Chapter 28 - Ivan

"Nothing is more despicable than respect based on fear." Albert Camus

Daisy's day began inauspiciously. After a breakfast of tea and toast, he sat at his vanity applying the finishing touches to his makeup. Standing in front of the full length mirror, he closely examined his silhouette and was happy with what he saw. He did a quick review of every detail and saw that Daisy looked pretty, in the cheap sort of way just like Linda directed. Linda stood in the door, her legs spread and her hands on her hips supervising her apprentice in his preparations for the days outing. She gave her trainee a last minute pep talk, it wasn't exactly Knute Rockne, but it served its purpose.

"Daisy remember even if you despise someone, smile when you see them. It puts them at ease and gives you an advantage.

"I want you to tread very carefully around Ivan, he has a short fuse. Remember your prime directive, lure that bug into your web, then we can wrap him up and deliver him to the justice department. Now go find out all you can about him and his associates. Try to gain his confidence. Be warm and flirtatious without throwing yourself at him. Get close enough to his inner circle to learn what he is planning. If that terrorist bastard sneezes, I want to know the color of his handkerchief. Now good luck and keep me informed."

Jack stepped out on the sidewalk in his tight dress and high heels, wearing way too much makeup for a woman going out this time of the morning. He could feel himself hemorrhaging what little was left of his self-respect. His eyes darted back and forth scanning the street. His heart raced, he felt flushed so he paused to lean against a wall where he took a series of deep, measured breaths.

Jack was fatigued and dog-tired, both physically and mentally from the strain of the last months where he had walked his own trail of tears, months, hell it could have been years, time had no meaning. The fresh sent of the ocean breeze was refreshing and helped him relax. A kind of detachment and acceptance settled over him and he headed off toward the club, more afraid of disappointing Linda than dealing with a known killer.

Listening to the sound of his heels echoing off the sidewalk, caused him to question why he was involved in this mind boggling undertaking. Despite what Linda said, he wasn't a spy nor was he a transvestite at heart. He had never volunteered for anything in his life, now here he stood. Neither a true woman nor certainly not a man. Simply an asexual being on his way to work. It was 8 AM and he was headed off to the lion's den. A den of iniquity if what he heard was true.

He walked in a zombie-like trance down the street to the club. Rattling around in his brain was the realization of the daunting task before him. His nerves were frayed from the whirlwind of activity he was trapped in.

At the corner he stopped for a traffic light and it gave him time to think, was he doing this for his country? He tried to convince himself that was at least part of his motivation. He had never felt brave but he did feel a deep sense obligation to his adopted country. In retrospect, his agreement to undertake this assignment was an uninformed decision. In his naiveté, he had trusted Rose, who made one hell of a recruiter, she was a born salesman and he now realized he never stood a chance against her feminine wiles.

He had led an uneventful life up until this opportunity presented itself to Rose. She had convinced him it was his chance for a life do over and that he could really make a difference for his country. He reviewed all she had put him through and had an Ah ha moment. What Rose had done to him was not done out of love or passion, it was simply to satisfy her need for revenge.

He began to wonder if Rose loved him at all. She had really fucked him over by turning him over to an unprincipled government for brainwashing. The vehemence against Rose raised up as he thought, 'The bitch doesn't know the meaning of fidelity. All her actions were self-serving. She knew exactly how to exploit my weakness by using my little head to override my better judgement.'

Jack gave his best feminine pout and held his head high as he realized at the time that he had no real understanding to what he was agreeing to. If he had only known then what he knew now, he wondered if he would again agree to undertake this mission. When he had tried to explain that to Linda she showed no empathy whatsoever for his predicament.

But then again it still came back to Rose. She had hurt him terribly that last day and he had truly hated her for a while. As he had time to think about it though, he realized just how traumatized she had been over her brother's death. She was unable to pursue retaliation on her own, so she needed him to act as her proxy. From her perspective it is a husband's responsibility to take care of his family. Since he lacked the brawn to take on the bad guys physically, she decided his lack of strength could be an asset as a lure to catch a terrorist. Rose was obviously not concerned with the fate of her bait. It was up to him to find a way to wiggle off the hook before he was consumed.

The question remained though: Was he still her husband? Does a piece of paper and a ring make a marriage or is it a spiritual bond between two people? If one of the partners violates the pact does that break the contract? If so, was Jack now a free agent, able to seek love somewhere else? That was a scenario he would have to investigate after his part in the war on terror ends.

