© 2012, by Susan J. Charles. All rights reserved
Edited by Holly H. Hart

Phil stopped by after I called him to tell him my “female problems” were over. Since Karen was at the office, I promptly showed him how much I appreciated his concern for me.

Kneeling there between his legs, I thought about the submissive position I was in. When she’d done the same thing to me, Cindy had always insisted on having me lay down on the bed while she knelt above me. I was faintly disturbed to realize I liked this position better and that I really liked what I was doing for Phil.

Afterward, I again refused to let Phil return the favor or even touch me between my legs, pleading still being a little sore from “that time.” We just cuddled on the sofa and I found myself melting into his strong arms. We hadn’t known each other that long, but I found myself really liking the guy.

Just then, Karen came bursting through the door. She took a look at us on the sofa and said, “Phil, I’m sorry, but can you please leave? I’ve got something personal to discuss with Jessica.”

Phil looked confused but did as Karen requested, kissing me at the door as he left. Then I turned to Karen wondering what was going on.

“Jessica, we’ve got a real problem! I just got served with a couple of notices. You are barred from having anything to do with the business, until everything is settled in court. Apparently they’ve been trying to find you to serve a divorce summons. They haven’t been able to find you, so everything you’ve got is frozen until it’s all sorted out in court. And, if that wasn’t enough, as an employee of the company, I’ve been forbidden to have any contact with Mark.”

“And, that means...?” I questioned.

“If anyone finds out Jessica and Mark are the same person, I could be held in contempt of court.”

“Let’s call Fred right away,” I said. Fred was my attorney. A friend from college, I’d used him for all my legal business ever since he passed the bar. After he spent some time working with a law firm, I helped him set up practice in Seattle.

I set up an appointment with Fred for the next morning, then drove over to my suite to pick up some Mark clothing. I found the locks had been changed and there was a notice on the door stating that access to the premises was forbidden pending court proceedings. The building manager informed me that he didn’t have the new key and, as long as the rent was kept up-to-date, he couldn’t gain or grant access until he heard differently from the court.

Undaunted, I headed to a store to buy a suit. The sales clerk thought he’d racked up a big commission, as I needed everything from the skin out. My boyfriend had lost his luggage, I said. He had a big presentation the next afternoon, so I had to pick up clothing while he finalized the presentation. The clerk was fine with using Mark’s credit card, until it came back denied. It seemed the account was frozen. Mark’s two other cards were also denied. It was then I realized that the cards I was using were joint cards I held with Cindy. The only other card I had was a business card which was also frozen. A call to my bank confirmed that, in addition to my credit cards, my bank accounts were frozen too. I had no access to any money or credit.

Defeated, I returned to Karen’s apartment.

“I’d like to help, but my cards are maxed out until next payday,” Karen told me.

“What am I going to do?” I asked. “I’ve got no way to be Mark.”

“Remember you’ve got client confidentially with Fred,” Karen said. “It’s time Fred met Jessica.”

And so, the next afternoon I walked into Fred’s office building wearing a gray pinstripe skirt suit and a white silk blouse with ruffles on top. I’d gone all out to look like a young, professional woman. My hair was up and I was wearing conservative earrings, a simple strand of pearls, a single bracelet on one wrist and a small watch on the other. My skirt ended a few inches above my knee and my legs were clad in smoky charcoal gray hose. Black three-inch heels completed my look and. I’d made sure to wear a short black half-slip and black panties so that if I should happen to flash anyone with my somewhat short skirt, they wouldn’t know if they were seeing panties or a shadow.

My makeup was simple but elegant, suited for daytime. My heels made a tapping sound as I walked along. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see and feel the sly glances of the men I was passing. For some reason, that made me feel good. My exercise at the health club had fleshed out my legs somewhat and the heels made them look terrific. I really liked showing off my legs.

I told Fred’s receptionist that my brother Mark had been held up and requested to speak with Fred in Mark’s place. At first, she seemed a little skeptical, but then she decided to let Fred decide what to do and showed me into his office.

My heels tapped across his hardwood floor as Fred stood up, looking a little puzzled. I reached out my hand and gave him a ladylike shake. “Hello, Fred, I’m Jessica Stafford” I said. “I’m taking Mark’s appointment, but we need to discuss it in private.”

Fred closed the door. As he sat back down at his desk, he took a good long look at me.

