Derby Day Surprise — Chapter 2
By Julie D Cole

The flight was very comfortable and not busy, so I had an empty seat at the side of me and 2 in flight comfort packs so I could have a shave before we landed. One thing I found about travelling to US of A was I would be arriving just a few hours after the time I departed so I’d still have time to see a bit of New York this evening with luck.

I opened my laptop and searched through the data base I’d set up where I logged as much information as I could on my high-level key account customer contact. His name was Jeremy Boyce or JB as he likes to be called. He was Head of the UK operations. Well his actual title was Chief Executive Officer but he liked to have a more modern title. He didn’t realize his staff hated him and he thought he was God’s Gift to women.

He had been irritated with me at first because I had managed to get past his secretary. But because I’d disguised my voice and he thought I was a female he couldn’t resist. Finally, he responded to my questions after I dropped my voice to a husky style and told him I was ‘Pussy Galore’ looking for JB and was he Mr. James Bond 007.

He laughed and so he seemed to be attracted saying he had a saucer of milk for me if I wanted to pop in to see him. I didn’t have to try too hard after that and he persuaded me to give him my mobile number and he’d call me back. He did later the same afternoon. I then played little miss helpless needing his assistance.

He offered me lunch the next day but of course I had to decline. How could I? Still I built up a telephone relationship and managed to extract a little bit about his private life and his likes and dislikes. It also gave me chance to chat to his secretary and after two or three phone-calls, some flowers and a bit of girly chat she opened up a lot. She could certainly gossip and I had to keep my office door closed when we chatted so our voices didn’t carry. I was inventing a life about myself.

He definitely liked the ladies and so I found that I could now get at least 5 minutes of his valuable time. My disguised voice had been enough to get my foot in the door that he assumed was a 6inch black patent stiletto and not my size 6 Cuban heel. Well I am a bit of a shorty and I need all the help I can get. Isn’t it strange that men who try to raise their height are ridiculed yet girls can wear flats or platforms, pumps or even clogs or army boots and nobody even blinks. Life isn’t fair!!

Anyway, back to the story. I’d developed a rapport with him and he tried more and more to coax me to meet him. The more I resisted the more interested he was and the more orders I got even though they were small value. This was getting noticed in my weekly sales reports.

He was definitely attracted to me, getting worked up in our chats and I guess even I was even a little excited myself sometimes and he knew how to make me giggle. He was very suggestive and sometimes I could imagine myself as a woman with him standing naked over me like he said and so I was beginning to question my own sexuality. I had to keep reminding myself that I was trying to win over a major account and to be careful in case I was traced by him. This was dangerous but I still looked forward to the banter. He was funny and I was laughing.

Finally, I managed to convince him to join us on one of our corporate event days where we’d like to talk to him about signing an annual contract. He obviously saw this as his chance to meet me until I disappointed him by saying wives were also invited but by this time he’d said yes.

He asked if I was married or if I had a boyfriend that I’d be bringing along, but I said I was not usually invited and normally my boss stepped in.

‘Oh he comes in for the glory does he?’

‘She’s not a he, he’s a she and she’s very attractive. You’ll like her I promise.’

I was smiling to myself at the time thinking what would happen if I got invited and then I could meet him as Steve without telling him but say a few things he’d said to me to make him think a bit. Anyway, not much chance so I said he’d have to wait until the account had matured and that sadly he’d have to be satisfied with my boss until them.

‘Tell me more. What’s her name? Who is she?

‘Her name is Marie-Chantal LeClair and her mother was French and her Father from Belgium. The name itself had him drooling but I knew from his disappointed he wanted me, Sarah.

Anyway, as usual Marie was delighted to move in on the account since she would get all the glory and also pick up a fat bonus I suppose. In the meantime, I’d be packed off to search for more success. It’s a tough life in sales. Lots of travel and nights alone and it can get boring. No wonder I hadn’t met a girl and settled down. But I thrived on the sniff of an order and the small praise, but the commissions weren’t bad either.

Anyway at least my life had been more interesting since I’d found a new sales ploy with my disguised voice and I could be as much of a scamp as I wanted and it seemed like I could get away with murder. [lucky the death sentence is illegal in UK I suppose]

So now I’ve back-filled I should get back to the plot.

About an hour before we were due to land in New York I unpacked some of the clothes and went to the toilet to shave and change. Not spacious but I managed. In went masculine Steve and out came Sarah. Well not quite because I still had to look vaguely masculine to be able to pass through customs so the items I put on were feminine style but not all the way. I could hardly wear a skirt could I? These tight jeans looked OK but I had to be a contortionist to get them over my feet and up my legs. Bum looked nice and front zipper girls side for the left hand and some pattern on the pockets but they looked OK even though I didn’t get a full view in the mirror. The jacket was tighter fit than normal and I left the bra empty and with the buttons fastened I reckoned I could still pass for male. Did I just write that?

I put on some lip gel and left the wig in the bag until later. Eye liner helped a lot and I thought that wouldn’t really matter through passport control and customs as I was from England and normally at New York the customs agents are too busy trying to be rude to visitors to notice who is at the other end of the voice.

As I passed through the check point I couldn’t resist using my girly voice and so the immigration officer did at least look up with a frown on his face and said ‘Male or Female Sir.’

I just smiled as he looked me up and down, frowned, shook his head and waved me through.

Now I had to complete the disguise before I met anybody else and I needed privacy. So as I headed to the bathrooms I felt that I had to go for it. I opted for the girls bathroom. Wow we should have places like this. Clean and bright with fresh aroma.

Nobody looking at me so I ducked into a cubicle and put on the wig, waited a few minutes and then came out to tidy and comb it. Touch more make-up and hello gorgeous. Mmm not bad. Better than I expected. Now the voice had a woman behind it. My confidence increased dramatically.

So Sarah was out of the closet so to speak. [bathroom in America if you need the translation.]
Nothing to declare except my virginity and so out to the other side to try to find Carole. There he was. Mm he obviously kept himself in shape and as I got closer I almost cricked my neck looking up at him.

He smiled down and grabbed my hand to shake it and mine went limp. He squeezed it and leaned towards me kissing me on the cheek taking in the freshly applied Channel perfume that I’d purchased on the plane.

‘Nice Sarah. You smell scrumptious.’

Then he took my bag and put his arm around my waist guiding me towards the exit and whisked me off to the car park.

‘Want some lunch before shopping young lady to get your bearings?’

‘Err OK that would be nice. Do we have time?’

‘Don’t worry these places stay open late. As long as you are as decisive choosing outfits as I hear that you are with clients we’ll be fine. Sorry to hear this was dropped on you at the last minute. I’d have gladly spent a couple of days with you.’

I could see he was a real charmer.