Hi gang. I'm still working on Wildcat Fall. I've written 35.000 words and twenty chapters. But I figured I could try out some new characters and story. It's just a work in progress, but hopefully will be fun for you, too.
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Accounting
Chapter One
His resume was stacked neatly with the other four. Looking through all of them, she went back to examine his photo. After studying it, she told Julia to arrange interviews with all five. The next day, she saw that her executive assistant had added ten-minute interviews for each of the candidates to her morning. He was third, which was good because having several others to compare him with almost made it a fair assessment. She smiled. Of course, when you’re the boss, the only fair thing is whatever you want.
She chuckled. She hadn’t worked this hard just to put her company on automatic. She’d made sure that they were a success from the moment she’d left Roberts, Steward. It didn’t hurt that her protegé and silent partner gave her carte blanche on how she wanted things done. Taking that as a sign of confidence, she micro-managed everything that took place in the offices.
Miriam Gold was a wonderful woman, almost old enough to be her mother, but still vibrant and very alive. She worshipped her, and their love was pure. Each day, she said a small prayer of thanks to the woman who underwrote her vision.
When hiring, Human Resources will remind you not to judge someone on their appearance. Still, there was something magnetic about his face. He had long, thick, wavy, dirty blonde hair. He was tall enough, but he did not have the muscular physique typically associated with a first-year college student. No, he was willow slender, almost feminine, which endeared him to her immediately. She’d ask each of the candidates the same ten questions and watch as Julia took notes. Of course, they recorded everything, but still liked having a written transcript to refer to.
She knew that Charles was going to be her intern, but that they would also hire two others: one female, Kathy, and one male, Diego. All three would work with the CPAs, handling the drudge work of taxes and general accounting that kept the business running.
D Mitchel Associates handled a lot more than taxes. Offering payroll, website development, annual reports, and providing whatever it takes for a Fortune 500 company to operate successfully, D Mitchel Associates’ mantra was, ‘Ask and you shall receive.’
Charles and the others would come to work after classes, and in the summer. By the time they were juniors, they’d be offered five-year contracts, allowing the firm to retain them after they graduated. The company did that every year, and a few of them stuck it out and became valued employees.
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Chapter Two
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He was nervous when the secretary informed him that Diane Mitchell herself would be conducting the interview on Friday at 11 am. Just thinking about a real interview with the CEO of the best firm in the state turned his stomach inside out.
Two days gave him enough time to head to a thrift store and search out a suit. Exploring the town, he came across a funky resale clothing shop about two blocks off Main Street that offered exactly what he needed.
When he walked in, he was greeted by an older woman wearing a turban and a caftan. Admiring the brightly colored materials, he noted that she had enough presence to carry it off.
“Good Morning, young man. How can I help you?”
His throat seized before any words came out of his mouth. While the woman carried herself well, she’d just made it clear that she wasn’t a woman, but a cross-dresser. Her voice was melodious and very feminine, but also deeper than it should have been.
Recovering, he tried to smile. “Uh, yes, hi. I’m looking for a suit for an interview on Friday morning.”
She walked around him, sizing him up. The woman was much taller than his five feet seven inches. Realizing she was wearing stilettos, he couldn’t help but grin.
“You’re a thirty-six regular. Give me a second and let me see what I have on the racks. I assume you’ll also need a good Egyptian cotton dress shirt, socks, and shoes? Right?”
All the student could hear were the dollar signs ringing up in his head. “Uh, yes. But I don’t have a lot of money.”
“Well, honey,” she said as she pulled a navy blazer and khaki pants off the rack and hung them up, “If you get the job, you’ll have a paycheck and the need for more office wear, right?”
He nodded as she reached out with a manicured nail and signaled that he needed to take off his shirt. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and folded it on a handy chair.
The shop owner looked him over. “Well, you look like a worker bee, so I’m sure you’ll be hired. Where are you interviewing?”
“D Mitchell. As an intern.”
She smiled as she pulled out a new shirt, unwrapped it from the plastic, and removed the pins. “Honey, you are a cutie, and if you have any brains, you’ll get the job. Did you meet Diane?”
He shook his head and started to button up a new white dress shirt. It was a little disarming when the person ran their hand along his chest and smiled.
