

“Well, then. Lets get started.” Katrina said, smiling.

While she washed Ingrid's hair, Ingrid couldn't help but think about the comments the girls had made about her being a model. Combined with all the other times she'd been told the same thing, it made her think that maybe there was something to it. She decided that she would call Uncle Red and ask him if previously being a model would be a bad thing or a good thing if she did take up his offer at the agency. Ingrid still didn’t know what to think about Red’s offer. It seemed like something she wanted to do, but she felt torn in so many directions right now that it was hard to make a choice one way or another. She looked up at Katrina and smiled, letting the simple pleasure of having her hair washed take her mind off such complex and difficult decisions.

“You look beautiful.” Aunt Janet said, then gave Ingrid a hug. Ingrid held onto her tight. She had never been happier, or felt more beautiful.

Ingrid beamed at her. “Thank you.” She turned and looked in the mirror. Katrina had worked wonders. Her hair, which was a short pixie cut this morning, was now long enough that she had it up in an elaborate up-do, complete with pearl hair clips. The plum organza gown set off her alabaster skin perfectly. She adjusted the over the elbow gloves and looked down to admire the pearl bracelet that had belonged to her mother.

Aunt Janet helped her put on the matching pearl necklace. “Lovely.” Janet said, smiling at her.

Ingrid checked her make-up, the plum lipstick was a perfect match for the dress. She had put on just a little pale, mineral powder to completely smooth out her already beautiful complexion. The false eyelashes were the hardest part, difficult to put on, but worth it. She looked more like her mother, and more like a model than she had ever thought possible. The most striking thing about her appearance, even beyond the dress, was her hair. The auburn with highlights looked near perfect with her complexion.

She couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

“I'm so happy. I’m worried Thomas won’t like it.” she said, touching her hair.

“I don't think there's a chance of that, dear.” Uncle Fred said. He had been standing at the door for a just long enough to take her in. The look in his eyes spoke volumes.

“You really think so, Uncle Fred.” Ingrid said, then looked at herself in the mirror one more time.

“I think he'd be fool if he doesn't. And the young man doesn't seem like a fool to me.” He said, cracking a smile.

Ingrid laughed. She turned and walked over to Fred and gave him a kiss on the cheek. With the tall heels she'd bought for the night, she was 6' tall, as tall as Fred, so she didn't even have to get on her tiptoes.

“You be careful tonight, dear.” He said. Fred smiled, a sort of lopsided little grin. “Now, I'm agreeing to let you go, despite the fact that this boy is several years older than you. But there is a catch. I have a car and driver for you two.”

Ingrid leveled her gaze on him and her eyes narrowed. “A babysitter?”

Fred chuckled. “Whatever you want to call it. Warren will ensure you get home safe. He's not there to keep you kids from having fun, and won't even report back to me unless there is trouble.”

Ingrid shook her head. “Ok. I don't have a choice, do I?”

The look in Fred's eyes answered that question.

“Thank you.” she said.

He just gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. The doorbell rang. Ingrid looked towards the door and she could swear her heart leapt in her chest. “He's here.”

Fred gave her a little squeeze then went down stairs to get the door. Ingrid picked up her clutch bag and quickly checked the contents. Phone. Wallet. Cigarettes. Lighter. Lipstick. Tissues. Compact. She looked at Janet, who gave her a little nod and a smile. Ingrid walked out of her bedroom. She had never been more excited in her entire life. She could hear Thomas and Fred talking in the foyer. She took a deep breath, then walked down the stairs.

She walked down slowly, taking each step carefully and it seemed to her for all the world like one of those slow motion intros women get in movies. Thomas was staring at her in awe. He looked great, she thought. His tux was well fitting, and stylish. His hair was groomed impeccably and he was wearing what looked like a new pair of tortoise shell glasses. Ingrid smiled at him and he beamed back at her.

“You look lovely.” he said, his voice low, almost reverent.

Ingrid felt herself blush. She looked down for a moment, then her eyes met his. “Thank you, Thomas.” She said, falling into the german accent. She descended the last few steps. “I see you have met my Uncle Fred. This is my Aunt Janet.” Ingrid said, gesturing to her aunt and uncle. Thomas shook hands with Aunt Janet.

“Yes. Your uncle told me he hired us a car for the evening. And with the way you look.” He hesitated, then grinned at her. “It's totally appropriate. You riding in my truck in that outfit would be a travesty.”

All of them laughed. His self deprecating humor was one of the things Ingrid loved most about him.

“Shall we?” He said, gesturing to the door. Ingrid walked over to the chair in the foyer and picked up her mink coat, a beautiful three quarter mink stroller with a sable collar and cuffs. It had belonged to her mother, and Ingrid had always thought it was the most gorgeous thing in her closet, political correctness be damned. Thomas, always the gentleman, helped her into the coat. He took Ingrid by the arm and led her to the door. “And Yes, I will have her home by two AM, as promised.”

Fred nodded, then put his arm around Janet and the two of them watched as the couple walked out to the waiting town car. The driver was standing next to the rear, passenger side door, waiting for them. He stepped over and opened the door for them. “Good evening. My name is Warren. I'll be your driver tonight.” He said.

Ingrid looked him over. He was tall, but not too tall, around 6'1”. He had a sturdy build, but not so large that he would look out of place in a suit. His hair was short, but not military. Her eyes met his for a moment and she saw a hardness there that she was quite familiar with. Ingrid smiled at him, and he easily returned the smile and gave her a little nod.