He just couldn't grasp the self-image of a soldier marching off to do battle with a terrorist while carrying a tray of drinks, in 5 inch heels and a low cut dress. An amusing thought crossed his mind of John Wayne playing his part in a movie.

He had often told Rose he would do anything for her, even give up his life. He had been raised to believe the only true barometer of how strongly a person loved another was measured by how much they were willing to sacrifice for the other. He glanced down and found he was unable to see his feet. The view was blocked by a womanly chest. In reality, his breasts were just a bit more than a handful; but his padded push up bra produced enough spillage to create the illusion of a well-developed woman.

Jack thought back to the moment he had chosen that bra from the cornucopia of lace and silk that filled his lingerie drawer. He had selected this particular brassiere, not only for the support it provided; but more importantly because it didn't irate his nipples and yet still covered his ever expanding areolas. The damn nipples had been itching and driving him crazy lately. They also had become very sensitive to touch and temperature. Linda had been kind enough to get him a prescription for a hormonal cream. She assured him if he massaged in every day it would reduce the constant irritation.

The first day he stood in the bathroom rubbing the cream into his 'breasts' was the incident that made him grasped the enormity what exactly he had done. He trembled at the thought that the changes of the last few months were merely the beginning. He had given up his life as a husband and traded it for an adventure as a cocktail waitress/spy called Daisy.

A gust of wind blew up the street and ruffled his hair, and bringing him back to the present. For the first time, he noticed a sophisticated looking middle-aged woman standing on the opposite curb also waiting for the light. Obviously a successful business woman, she was exquisitely dressed in a Calvin Klein blazer, with a cowl-neck top and a pencil skirt, carrying a Michael Kors Handbag. The recognition that he knew that scared Jack more than the thought of confronting the terrorist Ivan. As he glanced around the crowed street, he realized he now looked at other woman for what they are wearing more than as a potential sexual partner. He tried to decide when that metamorphosis had occurred but wasn't sure.

The woman was obviously scrutinizing him as she waited. The curled tendrils hanging down just forward of his ears seemed so appropriate sitting at his vanity, now they felt almost childish and drew unwanted attention to his heavily made-up face. This truly tested his antiperspirant; he felt like he was under a microscope. He knew women are more observant than men, particularly when it comes to other woman.

Jack stood with his feet together and his hands demurely crossed in front of him, the way Linda had instructed and tried desperately to appear composed. He felt certain she could detect every small flaw in his feminine presentation. He knew it was only a matter of time until someone would expose his charade.

The light changed and he started across the busy intersection putting an extra wiggle in his walk. He held his breathe as the two passed shoulder to shoulder. With his peripheral vision he detected a knowing grin on her meticulously made-up face. He waited for her to scream 'imposter' and have him arrested. But rather she merely smiled and said, "Love your shoes" and went about her business. He turned his head and over his shoulder in his best soprano voice replied. "Thanks."

It took Jack a minute to regain his composure. Then he realized he had passed his first test, being accepted as an authentic woman in broad daylight. He squared his shoulders and smiled; the Florida sun felt warm on his cheeks and breathed in the refreshing sea air. His spirits soared as he took a mental inventory, he was out on the public streets moving with the grace of a beauty contestant, a set of perky boobs on display, a head full of long blonde hair, manicured finger and toe nails.

He could see no options, his wife had thrown him out and Linda treated him like chattel. His government had hijacked his life and made in very clear they would disavow any knowledge of him if he were caught He was well and truly trapped and he knew it, all he could do was to move forward. If he was going to do this, then he was going to be the best damn Mata Hari HLS had ever seen. He had spent his life being manipulated by women, he had learned from the best. Now it was his turn, he would have Ivan eating out of his hand in no time. In some small way, he felt exhilarated by the opportunity. Daisy the Lionhearted had been loosed, lookout world here she comes.

Daisy reached the club and knew this was the moment of truth. He instinctively checked his reflection in the store front window, patted a stray curl back in place and boldly strolled in and reported for his first day at work.

After a quick stop at his locker to secure his purse, off he went to his assigned station to wait on his first customer.

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Daisy's first encounter with Ivan did not go so well. He had been working at the club for two weeks now and the terrorist still had not appeared. He was beginning to think that he had been shanghaied for nothing and that he would never get out of here.

