Fashion Girl - 12
By Katherine Day

Chapter 12 – Grand Opening
"Are you certain that's what you want to do with your life?" Debbie Sullivan asked her daughter that night as the two were cleaning up after their late dinner.

"Mother, it's a chance to make a difference and still follow my talents as a designer," she replied, having dried the last of the dishes.

Debbie suggested the two sit down at the kitchen table and have a bit of wine to discuss the proposal.

"What about your college?"

"Mom, I can continue, but with a reduced load. I’ve already changed my major into business administration. I can do just as much good for society as a business person as I can as a politician or social worker."

Debbie Sullivan wasn't sure it was still such a good idea. She had heard about promoters like Larry Wilkins who often were not much more than hucksters who'd leave Corrine out in the cold if things didn't work out.

"And what about Adam?" Corrine's mother asked.

Yes, what about Adam? Corrine pondered the question: It bothered her more than anything. She wasn't sure where the relationship with Adam was headed, but if she had a future with him was it not doomed if she were to tie herself to a business in Milwaukee while he was laboring in the forests some 300 miles away? True, there was the idea that Adam was continuing to discuss with Lionel (Helen Comstock’s boyfriend) about possibly establishing a part of his business in Milwaukee, an idea that would bring Adam to Milwaukee more often but was still long in the future. To refuse the proposal from Larry Wilkins would mean she'd continue to have keep options about her future as she continued school.

"Nothing's certain with Adam, mother," she said. "Besides, while he seems inclined to want to be with me in the future, he hasn't said as much, and I'm still not a total woman. He might lose interest while he waits."

"It's up to you, dear," Debbie said, hugging her daughter warmly.

“I know, mother, and I’m scared I’ll make the wrong decision,” Corrine said.

“Why not talk this over with Sonja?”

“Sonja?”

“Yes, Sonja Peplinski, your old hairdressing customer. She’s got a good business sense,” Debbie Sullivan suggested.

Of course, Corrine thought. She’d contact Sonja the next day.

*****
“I can’t believe how strikingly beautiful you are, Corrine,” Sonja Peplinski said when the two met in the coffee shop near the salon two days later.

“You mean it?” Corrine said, feeling overwhelmed for the compliment that came from a young woman she had grown to respect for her own good looks, great taste in clothes and confident demeanor.

“Of course, dear,” Sonja replied with a smile. “You could model on the classiest red carpet in the garment industry.”

“I doubt that.”

“Really, besides some of the highest paid models now are transgendered women.”

Corrine smiled. Sonja, who had just turned thirty and was already a respected advertising executive, had once worked as a model in New York, returning to Milwaukee to complete her college and eventually get into an advertising career.

“That’s good to hear, Sonja, but I’m not interested in modeling.”

“You’d be a natural for it, my dear, and I’ve seen you model your own creations and you do it expertly. But you’re right, being a model is no picnic. You work your heart out, but once you’re thirty you’re reduced to doing commercials for wrinkle-removing creams or heart pills.”

Corrine smiled, realizing she should get to the point of the invitation. She outlined the proposition from Larry Wilkins to Sonja, who listened carefully, interrupting frequently to ask questions. Corrine could tell the other woman was mulling over the plan deeply.

“That’s an intriguing idea, Corrine,” Sonja said when the narrative was finished.

“What do you think?”

“It’s a gamble, but you won’t be investing any of your own money, right?”

Corrine nodded that was the case.

“You’ll be free to design your clothes and you’ll be hitting a special market, but a lot of success will depend upon how well you’re being marketed,” Sonja said.

“I don’t think we’ve even gotten that far in our thinking,” Corrine said.

Sonja also suggested that as chief executive of the new business that Corrine would be spending more time on administrative and promotion duties than in designing clothes.

“So even if the plan worked out successfully, I might still be sacrificing my own talents?” Corrine asked.

“You might, but you’ll also learn a lot, too.”

“What would you do in my situation, then, Sonja?”

“I’d do it,” she said without hesitation. “But you’d best make your own decision.”