As soon as they were in the car, Thomas put his arm around her. “I can't believe how gorgeous you look.” he said, then gave her a kiss on the lips. It was intended to be a quick kiss, but their lips lingered and soon they were kissing passionately. They broke the kiss and looked at one another.

“Thank you, Thomas.” She said, smiling at him. “I am glad you like.”

He nodded. “I like. I like a lot.” He said, laughing. “Is that a real fur coat?” He said, running his hand across the mink.

She nodded, then wrapped it around her tightly. “Yes it is. It belonged to my mother.”

“Lovely. But it pales in your beauty.” He said.

Ingrid laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” She said, then gave him a quick kiss. “So, where to, first?”

He looked at her, then realized that they hadn't started moving. He felt embarrassed, then smiled and told the driver where they were going. “We have reservations at Ruth's Chris Steak House. I figured I'd splurge.”

“You are so thoughtful.” Ingrid said.

“I hope you don't mind, but we are supposed to be meeting Jeff and Shelly.” he said, sounding a little nervous, like she might not be pleased at the thought.

“I figured we would have company at dinner. It is what you do before formals, no?” She said, batting her eyelashes at him.

He laughed. “I suppose it is.” he said, then gave her a kiss. Ingrid cuddled up against his shoulder and enjoyed the ride.

“Warren.” Thomas said, a few blocks before they got to the restaurant. “Can we stop at a convenience store or something before we get to the restaurant?”

“Sure thing.” he said, then pulled into a Circle K. “This one do?”

“Thanks.” Thomas said. “I”m going to run in real quick. Do you need anything?”

Ingrid shook her head. “Hurry back.”

Thomas jumped out and headed inside. Ingrid watched him until her got to the door, then turned her gaze to meet Warren's in the rear view mirror. “Force Recon right?” Ingrid said. Warren gave her a double take. “Before you joined the company.” She said, then smiled.

He looked down for a second then looked up. She could see the smile in his eyes. “Yes maam. Force Recon. And now I work...”

“For Red.” Ingrid said. “I figured.” She looked at the store and saw that Thomas was standing at the checkout counter, and was the next customer.

“He said you were sharp.” Warren said. “He didn't say how gorgeous you were.”

Ingrid blushed, but didn't let it affect her body language. “Sweet talker.” She said. “Well, I'm glad you're one of Red's boys. I feel safer already.” She paused for a beat as she noticed Thomas approaching the car. “Even if you are a jar-head.”

Warren laughed, but did his best to cut it off as Thomas opened the door.

Thomas looked at Ingrid, and couldn't help notice the amused smile. “Looks like I missed something funny.” he said, sounding a little self conscious.

“It was nothing, sir.” Warren said. “I merely complimented her on her dress and she made a witty remark that made me laugh.”

“Sounds like her.” Thomas said.

They pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and right up to the front door. Warren got out and opened the door for them. Thomas got out, then took ingrid's hand as she got out of the car. She felt like a million bucks as they walked inside, and she could tell Thomas felt the same way with her on his arm.

Everyone in the restaurant seemed to be watching as they walked through, back towards their table. Ingrid felt like a movie star, or a princess. She saw Jeff and Shelly sitting at a table in the back, near a window. Jeff was wearing a nice, black tux and Shelly was in a blue, off the shoulders dress. Her hair was also in an up-do, that was really quite flattering. Jeff stood up as they approached the table. Shelly just sat there like the wind had been knocked out of her sails.

“Thomas.” Jeff said, shaking his hand. “Ingrid. You look fantastic.”

“Hi Jeff. Shelly, you are looking quite beautiful tonight.” Thomas said.

Ingrid smiled at Jeff. “Hello, Jeff. You and Shelly are both looking superb. I love your hair, Shelly.” Ingrid said. Jeff helped her shrug out of her coat and hung it up.

Shelly looked at her, a frown on her face, then tried hard to smile. “Thank you, Ingrid.”

Ingrid felt bad for Shelly. She had wanted to be the center of attention and Ingrid had swept in and stolen it from her. But, it was Ingrid's night too, and she vowed to be nothing but nice to Shelly, even if Ingrid's gloves cost more than that dress she was wearing. Ingrid chided herself mentally for such a catty thought.

Ingrid was just taking in the restaurant, when a waiter approached the table. “Good evening.” he said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Shelly ordered a fresh berry martini, Jeff ordered a gin and tonic as did Thomas. Ingrid was looking at the wine list, trying to determine whether she could get away with ordering one and not get carded. She looked at the waiter and smiled. He returned the smile quickly, and actually seemed to blush a little. Yes, she thought, I can.

“I would like a glass of the Belle Glos Pinot noir.” Ingrid said, playing up her accent for him.

“Of course, maam.” he said. “I'll be right back with your drinks.”

Ingrid turned to Thomas and winked. She sat and listened to the three of them talk for a minute, then reached in her purse and pulled out her cigarettes and lighter, placing them on the table. She pulled off her right glove, just like she'd seen her mother do every time she'd worn gloves like these. A lady never drinks wearing her gloves, she had said to Richard once, and she should remove her glove if she intends to shake hands upon first meeting someone. Richard had no idea why she had told him that, but maybe it was a message for Ingrid that she just wouldn't receive for several years. She smiled then pulled a cigarette out of her pack.

Thomas glanced over and picked up her lighter, then clicked the Givenchy while she leaned in to light her cigarette. Thank you, she mouthed, then exhaled a thin stream of smoke towards the ceiling. Their drinks arrived a few minutes later. Ingrid just sat, enjoying the feeling of being there with Thomas. She wasn't paying attention to what they were talking about.