He had just started his shift and was flitting around the tables serving the various customers. Doug, the bartender, gave him two drinks and instructed the newbie to deliver them to table 23. It was a table outside of his assigned section, but being new, Daisy assumed Doug knew what he was doing.

As he dropped off two drinks at the table, he immediately recognized Ivan the Impaler smiling smugly up at him. Jack was sickened by the lust he saw in Ivan's face. His posse of wide-bodied men, legs the size of small trees and faces only a mother could love, constantly circled Ivan like pilot fish around a great white hoping for crumbs. He turned to walk away and Ivan reached out and pinched his ass.

Daisy reflexively whirled around with catlike grace and contrary to all logic viciously slapped Ivan across the face with an open hand. The sound reverberated off the walls like a gunshot. The club became instantly graveyard silent, Ivan's crew of degenerates moved in mass to surround Daisy. Ivan's nostrils flared, unaccustomed to being treated like this. Everyone in the club waited to see what would happen next. In a nanosecond, Jack knew he had made a mistake, but now was not the time to show fear. Spreading his feet and glaring down at the astonished customer, Daisy sneered and said, 'Mr. Vasilie, I am not just another house whore, if all you're looking for is a quick 'fuck n suck' you're barking up the wrong tree. Take your mangy Cossack ass somewhere else."

Ivan waved the guards away and quickly responded with "Sorry sweet lips. You've got spunk, I like that. I didn't mean to disrespect you, I was just being playful. Can you forgive an ill-behaved, bad mannered old man?"

Ivan reached for Daisy's hand and lifted it up to his mouth for a kiss. Daisy felt a need to curtsy at the gallant gesture so he was caught completely off guard, when Ivan turned the hand over and kissed the palm, not the back, thus turning what could have been a rather magnanimous gesture to something sleazy, saying, "If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"

Daisy giggled and resisted the urge to scratch out his eyes, then with her other hand gently stoked Ivan's red cheek.

"Apology accepted, Mr. Vasilie." Daisy casually turned her back to the pervert and the silver tinkle of her nervous laughter could be heard throughout the club. After he was out of reach, Jack began to breathe again.

Sophie, a statuesque girl who had taken Daisy under her wing, dragged Daisy into the employee changing room. She looked at Daisy, a spark of fear evident in her liquid brown eyes. "Daisy, are you crazy or do you just have a death wish? No one treats Mr. Vasilie that way and lives to see the next sunrise. I suggest you get on your hands and knees and crawl over there and beg for his forgiveness."

"Sophie I appreciate the advice, but back off! The guy was a creep and got what he deserves." Daisy took Sophie by the shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. "Let me tell you something. All of us 'special girls' may have issues, but that doesn't give anyone the right to treat us like a piece of meat. I am not ashamed of what I am. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. My ex-wife and her kind may be appalled by what I have become, but that is their problem, not mine!"

Jack briefly wondered were these thoughts were coming from but stood up tall and pushed his chest out and went on, "Nature may have mistakenly given me a Y chromosome that merely means my external form is male. That doesn't define who I am on the inside. We should be happy about who we are. After all we are a lot more versatile than those so called real girls."

Sophie blinked at her and said, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Daisy put her hand over her heart, "We have an insight into the male mind that gives us an advantage in life. The famous Chinese military general and philosopher Sun Tzu once said 'If you know your enemies and know yourself, you need not fear'.

"I am proud to put on a bra and panties every day. Let's stop hiding in the shadows and come out into the sunlight. No one will ever accept you until you accept yourself. But with that prideful chest thumping, comes the responsibility of dealing with the potential consequences. I for one am tired of living in fear, so if Ivan kills me so be it. At least my anguish will be over. I will die with my head held high."

Sophie nodded as she took in what Jack had said. She patted him on the shoulder and said, "Good luck girlfriend. Please understand if I don't get real close to you for the rest of the day. I am not prepared to be collateral damage if that Russian mobster has a major melt down. Are we still BFF's?" Jack felt a swelling in his heart he had never had a real best friend before.

Parting, Sophie grabbed Daisy and pulled her close and kissed her full on the lips. Daisy was so shocked she failed to respond. Sophie said, "FYI, That's friends with benefits."

The three musketeers of gossip, Candy, Paula, and Libby, walked in just as the kiss was being administered. Sophie smiled at them as she swept back out to the club. The three girls probed Daisy for an explanation, aside from a blush she refused to address the issue. The rumor that Daisy and Sophie were lovers would stay alive for several weeks, especially as the two of them always took their breaks together and were frequently seen holding hands and sharing conspirator whispers.