She purred. “I love a man who’s smooth and slim. Do you shave your body?”
He shook his head, nervous about how close she was standing. “No. I think it’s because my family comes from Norway.”
The next thing Charles knew, the woman was unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. Before he could say anything, she was pulling up an expensive pair of khakis. As she passed over his crotch, she smiled. “Do you tuck right or left?”
Having no idea what she meant, she ran her fingertips over his genitals. “Oh, you’re a lefty.” She pulled his new pants up and threaded a leather belt through the loops.
Charles was having trouble breathing.
After slipping on the blazer, she turned him so he could gaze into a three-way mirror. As she ran her hands over his body, smoothing out the wrinkles, he could smell her perfume, and could feel her hands touching him everywhere. Her manicure was deep maroon, one of the colors in her dress.
Charlie looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. “This is perfect. How did you know?”
She waved her hands and smiled. She pulled a pair of dress shoes off a rack. “Oh, baby. I’ve undressed some of the cutest men you could ever imagine. It’s who I am.” She stuck out her hand and smiled. “I’m Daphne.”
He shook her hand gently, realizing that he was treating her how she presented herself. “I’m Charles Andersen.”
“Well, Charles, let’s see if you fit in a size nine dress shoe.”
“Thank you, Daphne.”
“Well, Charles. I’m here to help you find more office wear, and when it comes time to help you become fashion forward, I’m your gal.” When Charles left, he carried a paper bag and a garment bag with the name of her store on the sides.
As he walked down the street back to his dorm room, he mentally thought about all the summer dresses she had on display.
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Chapter Three
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Michelle walked along Second Street in her new college town. It was a Monday afternoon, and she was excited to be there. She’d gotten off the Greyhound Bus early that morning. She walked over to the Bursar’s office to establish her ID. She received her dorm location along with a large packet of information.
The woman behind the Bursar’s desk smiled. “Michelle, I think you’re the first one to arrive here this semester. We always have a few early birds who like to arrive before summer school starts, but since you’re the first, I can offer you a choice of rooms. Would you like a top-floor room with a view of the campus or the river? If it were me, I’d choose the river. That side is much quieter, and the echo off the student mall can be annoying.”
Michelle nodded. “The river, please.” She turned and imagined the river and the campus. “Is that the northern side of the building?”
Marge Thurman thought for a moment. “Yes, it is. Are you an artist?”
Michelle nodded.
“Oh, yes.” The woman looked at her file. “You’re an Art History major with a minor in Fine Arts. Well, you’ve come to the right school. We have some terrific professors who will be teaching you. We are affiliated with several fine museums in Philadelphia, where you’ll be volunteering. I know that you’ll have fun. And I see that you’re also on a full ride, which means all your books and art materials are covered as well. Whatever you don’t have in the Student Center, simply go over to Main Street and look for the Artist’s Corner. Tell them that Miriam sent you and charge it to me.”
“Thank you very much. Supplies are expensive.”
“Well, since most of your books are online, you’ll just need to use your college ID to access them. And for your summer classes, you’ll have The History of Asian Art, Modern Twentieth Century Modernists, and Accounting.”
“Accounting? But that’s not listed in my major.”
“Well, part of your fine arts education is business. You’ll eventually appreciate what you study here. It might not seem essential now, but you’ll come to thank us later.”
After she found her dorm room and unpacked, she used the enclosed map to find the Student Medical Center. Picking up her health file out of her luggage, she found her way to the building and followed the signs. She smiled at the secretary and stood there.
When the woman looked up, she politely said, “I’m Michelle Taylor, and I’ve brought my health file with me from home.”
The secretary nodded. “Welcome, Michelle Taylor. My name is Claire Schwartz. Do I have permission to review your records? It’s standard procedure for me to monitor you while you are here. I’m a Registered Nurse, and HIPAA standards apply to me, too.”
Michelle handed the woman her folder and watched as she looked through it.
Claire read as she asked her questions. “Michelle, when did you receive your last hormone shot?”
“I saw my doctor last Wednesday. I don’t get another shot for three weeks. But I will need to have my prescription filled at a pharmacy.”