Ingrid was looking around the restaurant, taking in the atmosphere and mainly, wondering what she would eat. She had forgotten to eat anything all day and it was really starting to get to her. The half glass of wine didn’t help. She pulled her attention back to the table and looked over at Shelly. Shelly noticed Ingrid looking at her and seemed irritated. Ingrid smiled.

“How have you been, Shelly?” Ingrid said. “It has been a while since we have spoken.”

Shelly seemed to warm up a bit. “Fine. School was a nightmare for a while, exams and all. Then Christmas break and the holidays. I’m just trying to get back into the swing of things at school.” Shelly laughed. “How was your Christmas?”

Ingrid smiled at her, then rounded the cherry of her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. “Good. I spent Christmas with my Aunt and Uncle. It was lovely.”

“Where are your parents?” Shelly asked over the rim of her martini glass. “Germany?”

Ingrid froze for a moment. She was not expecting a question about her parents. It was like cold water being poured on her. “My parents are dead. They were killed a couple of years ago.” She said quietly.

Shelly froze. She hadn’t expected that answer and it rattled her. She seemed to be a girl untouched by heartache, and the idea that others have suffered completely alien to her. “I’m...I’m sorry.” She said. Then the inevitable. “How did it happen?”

Ingrid took a drag from her cigarette, holding the smoke in for a little while, letting the nicotine surge through her. As she exhaled, she noticed that everyone was listening, waiting for an answer. “My parents were murdered...” She wanted to continue, but couldn’t. She could feel tears beginning to well up in the corner of her eye. She didn’t want to ruin her evening by bursting into tears, but could feel it coming. “I’m sorry, it happened at Christmas time...This is hard for me.”

Thomas put his arm around her. He hugged her tightly while she attempted to regain composure. A single tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek.

“Come on, Ingrid. Let’s go to the powder room.” Shelly said, standing and holding out her hand. Ingrid looked up at her, then smiled and took her hand. “we won’t be long, boys.” Shelly said.

Ingrid followed her to the restroom. Once inside, Ingrid checked her make-up in the mirror, using a tissue from her purse to dab at the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry for bringing that up...I didn’t mean to upset you Ingrid.” Shelly said, sounding genuinely sorry.

Ingrid smiled at her. “I know. It is my fault for being too sensitive about it. It is hard time of year for me.” Ingrid said, slipping into the thicker accent, which was easier to maintain. “You had no way of knowing.”

Shelly leaned in and looked in the mirror. “I was trying to...I don’t know. “ Shelly frowned, then looked over at Ingrid. “I was being catty and I know it. I wanted you to be a bitch...” she laughed. “So I could hate you and feel vindicated for it...But you are always so damned...gracious. It sucks.”

Ingrid didn’t know what to say, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “Sorry. I think.”

Shelly shook her head and chuckled. “See what I mean? It’s my baggage, not yours. I want to start over. I’m Shelly. I was a cheerleader in high school. My family is pretty normal, we’re well off and I’m used to being the center of attention.” She smiled at Ingrid. “But, I’m twenty one now, and I haven’t managed to lose my freshman fifteen. I saw you, a model, and was instantly pissed off. See, my baggage, not yours. “

Ingrid was taken aback. She really didn’t know how to deal with this conversation, which truly struck her as odd. “Ok...” Ingrid laughed nervously. “I really don’t know what to say here.”

Shelly laughed with her. “I’m a psych major, Ingrid. I know what I’m doing, and why...but that doesn’t always stop me from behaving like a complete prat. What I’m really trying to say is....Let’s be friends.” Shelly said, blurting it out in one long breath.

Ingrid took a second to process what she was saying, then smiled. “I would like that very much, Shelly. And, to set the record straight, I don’t think the freshman 15 look bad on you. I have no hips....And look at this butt.” Ingrid said, looking down at her small derriere.

Shelly smiled. “Thank you. But if you ever dog on yourself in front of me, I will only assume you are fishing for compliments...And I will have to burn you on it out of pure jealous spite.”

Ingrid laughed. “You know what. I wish everyone was as honest as you. It would make life so much easier.”

Shelly giggled. “Yes. I like it when I get to say what I mean. It pisses some people off, but to hell with them.”

Ingrid put her lipstick back in her bag. “Well, I think we have left the men long enough. They will worry about us if we don’t return, no?”

Shellly opened the door and the two of them emerged into the restaurant, smiling.

Their dates both stood up and helped them into their chairs.

“Are you ok?” Thomas whispered. “You were gone a while.”

Ingrid smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes darling. I am good. Shelly and I were only talking.”

“Good.” Thomas said. “I”m glad you are getting along.”

They ordered dinner, Steaks all around. Ingrid drank another two glasses of wine with dinner and was feeling a little tipsy by the time Thomas got the check. The two couples walked together to the door of the restaurant. Thomas looked out the door for Warren.

“I don’t see Warren and the car outside.” He said, poking his head out the door.

“I’m sure he has seen you now. We walk outside. He will pick us up.” Ingrid said, pulling her glove back on. She turned to Shelly and gave her a hug. “See you at the dance?”

Shelly smiled and nodded. “See you there.”

Thomas and Ingrid stepped outside. Sure enough, within thirty seconds, the black town car was pulling up in front of the door. Warren got out of the drivers seat and opened the door for them. They waved to Jeff and Shelly then got inside. The heat was on and it felt really good inside. Ingrid nestled up against Thomas, the alcohol making her very relaxed.

“Where to, now?” Warren said, looking at Thomas in the rear view mirror.

“To the hotel. The formal should be going strong about now.” He said, then leaned down and kissed Ingrid on the cheek. The car started moving.