“Jessica...I know you. We met when I was a freshman at UW. You were at a frat party with Karen. I remember because when you two walked in you really lit up the room. I always wondered what happened to you.”

“Well, it’s a long story,” I replied. “And relates to why I’m here now.” I opened the briefcase Karen had lent me, and pulled out all the court notices and summonses.

“I’m going to tell you a story, but it must be in strictest confidence. You are restricted by lawyer-client confidentially aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied.

His mouth dropped open as I gave him a brief history of Mark and Jessica.

“I would never have guessed!” he said. “You are a knockout. You’ve really been wasting your time as Mark. Things make so much more sense now.”

Then I brought him up to speed on the present situation. He’d heard about Cindy leaving Mark, and had actually expected to hear from Mark before now.

“I’d fallen into a deep depression and Karen felt I needed a vacation from even being Mark, so she bullied me into bringing Jessica back. I’m now very glad she did, but, with this order, it seems I can’t go back to being Mark,” I said, handing him a copy of the latest order.

“My suite is sealed. I can’t even get my Mark clothes. My credit cards and bank accounts have been blocked and Karen’s been told if she has anything to do with Mark, she’ll be in contempt of court. I’m destitute, and don’t even have the means to find a place to live in the time frames that have been set. I can’t even pay you anything right now.”

“The yearly retainer you pay me will cover my services,” Fred said. “Let’s take a look.”

I was almost in tears. Tears? I don’t cry. Haven’t for years. But I held off then because I didn’t want my mascara to run.

Fred looked over all the papers I’d brought Then he made a couple of phone calls and talked for quite some time. Then he looked at me.

“You didn’t help yourself at all by ignoring the earlier correspondence,” he said. “Everything is now tied up and complicated. Among other things, Cindy’s afraid of losing her business. You provided the capital to get her business started, and Washington is a community property state. Her case is further weakened by the fact she left you, so she’s decided the best defense is a strong offense.

“But this really isn’t my field. You need a divorce attorney.”

“Fred, you’re the only game I have. I can’t afford anyone else. I don’t have any money or credit.”

Fred sighed. “Okay. For friendship’s sake I’ll try. And I do owe you for helping me when I was first starting out in this business.” He thought for a few minutes.

“I should be able to get you something to live on, but it’s going to take time. In the meantime, you’ve got to lay low somewhere. Your cross-dressing could be used against you in the divorce proceedings. Other than that, I agree with Karen. You need to be Jessica for a while. If you can survive until I can get some funds freed up, we can see about getting Mark back.”

For some reason, I felt reluctant to think about being Mark again. Of course it was inevitable somewhere down the road, but not yet.

“Can you make it for a while?” Fred asked. “You can’t stay with Karen anymore. If someone connected Jessica with Mark, Karen would be in serious trouble.”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I’ll have to think about it.”

I asked him if I should make any changes to my IDs or driver's license. He told me not change anything until the divorce was resolved. “We don’t want any legal paper trails connecting Mark to Jessica until after that.”

I left Fred’s office feeling really down. What he’d told me was that for a while I didn’t have any access to my money, and I couldn’t use any of the programming work I’d done previously until a settlement had been reached, because it was all my company’s intellectual property. I was also worried that if Fred had remembered Jessica from college, someone else might connect Mark with me. My parents were gone and I’d sold the family house. In essence, I was out on the street with nothing to fall back on.

I sat at a table in an open-air cafe and ordered a coffee. Then the tears started in earnest. I pulled a tissue out of my purse to stop them from running all my makeup and sat there sobbing.

“Jessica?” a voice said. There was Phil across the hedge barrier that separated the cafe patio space from the sidewalk. “Jessica, what’s wrong?

“Oh Phil,” I said and started sobbing again.

Within seconds he was at my table. He sat down and just held my free hand until I’d cried myself out.

Finally, I calmed down. I pulled out my compact and took a look at my face. The tissues had taken the brunt of the tears, but my face could use a little work.

“Let me fix my face,” I said to Phil. “Then we’ll talk.”

In the ladies room I splashed cold water on my face and repaired the damage. Phil had ordered us coffee during my absence.

“So, why are you here?” I asked.

“My building is right across the street,” he replied. “I was returning from a meeting when I saw you here. You looked like you could use some help.”

“Can I ever,” I replied, feeling like I was going to tear up again. “I’ve just found out that I’m basically out on the street with no job and no funds.”