Corrine wondered whether she should seek out Sonja’s advice on the impact the decision would have on her continuing relationship with Adam, but decided against it. It wasn’t right to involve the other woman in her personal business, was it?

*****
Corrine began to realize that life offered no simple answers and that there were few “right” ways to handle any question. While she had struggled with her decision as to whether to live her life as a woman, it had been an easy decision to make. She considered herself to be a woman, to be fully female and that, in spite of the difficulties in transitioning, she knew it was the right decision. The question of going into business, however, was troubling; it meant she’d have to give up or at least postpone her education. It meant, too, that she’d have to become immersed in the day-to-day world of business, perhaps into supervising workers, seeing to finances and the other daily obstacles that often arise. She wondered whether she was capable of it.

What troubled her more was her relationship with Adam. Did the two of them truly have future together? Their circumstances were strikingly different. He was a strapping logger in the woods and she was a physically fragile city girl hoping to make a difference in the world, either in politics, social work or the world of women’s fashions.

“Go for it,” Adam said simply when she finished telling him that night about Larry Wilkins offer.

“You think I should, Adam?” she answered, surprised at his quick response.

“What have you got to lose, Corky? It’s their money and they think enough of you to invest in your concept of a business. Even if it doesn’t work out, you’ll get a ton of business.”

“But Adam, if I do it, it’ll be hard to get away to see you.”

“We’re still 300 miles apart, Corky, whether you do this or not.”

“Adam, I miss you so much,” she said, suddenly feeling sad.

“And I miss you, my love,” Adam responded quickly, almost too quickly in her mind.

“You mean that, Adam?”

“Of course, I do, you silly girl.”

They ended their conversation with the usual audio kisses, but Corrine felt there was a difference somehow in his tone. Had he grown cold toward her? Had he come to want a real girl in his life rather than a soon-to-be girl like herself? It was a possibility, considering that his sister Amy had told Corrine that a former girlfriend of Adam’s had returned to the area. Adam and the young woman – who had been homecoming queen – had been an item in high school, but their relationship ended after she went East to college and he attended the nearby University branch campus. Now six years later the young woman had returned to a town less than a 30-minute drive away, armed with her MBA from Harvard to become vice president of the major bank in the area. And, she was still single and still beautiful.

Corrine cried a lot that night. In the morning she made her decision. She told no one, but at 9 a.m. she phoned Larry Wilkins: “I’d like to take the gamble, Larry. When can we get together to discuss the details?”

*****
Creations by Corrine opened in October that year, taking up the bottom floor of the former shoe factory. It was an auspicious opening, attended by the mayor, the congresswoman representing the city, the district’s alderman, a cadre of the most prominent leaders of the African-American community and all four local television news stations, plus assorted others. Amy Hartmann and Maureen Penney were there, along with Jason and Emily Penney and, most importantly, Corrine’s mother, Debbie Sullivan.

Corrine wore an ankle-length light green dress that she had designed and made; she had hoped it would be tasteful, stylish and not too ostentatious for a ten o’clock in the morning ceremony. Her mother said the dress reflected her femininity to the fullest; it had a high necked bodice, puffed sleeves, an empire waist and full flowing skirt.

“You’re the picture of loveliness,” Larry Wilkins said, as she arrived at the store at 8:30 a.m. to prepare for the opening.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.

“I don’t know of any woman who could look so nice so early in the morning,” he said smiling.

“And look at you, Larry, dressed in that fancy outfit. You couldn’t be more handsome!”

He smiled, “We’ve gotten to be a good pair, haven’t we?”

Larry was correct. The two of them had become comfortable working together, assembling the funding, persuading local, state and federal officials of the value of an enterprise loan and handling all of the remodeling that was needed for the building. With clever marketing (thanks to some volunteer advice from Sonja Peplinski), Creations had already gained substantial orders, mainly from stylish women from not only the Milwaukee area, but also from Chicago. To serve the growing customer demand, Corrine had spent much of her time acquiring workers to make the new creations. To fulfill the requirements of the job development loans as well as to serve Corrine's own desires to create garments with a diverse workforce, more than half of the new employees were to be minorities.