The kiss on the cheek became a kiss on the lips. Ingrid was lost in Thomas’ embrace. All thoughts swept away while they kissed. She could feel the warmth of her sexual desire spreading through her. Suddenly, she stopped. She realized, and was very embarrassed by the fact that she was getting an erection. It happened so infrequently that she had forgotten that it was possible, and yet here she was straining against her gaff. Normally, it took a lot of manipulation to get it hard but here it had happened on its own. She could feel the blood flushing her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas whispered. “You got all....tense. I didn’t do anything did I?”

Ingrid looked down at his lap and noticed that he was also quite hard, bulging in his pants actually. At least she wasn’t alone in getting excited, only there was only supposed to be one of them with an erection here, and it wasn’t supposed to be her.

“No...Nothing. I just remembered that Warren is in the front seat.” She said, flicking her eyes towards the front of the car.

Thomas smiled. “Ok. sorry.” he said, laughing. “We’ll cool it.” he embraced her and held her tight. She wanted so badly for him to take her right then, but didn’t want her secret revealed tonight. It could, and probably would, end in tragedy and she didn’t want to ruin his night, or hers. So she resolved herself to play it cool, and keep her secret safe.

They pulled up in front of the hotel. Warren got out and opened the door. He helped Ingrid out of the car and smiled at her. “Text me when you are ready to go.” He said, then nodded to Thomas and got back in the car. He drove off in search of a parking place.

Thomas took Ingrid’s arm and, floating on cloud nine, the two of them entered the hotel. The Council had rented the large ballroom for the formal and the lobby was clogged with dressed up college kids. Everywhere Ingrid looked, there was a sea of floaty dresses and men in tuxedos. She was grinning ear to ear as they approached the door.

The Winter formal was, apparently, a big event. It wasn’t just Thomas’s fraternity that sponsored it, but the Inter Fraternity Council at GWU. Ingrid felt a little self conscious as she noticed people watching her and Thomas as they walked. She smiled, like a princess or a celebrity walking on the red carpet.

The ballroom was packed. The music was loud, but not deafening. They were playing good music, big band era stuff at the moment, that Ingrid really liked. She had been worried they would be playing hip-hop or some such rubbish that would totally deflate her mood. You don’t wear a dress like this to a place that plays music like that, she thought.

Thomas was, it turned out, quite a popular fellow. A near endless stream of friends approached him and said hello. He in turn, being ever the gentleman, introduced Ingrid. She had forgotten nearly everyone’s name right after they were introduced. Thomas didn’t spend much time talking with anyone, instead he tried his best to pay attention to Ingrid.

“You aren’t bored are you?” Thomas said, leaning in so close that Ingrid could feel his breath on her ear.

“Heavens no.” Ingrid said. “This is very nice. I am having good time.” she said, smiling at him broadly.

“Good. You are stunning. Every one of those guys has only come over here so they can get a closer look at you. I guarantee it. “ He said, then took her hand and kissed it.
Ingrid looked away, blushing.

“Hi, Thomas. I haven’t met your friend.” a woman’s voice said from over Ingrid’s shoulder.

Ingrid looked over. A woman was standing a few feet away. She was wearing a beautiful, black, one-shoulder, floor length gown. Her platinum blonde hair was in an elegant, up do, decorated with small crystals that made her hair shimmer in the lights. Her face was gorgeous, with a slightly upturned pixyish nose and twinkling blue eyes. Ingrid couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Hi, I’m Nina Webb.” the woman said, holding out her hand to Ingrid. “President of Alpha Phi. You look fabulous! Is that a Marchesa Couture gown?”

Ingrid blushed. “Ja. I mean, yes. It is. That Valentino gown looks lovely on you.” ingrid said sincerely.

Nina looked impressed. “Thank you very much. You know your clothes. Are you new at GW?”

Thomas interrupted before I could speak. “Ingrid is attending Georgetown. She agreed to slum it over here with me as my date.” he said proudly.

Nina laughed. “Well, damn. I was hoping to get you to come over and check out the house. We are always on the lookout for new members. Have you pledged at Georgetown?”

Ingrid shook her head. “No. I am too busy for much other than school and work.”

“Ingrid is a model.” Thomas said proudly.

Nina looked suitably impressed. “That is so cool. Well, my date is starting to look lost without me. It was good meeting you. See you at school, Thomas.” She said, waving.

Ingrid smiled and waved to her, then looked at Thomas. “Wow. It is hard to get a word in edgewise isn’t it.”

Thomas nodded. “Yes. It sure is, but she is nice enough.” He held his hand out to her. “Dance?”

Ingrid smiled and nodded, then followed him out on the dance floor. They slow danced to several songs before deciding they both needed a break.

There was a restaurant and bar on the roof of the hotel, with a large terrace that overlooked DC. They tried to be good while riding in the elevator, but ended up making out most of the ride to the roof. The doors opened and the two of them had guilty expressions on their faces as they walked into the crowded restaurant.

“would you like a drink?” Thomas asked.

“Sure.” Ingrid said. “A Cosmo, I guess?”

Thomas grinned at her. “Coming right up.” he said, squeezing her hand before he left. The bar had some of the college kids scattered around, but it was mostly an older crowd. Ingrid stood near a wall, waiting for Thomas to return. Several of the men in the bar were looking at her and that made her feel a little uncomfortable. Luckily, Thomas returned with drinks.

“Your drink, milady.” he said, proffering the glass. Ingrid removed her right glove and tucked it into her purse before taking the drink.

“Danke, liebling.” she said, then took a sip. “yummy.”