I explained how “my former spouse” had tied up everything until the divorce proceedings were completed and how, due to legal issues, I couldn’t even stay with Karen any longer.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I do,” Phil said. “You can move in with me.”

“Oh, Phil, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to take your charity.” I said.

“You wouldn’t be,” he replied. “I’ve been thinking about asking you, but didn’t want to rush things.”

“But …” I began.

“No buts,” he said. “Jessica, I need you. I need a hostess. I’m in a position where I need help with all the entertaining I have to do. You’ve shown that you can do that at my football parties. So it wouldn’t be charity. You’d be helping me a great deal.”

“But …” I began again.

“Look,” he interrupted. “This is strictly business. Anything else will evolve as we let it.”

“But I have no money to pay my share of things,” I said.

“Jessica, I’ll support you. Look, I do a lot of entertaining of the top brass in my company and important clients. Your help would be more than enough payment. If you succeed as well as I know you can, I’ll be moving to the top floor. You’ll be supporting me at the most important time in my career. It’s you who will be helping me, not the other way around.”

There was some logic in what Phil was saying. I’d attended enough of such gatherings as Mark to know how important good impressions are to careers.

“There is one thing,” I said. I knew I was taking a chance, but I had to be completely honest with Phil. And, we were in a public place where nothing could happen.

“Phil, I like you a lot. But you can’t go into this expecting more down the road than I can give you. You have to know that we’ve been as intimate as we’re going to be. You see, I was born a boy,” I said softly.

I flinched as I uttered those devastating words, waiting for him to blow up at me.

“I know,” he said calmly.

Now it was my turn to be flabbergasted. “You know?”

“Jessica, you are very, very good at being female. Not one person in a million would ever guess you were anything but the girl you show to the world. But that one person would be me.”

I raised my eyebrows in a questioning look.

“You see, when I was growing up, my best friend was transgendered. I got to know Ron as Lisa in grade school. I took her out in high school so she could have the experience of knowing what it was like to be a teenage girl. I helped her with her transition and, in the process, learned how to spot any clues that might have given her away. She went full-time when we went to college.”

“What happened to her?” I asked.

“Between her Sophomore and Junior years, she had her surgery. We eventually drifted apart, but today Lisa is a happy housewife raising two adopted kids with the help of her loving husband.”

“Does he know?” I asked.

“Of course,” Phil replied. “Lisa had to be honest with him. That’s why I appreciate so much you telling me, even if I had already guessed.”

“Speaking of which, what gave me away?” I asked. I had to know.

“Two things, three really,” he replied grinning. “First you have a slight Adam’s apple if one knows what to look for. But the biggest give away is that both your tits are exactly the same size. Genetic women almost always have one bigger than the other one.”

“So you have been looking at my chest,” I said in a mildly flirtatious way.

“No more than every other male within a 20 block radius,” he said, grinning. “You may have been born with the wrong plumbing, but you are one hot chick.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” I said. “Back to your original question, I’d love to be your hostess, but you will have to support me for a while.”

”I can only hope it’s a good long while,” he said.

I went to call Karen to tell her about my new arrangements and found that my cell phone had been cut off. Then I remembered Karen had made it a company phone for tax purposes. Obviously Cindy had finally remembered it, too. It was probably just as well. If she could get access to my calling records, she could see what I’d been up to and if I’d been talking with Karen. Fortunately, since I’d been living with her, I hadn’t had a need to call Karen.

When I told Phil my cell wasn’t working, he walked me to the nearby office of his cell provider and added me to his account with my own phone number and a brand new phone with the latest apps.

Karen was the first call I made from my new phone. I quickly filled her in and we made arrangements for me to move my clothes out of her apartment right after work.

So there I was. I was standing at Phil’s door wearing a new mini skirt, hose and two-inch heels and a cute, low-cut top. I’d changed out of my suit because Phil was going to take me to dinner.

It had been a very trying day. I could barely keep my eyes open during dinner. On top of my emotional crisis, there had been the physical labor of moving all my things out of Karen’s apartment, loading my car, and unloading everything into one of Phil’s spare bedrooms.

I couldn’t believe how much girl stuff I’d accumulated in a relatively short period.

When we got back to Phil’s, I barely lasted long enough to get my makeup off before falling into my bed. I paused only long enough to give Phil a kiss on the cheek and whisper, “Thank you!”