Corrine had become particularly fond of Shaundra Means, a matronly, middle-aged African-American woman who was hired as chief designer and supervisor of production for the small staff of eight persons. Though Shaundra dressed in drab, everyday clothing herself, she had a tasteful eye. Corrine found her easy to share ideas and development refinements that helped turn out lovely designs. Most importantly, Shaundra turned out to be a no-nonsense administrator who quickly gained respect among the workers.

"We'll get these orders filled by December Fifteenth," Shaundra assured Larry. The staff was due to begin production on the day following the grand opening.

"I never thought we'd get this many orders right away, but I guess the publicity helped," Wilkins said.

"You know, I questioned whether this business could thrive in this neighborhood," the woman said. The two were conversing over coffee and sweets as the reception was winding down. Meanwhile Corrine was busy in a conversation with the mayor, Jason Penney and the head of the Federal Reserve Bank who had come from Chicago for the event.

"I think Corrine's a truly inspiring person, and she's so young," Wilkins said.

"And her beauty doesn't hurt the eyes either, as I'm certain you've noticed," Shaundra said, teasing the young man.

Wilkins had found himself becoming aroused when he was in close company with Corrine, as they often were in meetings together to develop the business. He looked at her smooth skin, and held back the urge to caress the girl's slender arms or run his fingers down her lovely face; he wanted so badly to take her dainty body in his arms and hold her tight and then to place his lips upon her full, round lips. The scent of her fresh soft body was intoxicating. Yet, Larry Wilkins restrained himself, knowing of her apparent love for Adam Hartmann. He adopted a protective role toward the girl, making certain that business decisions were sound and also looking to her personal safety; as the autumn progressed, the parking lot was dark at night and Wilkins insisted upon walking her to her car to keep her safe in a neighborhood that often burst into violence. When he held her car door open for her each night, he fought against his growing obsession to hug her tightly.

*****
Corrine’s desire to look up into Larry’s eyes as he held the car door open grew intense. Should she kiss him? The urge to do so was overwhelming; yet, she knew it was wrong and that it sent the wrong message. She was not in love with him; she was in love with Adam. It was not right. She wondered whether Larry Wilkins felt the same way about her, sensing as he looked down at her that he also wanted to hug and kiss her.

There was an awkward moment, a moment in which Corrine felt he was going to draw her into his arms and kiss with unbridled passion. She was excited and embarrassed at the prospect, and she stood stiffly, not attempting to sit down into her car. The two stood there, mesmerized, ignoring the cold, brisk wind off of frigid Lake Michigan that blew through the parking lot.

“Have a good night and see you in the morning,” Larry said, mercifully breaking the spell. He assisted Corrine into her Ford Escape, a three-year-old car she purchased when she realized she needed mobility to juggle the new business, school and other needs new to her life.

“Thank you, Larry, and don’t work too late,” she said, giving him a warm smile.

As she pulled out of the lot, she glanced into her rear view mirror to see Larry standing in the lighted canopy at the entrance, watching her drive out. She wondered if he felt the same disappointment she did over not kissing each other.

It was with guilt that night that Corrine phoned Adam. She needed to hear his voice, to hear him say he loved her and to feel the strong emotion she often felt in their regular phone calls. As usual, the two talked via Skype; on this night, Corrine dressed up more suggestively than she had ever done before. She showered, applied lotion to help make her skin glisten and perfumed herself. She let her hair down so that it flowed down to her narrow shoulders. She put on her sexiest night gown, pink silk with lace and spaghetti straps. She smiled at image of the slender, soft, lovely girl in the mirror, hoping that the view might stimulate Adam Hartmann.

As she awaited the “witching hour,” the agreed upon time when Adam would call, her mind wandered to Larry Wilkins. What would he think of her displaying herself so wantonly on a video phone call? He seemed to be straight-laced and proper in all his dealings. Yet, she found herself hoping that someday she might be able to show her business partner what a sexy woman she was. She was shocked as her mind wandered away from Adam (her beloved Adam) and focused on Larry Wilkins. What kind of a woman was she?