He took her by the elbow and led her out onto the terrace. The view of the city was lovely, and luckily it wasn’t too terribly cold. Ingrid was glad for the mink stroller, though her legs were instantly covered with goose-bumps. She pulled out a cigarette and let Thomas light it for her.

“I’m having a lovely time, Thomas. Thank you.” she said.

He beamed at her. “I’m very glad. I was hoping you weren’t bored.” he said.

She scoffed. “No, Thomas. This is very much like fairy tale. And you are my Prince.” She said, then kissed him on the cheek. He took that kiss as an invitation and kissed her on the lips. Ingrid slid into his embrace and they kissed for a long time. When they broke their kiss she looked into his eyes. “Thank you.”

He blushed. “No...Thank you.” he said. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, then looked down at her. “It is so hard to remember you are only seventeen.”

Ingrid grinned at him. “Sixteen.”

“Ugghhh” Thomas said playfully, though Ingrid could hear real frustration in his voice. “Its so hard not to think of you as 21...You look the part, and god knows you don’t act sixteen.”

“I am good actress, no?” Ingrid purred. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the lips. “It is cold out here. Let’s go inside.”

Thomas smiled and led her back inside. The two of them walked hand in hand through the bar. Ingrid finished her drink and handed the glass to Thomas, who deposited them on a table as they passed. She was now officially drunk, she thought, and wobbling a little on her heels. The alcohol coursing through her system was making her feel a little reckless, and more than a little horny. She knew she couldn’t fully give herself to Thomas, for a number of reasons, but she couldn’t help but think there was something she really wanted to do.

Ingrid led Thomas to the elevator. He pressed one, the floor where the ballroom was, but Ingrid pushed another button.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

The elevator dinged, stopping on the twenty first floor. Ingrid grinned at him and led him out of the elevator. The floor was very quiet, it being after eleven o’clock. Ingrid put a finger to her lips, urging him to be quiet, then led him down the hall. She led him to the stairwell and opened the door.

“You want to take the stairs?” he asked, still not sure what she was doing. Ingrid giggled, then shushed him again, gesturing for him to come in. She looked around the stairwell. There were no cameras on this level, which is what she was hoping. The threw herself into his arms and kissed him. He was rigid for a moment, surprised by her action, then took her into his embrace and they kissed for a long time. His hands slid down her back, cupping her bottom. Ingrid sighed, enjoying the sensation. Even in her inebriated state, she knew she couldn’t allow him to grope around too much, so she took the initiative. She reached down and cupped his, now very rigid, erection through his pants. He moaned a little when she took hold of it. She rubbed it for a second, then broke the kiss and smiled at him while she started unbuckling his belt.

“What are you doing? We’re going to get caught.” he said, sounding frustrated.

“No. We will be fine.” she said, unzipping his pants. He reached down and tried to stop her, but she would have none of it. She knelt down in front of him as she pulled his straining cock out of his boxers. It was big, as big or bigger than Bradley's. She smiled up at him and stroked it a couple of times. “Nice.” she said, then licked the tip.

The look on Thomas’s face was conflicted. She could tell he was worried they would get caught, but didn’t want her to stop. She had no intention of stopping, so she took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Swallowing, she took more of it into her mouth, as much as she could until the tip touched the back of her throat, which made her gag a little bit . Thomas moaned.

Ingrid started bobbing back and forth on his cock, taking it as deep as she dared. She got a little over zealous a few times and gagged, but was able to relax and enjoy the act. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft and worked it while she sucked. She was incredibly turned on and felt completely like a woman as she pleasured him. It didn’t take long until she felt him tensing up.

“I’m going to cum.” he said through ragged breath.

Ingrid kept working his cock with her hand, gently sucking on the tip until he came in her mouth. This time she was prepared for it and managed to get almost all of it in her mouth, with only a little dribbling down her chin. It tasted different than Bradley's, but not in a bad way. It did take a little effort to swallow it all, but she felt quite pleased that she managed it. She licked the little bit that was still left on the tip off, the way you would an ice cream cone, then looked up into Thomas’s eyes.

“Wow.” he said, in almost a stage whisper. “That was fantastic.”

Ingrid retrieved her purse and stood up. “Thank you, darling. I wanted to make this night a little more memorable for you.” She pulled out a tissue and her compact, then checked her lipstick. She giggled when she noticed the cum on her chin, then wiped it off. She was smiling at him as she reapplied her lipstick.

“You definitely did. I feel bad though...isn’t there something I can do for you?” he said, stepping in and embracing her.

“No, dear. The only thing I can think of, wouldn’t entirely be legal...or prudent to do in a stairwell.” she purred.

“I suppose not...even though technically, what you just did to me isn’t legal. That’s not even including the fact that you are a minor. Hell, I’m wracking up all kinds of charges this evening. Providing alcohol to a minor, statutory rape.”

“Technically, I raped you, I think...If that’s the line of reasoning.” Ingrid said, leading him out into the hall.

“That’s not how the court would see it, I’m afraid.” Thomas said with a laugh. “And it’s not how I see it either. I was definitely willing.” He put his arm around her as they got on the elevator.

They returned to the dance and stayed for another hour and a half, dancing and enjoying each others company. Ingrid, almost unwillingly, had to text Warren to come pick them up. The two of them walked hand in hand out to the lobby. Thomas said his goodbyes, and they walked outside where Warren had the car waiting.

He opened the door for them. “Good evening. I hope you both had a good time.” he said, holding the door.

“Fabulous. Thank you, Warren.” Ingrid said as she climbed into the car.