The nurse retrieved her prescription and reviewed it. “Right. From now on, you’ll just come to me, and we’ll have it ready, just like your shot. It’s all part of Campus Health Care. I suggest that you make your appointments for Wednesdays or Thursdays, the lines are much, much shorter. Mondays and Tuesdays are always crowded with students who got banged up over the weekend.”
Michelle was nodding.
“And you’ll need to see our doctor, too. I’m setting you up for Thursday afternoon at one this week. She’ll need to undergo an intake with her Nurse Practitioner, and then the doctor will examine you as well. Allow ninety minutes for your appointment.”
Michelle stood there. “Anything else?”
The nurse smiled. “Nope. I’ll have your script ready when we see you on Thursday. And by the way, we don’t use the term trans here. To us, you are simply cataloged as female.”
After all that, she walked downtown and began window shopping, looking at dresses and daydreaming. She couldn’t have been happier. Being out on her own and going full-time was a dream come true. Now, she was living her real life. Michelle realized that she was humming to herself. As she stared at some cute summer outfits through a large glass window, she lost track of time and never noticed the woman standing next to her until she spoke.
“Do you see anything you like?”
Michelle was startled and jumped back a bit. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there, and you surprised me.” She was pleased that she automatically used the voice she’d been practicing for over a year. Smiling at the woman who she guessed was from the shop, Michelle got a chance to study her. She had frosted blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail, secured with a wide black velvet band. With a perfect complexion and large diamonds in her ears, she looked like a success. She was wearing a black blouse and matching Capris. Everything about her said class.
“Yes.” Michelle turned and pointed. “I love the light blue dress with the small flowers on it.” She pointed to a summer dress.
Suzanne Hampton looked her over, admiring her thick, curly brown hair that fell over her shoulders. She saw the gold hoops and smiled. The teen was her height and adorable. She seemed very comfortable in ‘her’ skin. She had a beautiful face and wore minimal makeup, consisting only of mascara, liner, and lip stain. “I’ll bet we have that in your size. C’mon in.” She reached out and took her hand, admiring her manicure and polish.
Michelle stopped. “Oh, no. I can’t impose on you. And well, truthfully, I don’t think that it would fit in my budget. Until I find a part-time job, my money is tight.”
Suzanne kept gently pulling on her until they reached the entrance to her store. “Well, I’m looking to hire someone. Maybe we could work something out.”
“I don’t know. I could use a job, but not everyone wants to hire a trans girl. I’m Michelle.”
Suzanne laughed. She touched the girl’s shoulders and turned around to look at the Pride Flag flying above her storefront window. “Well, this store is LGBTQ friendly. So being trans might be an asset if you work here. Are you attending Delaware?”
Michelle was nodding as she looked the woman over carefully. “Oh, yes. I’ve come in early. I received a scholarship that covered my tuition, as well as free room and board. After graduating from high school, there was nothing to keep me in Chincoteague, so I'm here. It was a win-win. Mom and Dad wanted me out, and I was grateful to go.”
Suzanne briefly saw her sad expression. “Well, hun. We don’t live in a perfect world, but I’m happy you came my way. You’re eighteen, right?”
“Yes, my birthday was in April. That’s when I could start my estrogen. I’d been on blockers for a while, before that, but it’s complicated.” Michelle, she said to herself, ‘stop talking.’ She knew one of her biggest social errors was talking too much. She had a bad habit of answering simple yes-or-no questions with a paragraph. She did that when she was nervous.
Suzanne smiled. She remembered being eighteen and anxious. “Well, I want to hear your story. But let’s get inside out of the sun.”
As they walked into the store, Michelle was grinning as she took in the surroundings. The inside was larger than she’d anticipated and filled with clothing everywhere. “Oh, wow! This is great,” she said, looking around.
“Well, that’s why I need a worker who can lift boxes and stock shelves. I figure while you’re unloading new inventory, you’ll become familiar with what we sell. But let’s take a look at that dress. “I’m guessing that you’re a six.” Suzanne took a dress off the rack and turned to Michelle. She held it up against her body. “You are such a skinny thing. C’mon, let’s see how it fits.”
For a second, Michelle thought that the woman expected her to strip down right in front of her. But instead, it led her back to a row of doors. She unlocked one and opened it. As she held the door open, Michelle walked in. She turned, and Suzanne handed her the hanger.