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The next day, an edgy Daisy, was delivering two more drinks to Ivan's table where he was playing a game of chess. Daisy stood submissively to the side while Ivan's opponent contemplated a move. Following chess etiquette, Daisy watched the move and waited until he had taken his hand off the piece. Daisy in a voice that was boyishly high snickered at the move. Ivan smiled and looked up at the waitress. Ivan's opponent through clenched jaws spoke in a condescending manner, "Ms. Sweet cheeks, why don't you leave this to the men, go powder you nose or something."

Daisy again fell out of character by saying defiantly, "Don't call me sweet cheeks, I don't like being talked to like that."

Ivan reached for his cheek and said, "Watch this one she is a real spitfire. I speak from experience."

Ignoring the warning, the other man continued. He put his foot in his mouth by saying, "Listen, you little trollop, I will talk to you any way I want!"

Daisy stood balancing the drinks on her serving tray and snapped, "Well Mr. Sweet cheeks, if you ever speak to me that way again, I will personally ensure you never have another opportunity to breed."

Ivan laughed and told his challenger, "Sorry buddy, but she's right. Its mate in two moves, I will add the grand to your tab. Now move along and leave us grownups alone."

The man pushed up from his chair, glared at Daisy, then stormed off. Daisy politely served the two drinks.

Ivan said very respectfully, "Miss, don't mind that riffraff. Do you play?"

"Who little old me? Yeah, I know how the pieces move, though I will admit I get confused sometimes about that horsey looking thing."

Ivan grinned and said, "Sit down and we will play a game."

Confused by the invitation, Daisy was not sure if that was a polite command or a request. Trying to be standoffish and diplomatic she responded, "No I can't, my boss wouldn't like it."

Ivan yelled, "Phil, I want to play a game with your waitress, you got a problem with that?"

"No Mr. Vasilie, take all the time you want."

"Sit down girl, NOW!" Ivan's tone was half-playful and half-menace.

Daisy sat, fixed the hem of his skirt and crossed his legs sexily, hooking his foot behind his calf, like he had practiced a 1,000 times. Daisy struggled to cope with the magnitude of the moment, with the sense of pervasive danger just out of sight but closing in like an invading army. Daisy put her hand on the table and drummed his perfectly manicured nails on the polished surface. Only then did he look at Ivan who sat in a passive-aggressive manner checking his watch to show his displeasure in making him wait.

Ivan handed Daisy a shot of vodka. Ivan said "nostrovia" the traditional Russian toast. Daisy took one sip and answered "Na Zdorovie!" An impressed Ivan threw his own shot down. Daisy sipped hers swishing it around in her mouth before swallowing and then said, "Starka, not a bad brand but I prefer Stolichnaya, but I was raised on Fris. My father would let me sneak a sip from his glass when my mother wasn't looking."

A surprised Ivan laughed and replied, slurring his words from all the strong drink he had been consuming. "I was raised on bootlegged trash made from potatoes, now I only drink the good stuff. I don't find many Americans that appreciate vodka. It is the one thing my country still does well."

Ivan offered his tablemate a cigarette. Daisy took one and held it to his mouth waiting for a light.

"My dear girl, why is your hand shaking, I don't bite."

"I am sorry Mr. Vasilie; it is just that no man has ever lit my cigarette before."

"Call me Ivan, my dear child."

The game began with Daisy having white and the first move. Leaning back in his chair with his lit cigarette, Daisy let the smoke waft from between his painted lips in dainty wisps. Daisy made a production of wrapping his mouth around the tobacco tube and sucking more of the caustic smoke into his mouth. An erotic stain of red lipstick was left on the paper.

During his smoke training Jack had learned that he could draw the smoke into his mouth and exhale it without going through his lungs. Jack was proud of the fact he could now go through the motions without choking on the vile-tasting fumes. Jack's training had focused on more than actually puffing on the cigarette. He learned 'the presentation' was more important than just smoking. How you positioned it in your fingers, how you held your hands; how you drew the cigarette butt into your mouth, how you tapped the ashes, how you held your head, how you exhaled the smoke were all part of the presentation. It wasn't about smoking; it was turning the whole process into a sensuous flirtatious gesture.

Jack contemplated his opening move, alternating between puffs on the cigarette and petite sips on his vodka. Jack finally decided to go with a low risk move and played the classic, Ruy Lopez opening, a cocky Ivan responded with the Berlin Defense.