Ingrid leaned on Thomas’s shoulder as they drove. She was still quite tipsy, and very, very tired. She fell asleep before they even got on the expressway and was awakened with a gentle kiss.

Thomas was looking into her eyes when they opened. “We’re here.” he said.

Ingrid looked up, a little disoriented. Sure enough, they were in front of her Aunt and Uncle’s house. She frowned. This meant the evening was over.

“I had a lovely time, Thomas.” she said, then kissed him. The kiss became a long passionate one, but eventually they had to part.

“I did to, Ingrid. Thank you for coming.” He squeezed her hand. “I will call you tomorrow, ok?”

Ingrid nodded. Warren opened the door and the two of them got out. Good night, Thomas. Ingrid.”

Ingrid smiled at him. “It’s been a pleasure, Warren. Thank you.”

Thomas walked her to the door where they shared one last kiss before she went inside.

Ingrid was floating on a cloud as she made her way up the stairs. She took off her clothes then went into the bathroom to remove her make-up. The worst part about being a girl, she thought, is the clean-up. God it was so much easier just to strip down and throw myself into bed.

Finally, make up removed, false eyelashes stored, face washed and moisturized, teeth brushed, and exhausted, she collapsed into bed.

***

“Miss Wolfe?”

Ingrid looked up at the counter where the receptionist had called her name. She walked across the room, her heels clacking soundly on the Pergo floor.

“Yes, maam?” Ingrid said. She ran her fingers through her hair, which thanks to the extensions she’d gotten for the formal back in January was now hanging down to her mid back.

“Mr. Conners will see you now.” The receptionist said, smiling up at Ingrid. “Third door on the right.”

“Danke.” Ingrid smiled, feigning embarrassment. “Thank you.”

Ingrid slung her Prada tote over her shoulder and walked down the hall, her heels clicking loudly. She stopped outside Mr. Conner’s door and knocked on the frame. Mr. Conner was sitting behind his desk studying something on his computer screen. He looked to be in his late thirties, with a slightly receding hairline, but seemed to be a fairly hip guy, if his clothing and office decor said anything about his personality.

“Miss Wolfe. Come in.” He said, rising. He held out his hand to her, which she shook. His grip was firm, his hands dry. Ingrid was glad of that, she hated sweaty palms. “Have a seat.” He gestured to the office chair across his desk.

Ingrid sat down in the chair, crossing her ankles. She had worn a pair of black Kaufman Franco leather and twill stretch pants and a black satin cami, with her black Prada high heeled riding style boots. It was high fashion that, in basic black, downplayed itself at least a little.

“My name is Ben Conners. I am the Examinations Registrar.” he said with a smile. “But don’t let that fool you, I’m really a nice guy.”

Anyone who says that, Ingrid thought, is either not a really nice guy or is just so used to pissing people off that he feels the need to preface a conversation with that. That thought made her smile.

“Well, I’ve been reviewing your results. You have been a busy young lady. I see here that you have managed to CLEP out of all your General Education requirements.” he scanned the sheet then looked up at Ingrid. “That’s very good. I’m actually quite impressed that you managed to do all of them in a two month period. “ he looked at the sheet again. “I also see that back in January, you took the Foreign Language Skill Battery test and received full credit for German, French, and English.”

Ingrid blushed. “Thank you, Mr. Conners. I have been studying very hard.”

“I can see that.” he said. “Now, there are a few formalities we have to take care of. You will still have to take the Math and English placement battery, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you. After that, you will be enrolled at Georgetown University.”

Ingrid grinned from ear to ear. Ever since the Formal, back in January, she had been taking one or two tests a week. She was stunned at how easy the tests actually were, but then again, being as big a nerd as she was seriously helped, she thought. She’d also gotten a job, which had made life a little interesting, not to mention cutting down on the amount of time she and Thomas had been spending together. That, Ingrid thought, was not all together a bad thing, since she was having a hard time keeping her hands off him when they were together and that was just dangerous.

“When can I take the entrance exams, then, Mr. Conner?” She asked, adjusting her Chanel glasses on her nose.

“We offer the test every Thursday morning at eight A.M..” he said, glancing at the schedule.

Ingrid thought about it for a moment. Thursday mornings was when she saw her therapist, but she could afford to miss a week to get this done. “Can I take it this Thursday?”

He looked surprised. “Well, most students want a chance to study before they take it. But I see no reason we can’t get you in. It costs two hundred dollars to take the test.”

Ingrid rummaged through her Prada tote and pulled out her checkbook. She took the top off her pen. “Whom do I make the check out to?” she purred, thickening her accent a little unconsciously.

Mr. Conners rattled off the name of the office. Ingrid filled out the check and handed it to him. “Thank you Mr. Conners. Now, if you will excuse me, I must get to work.” She said, tossing her checkbook into her bag and standing.

“Oh, no problem. Where do you work, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I am a model.” She said proudly, and this time, it wasn’t just a cover story.

“Oh. I would have guessed that, but thought it would have sounded like a line.” he said, blushing a little.

Ingrid grinned at him. “Thank you, Mr. Conners. I will see you Thursday, no?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. Eight AM.” he said.

Ingrid gave him a little finger wave, then strutted out of the office. She was grinning ear to ear as her heels clattered down the hallway.

Ingrid pulled up in front of the warehouse at ten minutes until eleven. March was dry, but unfortunately still cold. She checked her make-up. She had intentionally worn very little since she knew she would be seen to by a professional. Scooping up her bag, she hopped out of her car and headed towards the door.