“How are you fixed for underwear, Michelle? Store employees receive a fifty percent discount. And I really like it when my girls can model our inventory. Let me get my tape and pick out some new underwear, too.”
After the door closed, Michelle stepped out of her shorts and pulled her tee over her head. She carefully hung everything on hooks, then she waited.
Suzanne looked in her eyes when she walked into the changing room. “Well, only three months on hormones, so I guess you use shapers, right?”
Michelle was blushing and nodding. Hopefully, in a year or two, the estrogen will give her the curves she prayed for, but for now, inexpensive cotton pads would have to do.
Suzanne ran her tape above and below her bra. She wrapped it around her waist, then around her hips and bottom. After she did that, she stood back. “I have much better quality pads that are soft and feel real. I’m going to flatter you just a bit, so your clothes will do the talking for you. I’ll be right back.”
Michelle stood there in her underwear, feeling self-conscious and chilly. She knew it might be nerves, but suddenly she needed to use the restroom. She’d seen the sign right next to the dressing rooms. Quickly, she pulled on her shirt and shorts and dashed out.
She was just returning when Suzanne appeared carrying several boxes. “Oh, good. I saw you dash out and wondered if you were leaving. I hate to be too pushy, but you seem like a worthwhile cause.”
As Michelle was handling the pads, she looked at Suzanne. “Why are you being so nice to me? I’m just some poor, confused kid who doesn’t have much to offer.”
Suzanne nodded, then reached out and hugged her. “I was once you. Twenty years ago, I wanted to be something different. Back then, there weren’t many people who wanted to discuss gender and confusion. I had to search hard to find an ally. Well, I’m into paying it forward, and you seem like a good kid. I want to help you. Now, speaking of helping, let's see how you look with an A cup.”
Michelle took the beautiful pale blue bra from her hands. It had softly padded cups, and Suzanne showed her how to press the inserts against her skin. Michelle glanced in the mirror, and the tears started rolling down her face. “Oh, this is so beautiful. Thank you.” She reached her arms out and hugged the woman. “Thank you.”
Suzanne laughed. “Oh, stop. We’re going to have a great time together. Now, do you use a gaff or simply tuck?”
“Michelle went into full blush mode. “Well, part of my treatment was to neuter me. My dad was so angry with the doctors and my mom that he made sure I was on blockers before fourteen. So I’ve never had very much down there, and it just folds up in my underwear.” She pulled her panties out so that Suzanne could see.
“Well, that’s going to be easy. Here’s the matching panties. Slide these on, and then we can play with pads. The hip and butt pads featured a gentle adhesive that stays in place. I’ll also provide you with the adhesive and the solvent. Unless you take off your clothes, no one is going to know.”
Then, Suzanne brought out the dress, hung it up, and left.
As Michelle looked it over, she touched the soft, cotton-blend fabric. It was beautifully made, and she ran her hand along the double stitching around the spaghetti straps and the zipper in the back. She stepped into it and, as she zipped it up, turned to examine the fit in the mirror. As she was looking, there was a knock, and naturally, she invited Suzanne into the small changing room.
Suzanne opened the door and smiled. “Perfect! It is you. I love the way it hugs your waist. But I brought you a few pairs of the underwear we sell. I think you need to try it on for size.”
As she turned and left, Michelle had a chance to examine the matching bras and panties sets. As she ran her fingers across the padded cups, she smiled. Of course, she wore forms. She had A-cup pads and small rump and hip pads double-taped to her panties. As she examined the expensive sets, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d never owned underwear this nice.
When she lived at home, her mother would always look for sales because her father would fly into a rage if she knew that his teen son was cross-dressing in public. The relationship between father and son had long since ended, and his dad barely managed to hold his anger in check. Even though the counselor and the psychiatrist had both agreed that she was transgender, Michelle’s father remained in denial.
His father only agreed to testosterone blockers because it would permanently castrate the boy. He refused to be seen with the long-haired, effeminate boy, and the idea that this was his son made him mad.
After putting her shorts and T-shirt back on, she gathered up all the clothing and returned it to Suzanne. “These clothes are beautiful, but even with your discount, I could not afford them.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen. We will write down all the items I give you, and someday, it will all even out. I know that you’re going to be the best worker I’ve ever had.”