“What is this?” Adam said when he finally buzzed her on Skype, about fifteen minutes past the scheduled time. His tone reflected shock and dismay.

Corrine was surprised at his cold response. It felt like he was insulted by what he saw, that she had gone too far over the top to display herself, as if she were performing for a porn video.

“I’m sorry, Adam. I thought you’d like to see more of me,” she said apologetically.

“Put on a robe or something. Or turn off the video, Corrine,” he said. His voice was firm, commanding and for the first time in weeks he used her full first name, rather than the loving nickname of Corky.

“Oh Adam,” she said, bursting into tears.

She left the video and found her old plaid robe (it was the one she wore as Jason). She yelled back into the computer. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She darted into the bathroom to clean her face from the tears, remove all her makeup and put her hair into a bun. She would be as ugly as possible for Adam. She was humiliated; yet she also wanted to show her own need to respond by making herself ordinary and dowdy. She’d show him!

“Is this better?” she challenged him, upon returning to the screen.

“You didn’t need to go that far,” he said. “You just needed to cover yourself, Corrine.”

“Didn’t you like what you saw?”

“It was pretty suggestive and not like you, Corrine. Maybe I was shocked?

“It’s not like you never saw a woman dressed like this before, Adam. You’ve had your share of girls, I understand.”

He hesitated in answering. Corrine said nothing, wanting him to stew in his own guilt over his past girlfriends and his past sexual escapades.

“But now I’m in love with you, Corrine. I’m not in love with some hussy. I’m in love with a lovely, smart, warm woman.”

Corrine felt taken aback by his strong expressions of his love toward her. He seemed sincere and apologetic for his rejection of her attempts to arouse his sexuality.

“Am I not Corky anymore?” she asked.

“You’ll always be my Corky,” he said.

The kisses they gave each other on screen were as passionate as ever.

*****
She had a restless night following her late night phone affair with Adam; she hated herself for her flirtations with Larry Wilkins just a few hours earlier and wondered if she was being dishonest with both men for welcoming their attentions. What is love? Is that what she has experienced with Adam? Or, is it merely a reflection of her own craving for attention and affection? She cursed herself for her inexperience in sexual relations, her virginity and her own insecurity. Was she capable of making a responsible decision for herself?

And, what of her near kiss with Larry? She had dearly wanted to feel his lips upon hers as they stood in the chilled night on the parking lot. She recalled, too, of those moments in the days before when they worked in close quarters during the process of creating the business; there were moments then that she felt the urge to hug and kiss the wonderful man. His scent alone was intoxicating, a mixture of light cologne and man smell, so different from the scent given off by the rough-hewn Adam Hartmann. Both were strong men with large hands; Adams’ hands were heavily callused and broad while Larry’s hands were slender and smooth to the feel. How she wanted to the feel the touch of both men!

Both men, she was certain, were romantically interested in her, even though Larry Wilkins had never said anything to indicate that he had such desires. Yet, she thought she could see the desire in his eyes during their recent times when they were in close proximity, particularly the previous night in the parking lot. He wanted to kiss her – she knew it!

She eventually found sleep, only to waken at five o’clock, a full half hour before her alarm was set to go off! In spite of the lack of sleep that night, she felt wide awake, her mind racing over the dilemma. Corrine sat up in bed, noticing it was still dark outside – and would be for another two hours. She reflected on something her friend, Maureen Penney, told her several weeks before when they discussed the decision about whether Corrine should accept the offer to begin the business.

“You must make the decision for yourself, Corrine. Decide what you feel is right and then do it. If it turns out to be wrong, just deal with the circumstances then.”

Corrine reflected on the words of her friend. Yes, Maureen’s words of wisdom were correct: Do what you feel is right!

*****
Creations by Corrine was scheduled to open for its second day of business at ten o’clock that morning. Realizing it would be a long day, she chose to wear a calf-length, loose-hanging turquoise and pink skirt with a dark violet sleeveless blouse with a high neck. She also wore a gray blazer that had convenient pockets inside in which she could carry pens and note paper she might need during the day. She also carried scissors and a tape measure in a handy pouch that hung discreetly about her waist. She wore pumps with a short heel and knee high length coffee colored stockings. Corrine wished to display a business-like image.