Natasha, a beautiful model originally from Belarus, smiled at her as she walked up. Natasha was about the same height as Ingrid, tall for a girl at 5’9” but not inordinately tall for a model.

“Hello, Natasha, I see you had the same idea I did.” Ingrid said as she pulled a cigarette out of her purse. She lit it, then leaned against the wall next to Natasha.

Natasha grinned at her then took another drag from her cigarette. “We will not be getting break for many hours, no?”

“Antoine is a slave driver, no?” Both girls erupted in a fit of laughter. Antoine was a fantastic photographer, but he could drive the girls completely crazy.

They finished their cigarettes and headed inside. Ingrid hadn’t realized how cold it was outside until she stepped in the warehouse.

***

Things progressed quickly the next couple of months. It all became a blur of work and studying, with very little time to do much else. Ingrid was having to make the choice between pilates and Krav Maga and Krav Maga was currently losing. She had showed up for work, a photo shoot for Macy’s, with a big bruise on her shoulder. The photographer had gone completely apeshit, and Ingrid had gotten a long lecture from her agent about being more careful. So, reluctantly, she was sticking to Pilates for toning. She couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to do some sparring after a long day at work though.

The most frustrating thing about being so busy was how hard it was to get time with Thomas. With all the spring lines out, Ingrid’s life had become a blur of photo shoots and fashion shows. In the six months since the formal, she had only managed to go on three dates with Thomas. Much to her chagrin, she realized that the only time they connected now was on Facebook.

Late on a Friday night in May, Ingrid was up late reading in bed at her house. She was staying at the house more often now, usually three days a week. Her aunt and uncle were ok with it, since her hours weren’t the same as theirs and it actually caused fewer conflicts if she had a little autonomy. She was startled when her phone rang. She looked at the screen. Uncle Red.

“Hello.” Ingrid said, sounding way more asleep than she actually was.

“Hey Darlin’.” Red said. She could hear the smile in his voice. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No. I was reading actually.” She said.

“Good. Get dressed. I’ll be there in fifteen.” He said.

“Where are we going? “ Ingrid said, sitting up in bed.

“Just dress casual. Fourteen minutes now, hon.” he said. She could hear road noise in the background.

“Ok. See you in a few.” Ingrid said, then pressed end call.

She hopped out of bed and started getting ready. She put her hair up in a pony tail then started rooting through her closet. She grabbed a pair of boot cut jeans and her brown Ariat cowboy boots out of the closet. While she was shimmying into the jeans, she made her way to her dresser where she grabbed a black baby tee. Smiling, she pulled on her boots.

“Dressed in ten minutes. New world record.” She said with a laugh, then hurried into the bathroom to check her make-up. She had washed her face earlier so she had to start over. A little mascara and some lip gloss was all she bothered with, going for a very natural look. With her pony tail, glasses and the little bit of make-up, she looked like a sixteen year old girl. On her way down the stair she grabbed her leather jacket and purse just in time to answer the door when Uncle Red rang.

Red was standing on the step, looking the same as always. Jeans, boots and a tee shirt. Same droopy mustache, still looking for all the world like Sam Elliot.

“Hi, Ingrid.” he said, holding his arms out for a hug. Ingrid gave him a big hug, squeezing tight. “How are ya?”

“I’m good. This is a surprise.” She said, looking up at him.

“Yep...Let’s go.” he said.

He had gotten a new truck, a black Toyota Tacoma, since their last visit. He opened the door for her then got into the drivers seat and started the car.

“Where are we going at twelve thirty in the morning?” Ingrid said, grinning at him.

“Well, our first stop is Crazy Mary’s. I need a beer.” he said, smiling at her from under his mustache.

“Will they let me in?” She said, realizing how young she actually looked in this outfit.

“They won’t ask any questions.” he said as they pulled out of the driveway.

Crazy Mary’s is a little dive bar on the outskirts of Arlington. Ingrid had never been there before, but she’d overheard Uncle Fred talking about it once or twice. The place lived up to its reputation as a dive, Ingrid thought as they pulled into the gravel parking lot. There were several trucks, a few muscle cars, and several bikes in the parking lot. Red parked and turned off the car.

Ingrid slung her purse over her shoulder and followed him into the bar. The place was more crowded than she expected, but no less grimy. A haze of smoke hung in the air and Johnny Cash blared on the the jukebox.

“Red!!” The bartender exclaimed as they walked in. Several other men and women in the bar chimed in, then rushed over to shake his hand or give him a hug. “Welcome back.” The bartender said from across the bar as he pulled out an ice cold bottle of Bud.

Red walked over to the bar and shook the bartender’s hand. “Fish, this is Ingrid. My niece.”

“Nice to meet you, Ingrid.” Fish said. “Hey Red...Ain’t she a little young to be in here?”

“Yeah.” Red said, deadpan.

Fish looked at him for a minute. Ingrid felt really uncomfortable. It looked like there might be trouble. Then, Fish broke into a smile and after a second Red followed suit. The two men burst into laughter then Red picked up his beer.

Ingrid looked from Red to Fish, realizing she’d been duped. “Fuck you.” she said, smiling at Red.

That got both of them going again and their laughter kicked up a notch. Ingrid shook her head and grimaced. “Can I get a beer then?”

Fish shook his head and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Sorry.” he said, choking back the laughter. “No problem.” He put an ice cold Bud on the bar and twisted off the top.
Ingrid took the beer and held it up to him, chuckling. “Danke.”

She turned to Red then punched him in the arm. Still laughing, he gestured for her to lead towards the table by the jukebox. Ingrid dropped her purse on the table and sat down. Red sat across from her.