The game was afoot. Sacrificing a queenside pawn early on, Jack quickly took control of the center of the board. Ivan's black pieces were under considerable pressure until late in the endgame. Jack became distracted playing the seductress and lost concentration. Ivan pounced on this lapse. He forked Daisy's Queen and rook. At that, Daisy uncrossed his legs, reached over and laid his king over in surrender. Standing, as Ivan said "Thanks for the game Daisy."

A shocked Jack said "How did you know my name?"

Ivan answered "I have known everything about you from the time you started working here. For example, I know you are a ranked chess player and that your wife really did a job on you. From what I hear, she and your old boss have become an item around town, I even acquired a picture of them swapping spit at a recent business function."

With a great deal of emotion in his voice, Jack responded, "Yes sir, that bitch set me up real good. Just because she couldn't handle my little 'hobby', she felt justified in ridiculing me in public! As far as my old boss goes, she deserves that wanker."

As a single tear ran down Jack's cheek, Ivan said, "It appears that you still have very strong feelings for that woman."

Taking a minute to compose himself, Jack responded, "Yes Mr. Vasil…Ivan, I guess I still have feelings for her. There is a fine line between love and hate. I will admit I still love the woman I married, but I have developed a deep loathing for the person she became."

With a heavy heart, Daisy got up and went back to work, but a bond had been formed between the two that would continue to grow over the ensuing weeks.

Daisy retreated to the back of the club. His colleagues squealed in delight as Jack left his tête-à-tête with Ivan.

Daisy and Ivan played many other times over the coming weeks, Daisy never won, but was always able to compete with the Russian. They would talk during the games, mostly about gourmet cooking and classical music, but generally they just chatted and became friends.

When football season arrived, Daisy was delivering Ivan a drink and stood for a moment to watch the game. Ivan looked up and asked, "Are you a football fan?"

Daisy quipped, "I have always dreamed of becoming an athletic supporter."

Amused by the response, Ivan invited Daisy to sit with him for the game. Ivan was flabbergasted at the amount of trivia Daisy knew about both teams, one of which was his beloved Buccaneers'. Now in addition to chess games, Daisy became a regular for the football matches. What Ivan never figured out was the preparation Jack put in studying each of the teams statistics. Thanks to Linda, the night before every game was a cram session.

Daisy enjoyed the time off her feet, but Ivan's attentions soon became a problem. He would order snacks during the game and make it a point to hand feed Daisy tiny morsels. Each feeding was accompanied by Ivan's fingers just ever so lightly touching Daisy's lips. Jack found the feathery touches to be an extremely intimate experience. Although he would frequently deny it, Jack in fact found it sexually stimulating. But it was Ivan's wondering hands that made Jack the most uncomfortable.

Ivan was anything but subtle; Daisy never gave him an ultimatum, but handled each incident with a light girly slap on the wrist and a pretty little laugh. It was the disrespectful way Ivan treated Daisy that upset him the most. It often got his ire up. Jack would never admit it but deep down what he really wanted was to be treated like a lady.

The closer Daisy's relationship with Ivan became, the less trouble Jack had with the other customers. Ivan's rogues' gallery of cutthroats avoided Daisy like the plague. Even strangers seem to know instinctively to mind their manners. The disparaging comments and crude sexual innuendos continued, but it was a very rare occasion that anyone made any physical contact.

Jack actually began looking forward to his daily shift. The work was certainly low stress and, as much as Jack hated to admit it, he enjoyed getting all dolled up every day. He luxuriated in the feel of the soft materials. He even made friends with several of the other girls. They were initially a bit cliquish, always talking among themselves about girly issues like lingerie, hair, makeup, nail polish, the best way to give head, or that all important subject, shoes. Jack had a real advantage over the others with his stable of professional tutors, so by butting in with pertinent comments from time to time Jack slowly won acceptance among the other transvestite waitresses.

One day, Ivan joked, "I don't understand you Americans. What would you say if I asked to feel your melons? I walked into the greengrocers and ask the female assistant if it's OK to squeeze her "melons" and she slapped me."

His playful repartee, found a warm reception, Daisy giggled like a mischievous school girl. Unexpectedly, the sexual entendre caused Jack's nipples to harden. He wondered what he would say if Ivan wanted to cop a feel. It also cost Jack more than one night's sleep as he tried to come to terms with his new perspective on life.

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