Larry was already in the office at seven-thirty when she arrived, carrying a large cup of coffee and her favorite cranberry date cake from the nearby Colectivo coffee shop.

“Good morning, Corrine,” he said, looking up from some charts on his desk. The two shared an office behind the front display room.

“Morning, Larry,” she said, realizing her voice was a bit curt.

He frowned at her for a moment, then quickly let his face move into a smile that Corrine found to be terribly inviting.

“It looks like we’ll have a busy day. We picked up eleven appointments for fittings today,” he announced.

“Good,” she said putting her coffee and piece of cake down on her desk. She rolled her chair next to his desk. He watched her actions, wondering about the determined manner she displayed in moving the chair and the firm look on her face.

“What’s this all about?” he asked.

“Larry. We need to get something straight,” she began.

“OK.”

“I’m in love with Adam Hartmann and there will be no relationship with you, ever. Period.” she said, her voice may have sounded firm and determined, but inside her stomach was churning and she felt like she’d cry before she would finish her statement. Immediately, she worried that her direct, firm statement would offend the man; perhaps, too, he’d take it as a decision made because of his race.

Larry Wilkins smile broadened. “What brought that on?”

“Last night, at the car, I wanted to kiss you,” she said.

“And you don’t this morning?” he asked, teasing her.

“That’s not it.”

“Oh you do want to kiss me now. I’m ready,” he said, his eyes beginning to dance in merriment.

“Yes, oh my God, no. You’ve got me so confused now. Damn you.”

He laughed.

“Larry, I’m serious. I’m in love with Adam and he’s in love with me. I can’t have an affair with another man, even a man as nice as you.”

“I’m sorry,” Larry said. “I shouldn’t have teased you. You’re right, of course. We’re business partners. That’s all, right?”

“Yes, business partners.”

“But still friends?”

“Yes, Larry, friends and I hope friends forever,” she said smiling.

“Corrine, let me say that you are a most desirable young woman and, yes, I too have had the urge in recent days to hug and kiss you. I wanted to badly last night and I sensed that in you as well.”

“I know. We really are a good match, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but only as business partners and as friends,” he said smiling.

Corrine was about to get up and return her chair to her desk, but stopped.

“There’s something else, Larry,” she said.

“What?”

“Well, this is hard to say, but I was wondering about your desire for me.”

She paused for a moment; he continued to look at her closely.

“It’s just that I told you I was born a boy and I think you know I still have my boy parts,” she said. “Were you just curious about me? Because you think I’m weird or something?”

The minute she asked the question she wished she hadn’t. She was afraid she accused him of being somewhat of a voyeur and someone interested in kinky sex.

She was relieved when he laughed and replied, “Oh you think I’m gay. That’s a new one on me.”

“No, no, no,” she protested.

“Corrine, I see you as I’ve always seen you, as an attractive young lady who is also a very nice person and I hope a friend.”

Corrine was relieved. This man was truly special, she knew.

“I’m sorry I asked the question,” she said. “It’s just that a girl like me has to be careful.”

“Don’t be sorry. I understand your concerns. I know girls like you often are treated badly by men who might want to beat you up or cause you other harm. To me, you’re all woman and I know how hard you work, how truly balanced you are and how warm and lovely you can be. I’m pleased to have such a great woman as my friend and partner.”

“Oh Larry,” she said, overwhelmed by his words. She rose from her chair and leaned over, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. It was a kiss of two friends, not of two lovers.

*****
Corrine knew her gender issues were not a state secret; after all, virtually all of the customers at her mother’s salon had witnessed the change from Corey to Corrine; her registration at the University had been switched between her freshman and sophomore years. She had become so engrossed in the world of women and girls that she rarely thought of herself as anything but female. Other women accepted her as one of them; her girlfriends chatted with her as if she had been born a girl. Her gender question seemed only to rise when she considered her relationship with Adam and, it appeared, when in the company of Larry Wilkins. She still needed sexual reassignment surgery to make her a woman with whom a man could find sexual satisfaction; that, she figured was several years off, probably upon graduation from the University.