“That was mean.” she said, then took a sip of her beer.

“Shit. Fish and I have known each other for years. We can’t help but fuck with one another.” he said before turning up his beer.

Ingrid just shook her head then pulled out a cigarette. “So, what are we doing here, other than contributing to the delinquency of a minor?” She punctuated that with the click of her lighter as she lit her cigarette.

Red smiled under his mustache. “Well, darlin’. I was back in town for a few days and wanted to spend some time with my favorite niece.”

Ingrid looked at him for a second then narrowed her eyes. “And?”

Red’s smile widened. “Ok. There’s been some talk at the Farm about you.”

Ingrid was taken aback. “What? Why?” She said, leaning in closer.

“Since you started at International Modeling it’s caused quite a stir.” Red said, smiling.

She looked confused. “Have I done something wrong?”

Red chuckled and shook his head. “No. Nothing wrong. International is owned by the company, hon. You might have figured that out already, but I wanted to lay it down for you. International is there to provide covers, Ingrid. It’s not supposed to be a break out agency. Too much profile will fuck up the whole thing.”

She looked really puzzled now. “I’m not following, Uncle Red.” She said, then took a drag from her cigarette.

“You are causing a stir because you are making waves in their little pond. Several of the girls at International are there under company covers besides you. Some people at the Farm feel like it might be time for you to move on.” Red said seriously.

“I’m still not following...Wait, are they firing me? Cover? What the fuck Red?” Ingrid said, trying not to raise her voice too much.

“Settle down, girl.” Red said, holding up his hands. “No you aren’t being fired. What I’m trying to say is you are getting too much attention to stay at International. You’ll find out in the next couple of days but you’ve been picked up by Elite up in New York City.”

She looked at him, dumbfounded then drained the rest of her beer. “Maybe I’m just slow or something but...What?”

Red couldn’t help but smile. “I think our plan worked a little too well, Ingrid.”

It finally dawned on her what Red was saying. International existed to provide a start for young models and for models who were working under agency cover to establish themselves and start a resume. This allowed the girls to graduate to a larger agency, or to establish being a prior model as part of their back story. Either way, International Agency stayed more or less under the radar. Ingrid had been getting a lot of success recently and it was worrying the big wigs at the Farm. A transgender model was too hot a property for them. She realized that it would come out, and soon. News like that was very hard to keep under wraps. If she was represented by Elite, they would handle it and International would be protected.

“Too well?” Ingrid said. She lit another cigarette then took a long drag. her nerves were absolutely shot.

“Yeah. Too well.” Red said. “Darlin’, I knew you were beautiful. I told you that the first time I saw you as Ingrid.” Ingrid couldn’t help but blush. “But I had no idea how god damn photogenic you were. We knew you wanted to try your hand at modeling, so we hooked you up with International. The idea was just to get you on board and start getting you some back story. Well, shit. It blew up in our damn faces.” he shook his head.

“There’s fall out.” He said gravely.

Ingrid looked terrified. “Uh huh.” she said, then nervously dragged on her cigarette.

“The Director informed me this morning, in no uncertain terms, that you were not going to be in Special Projects. Your profile has just gotten too high. I’m sorry darlin’.”

Ingrid felt like she was going to cry. She’d really had her heart set on working for the CIA. “Oh.” she said softly.

Red frowned, then reached out and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “But that’s the bad news. Want the good news now?”

Ingrid nodded. She was doing all she could to keep from bursting into tears right there. Despite her best effort, a single tear slid down her cheek.

“The good news is....Brady has been on the phone with Allison Parks up at Elite New York. You’ve officially been turned over to them for management after all the calls started coming. That’s done what it’s supposed to and deflected the heat away from the agency. Ms. Parks has already gotten you a series of contracts lined up that top a million dollars, all told.”

Ingrid’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

Red nodded. “I talked with Fred about this earlier this evening. It was hard as hell to get him to agree to letting me give you the news.” Red smiled. “All you have to do is agree to them and you are on your way.”

She looked concerned for a moment. “Will....Will I have to move to New York?”

He shook his head. “Not right away. She has stressed that you are enrolled in Georgetown and that you want to finish college. They are quite understanding about that. Besides, until you are eighteen in July you can’t move up there anyway.”

Ingrid’s head was reeling. Holy shit, she thought, This is like some kind of fairy tale. “Umm, can I get another beer?” she said, holding up the bottle.

“Yeah. Be right back.” Red got up and walked over to the bar.

Ingrid was stunned. She had never expected the modeling to be anything except a side gig. Now it looked like it was going to ruin her only chance of having the career she’d gotten her heart set on. On the other hand, she was going to get be a real professional model. Big league. It made her stomach uneasy to think of all the scrutiny, and press that was going to come up about her and her past. Being a transgender model was nothing to hide these days. A finalist on America’s Top Model was a Transgender girl last year. It had caused quite a stir, but she had gone on to get a lot of contracts. It worried her how all the press might affect the people she loved. Luckily, Red came back with another beer before she could ruminate much more on that thought.

“Here you go darlin’.” Red said sitting down across from her. “I figure it’s had a little time to sink in now.” He said, then took a swig from his beer. “Aghhh. That’s good.” he said, smiling.

Ingrid took a long drag off her cigarette, then slowly exhaled before taking a drink from her beer. “Yeah.” she said finally. “I think it has. So. No Company work for me. I can’t complain though. I get to model...I get to go to school. I get to be..well....me. There are worse fates.”

Fred laughed. “Honey, you still might be able to come work for the Company. We’ll have to see how things pan out. “

She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, Uncle Red.”