Would Adam Hartmann wait three or four years before he could have intercourse with her? Could a healthy, vigorous young man like him resist the temptations of other women for that long? Was she not being selfish in hanging onto his love and should she not set him free? It was a question that dogged her constantly.

Corrine saw less and less of Amy Hartmann; yet, they both considered each other’s BFF. Amy’s school workload, her part-time job in Milwaukee and her ongoing affair with Josh kept the girl busy, as did Corrine’s schoolwork and attention to her new business keep her out of circulation.

“Let’s move into a place together,” Amy suggested one Wednesday noon as they shared a quick lunch in the Student Union. “I know of a two-bedroom upper in Riverwest that’s for rent and I think with sharing the rent it would be cheaper than the dorm.”

“I don’t know that I should leave mom,” Corrine replied.

“You’re hardly home with her anyway, Corky,” Amy said, adopting the nickname used by her brother.

“I know, but she’d be all alone.”

“Didn’t you tell me she’s got a boyfriend now?”

“Mom? Yes, she does and he’s a sweetie, but I don’t know if it’ll last. You know how fussy mom is about men.”

“You’ve got your own life now,” Amy argued. “This place will be less than a mile from your new business and an easy walk to the campus as well.”
In the end, Corrine agreed to move into the upper on N. Weil St in the Riverwest area, so named because it was on the west bank of the Milwaukee River. It was a racially diverse neighborhood of 100-year-old homes crammed onto narrow lots that had originally been occupied by the families of workers (typically Polish or Italian) from the nearby factories that had once been prominent in the area.

Mr. Santelli, the landlord, was easily in his eighties and a longtime widower. Still active in Italian community events and the Democratic Party, the man welcomed the two girls warmly. The upper flat covered the entire second floor of the aging building that was clean and recently remodeled. Two moderate-sized bedrooms took up the north side of the building with a bathroom in between. A fully-equipped kitchen and a living room constituted the south half of the flat.

“It’s ideal, Mr. Santelli,” Amy gushed as she and Corrine were shown the unit.

“You look like nice girls,” the man said, his voice still retaining his native Italian inflections.

“We’re both good students, sir, and have busy lives, so I don’t think we’ll be any bother,” Amy said.

“Ah, but you’re lovely young ladies and I’m sure you have male admirers. Now, my Sophia, bless her soul, and me never went to bed together until our wedding night, but we did raise three daughters and we know the world has changed.”

“What?” Corrine interjected.

“Well, girls,” he said, his tone becoming awkward. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t mind you having your boyfriends up there, but I don’t want to see a parade of different boys coming in and out, if you know what I mean?”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Mr. Santelli,” Corrine assured him. “We’re both in committed relationships; Amy’s boyfriend might come in a bit, but mine is 300 miles away.”

Josh and several of his friends helped the girls move in several weeks later, finishing with a small house party that included beer, snacks and cake when the move-in was completed. They invited Mr. Santelli to join them and he welcomed them with some homemade wine. He regaled them with stories of growing up in Sicily, of living through the horrors of first German and then Allied occupation of the country during World War II and his early days in Milwaukee and finding work at the old Seaman Body plant that was nearby. The girls marveled at how the man could extract humorous situations out of what must have been most difficult times for him and his young bride.

“Mr. Santelli has the right outlook on life, doesn’t he?” Amy observed as the two girls prepared to spend their first night in the flat.

“He does, seeing only good in people. I hope I can do that.”

“You will Corrine. I just know you will.”

“Shall we sleep together tonight, Amy?” Corrine asked. “I’ve missed you.”

“Lets. I don’t think either Adam or Josh would care. Besides I missed you.”

The pair jammed together on Corrine’s single twin bed, their arms and legs intertwined caressing and kissing. They were careful, however, to resist overt sexual behaviors, even though both were aroused.