Michelle smiled and almost cried. This woman was so lovely. “Thank you for your vote of confidence. What time do you want me to come to work?”
Suzanne smiled. “Well, if you want, I have boxes to unpack and inventory to count. I’ll buy you lunch and dinner if you can stay. We can work together and get to know each other.
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Comments
Interesting start……..
I’m interested in seeing how the two plot lines come together. Accounting seems to be the only point in common - although one character is transgender, and the other seems to be potentially at least a cross dresser.
D. Eden
“Hier stehe ich; ich kann nicht anders. Gott helfe mir.”
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
hmmm
Dear D. Eden
Thanks for reading and writing. Paths will cross. L
nice start
I look forward to seeing where you take the story
Thanks
Dear Dorothy,
Thank you for taking the time to reach out and comment. It’s a slow start but will hopefully entertain. We’ll see.
Internships
I regard these as a form of slavery. If you work for someone you deserve to be paid, even if it's a pittance. Where I started we had apprenticeships and we were paid. They usually lasted for two to three years. It may be different these days.
I was very happy to see that an Arts course included Accounting. At least a graduate would be able to put a value on their work. One of my big bitches about Engineering courses is that they don't include Management and Valuation, which, in my view is one of the most important facets of the industry.
I think you've made a great start here, Leslie. I'm looking forward to the rest of the story.
FWIW
My middle son graduated from the University of Texas El Paso (UTEP) with a degree in Civil Engineering. I spent the better part of my civilian career in Contracting and Program Management on government R&D programs. He took a number of business/management courses and has never regretted it. After graduation he told me that it was hearing me talk about the few engineers who understood the business side and how they were able to get better assignments earlier in their careers because of that knowledge. As for internships; ours were paid - the government cannot accept free work, so there is that.
After spending a good part of my life on active duty……
With the US Navy, when I left active duty after over two decades (I still to this day carry my commission in the reserves as the Navy will not let me go), I was hired as a Director of Operations by a logistics company. I have worked for several companies since that time running their supply chain operations - something which the US Navy is very good at. As an example, at the beginning of Desert Shield, the US Navy moved an amount of personnel and material equivalent to a city the size of Knoxville, TN, from the United States to Saudi Arabia in less than three months time. No other country in the world was capable of doing that.
But the point of this comment is that accounting and people management are key to any job. I have two degrees, my undergraduate degree (BSChE) was in chemical engineering, while my graduate degree (MEM) was in engineering management. But what you generally will find is that no matter what field you work in, the higher you progress within an organization, the more you will become involved in accounting and personnel management. In fact, I often complained to my spouse (who is a CPA) that I felt more and more like an accountant as my civilian career progressed.
When my youngest son came to me before he started college and asked me what he should major in, I told him that I couldn’t tell him what he should do with his life - only he could decide that. However, the advice I did give him was that if didn’t know what he wanted to do, that a good option was always either a degree in accounting or a degree in business management or administration. He would always find a job with either of those, and that no matter what he ended up doing, both would be beneficial to him.
D. Eden
“Hier stehe ich; ich kann nicht anders. Gott helfe mir.”
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
There are in fact paid internships…….
I had a paid intern in my office for several years. It really depends on the employer as to whether or not an internship is paid, but by law in the United States the only way an internship can be unpaid is if their is no relationship between the intern and the employer - in other words, the intern is not classified as an employee.
What this means is that the internship is considered to be part of the academic curriculum, and the intern receives credits toward their degree for the internship. The academic credit comes from the college or university which the intern attends, and the “relationship” with the employer is considered to be the same as between professor and student - rather than between employer and employee.
My interns were always paid, but I was also required to submit regular evaluations to their school, as well as a final evaluation at the end of their internship which determined whether they “passed” the class or not. They were also required to give both a written paper on the company and what they did/learned, and an oral presentation before their class. I had to attend all of those oral presentations and be available to answer questions from the class as well.
For some reason, my employer decided that I was the most qualified to work with the interns, lol. We worked with Penn State and their Supply Chain Management degree program. Their students were required to do an internship as part of the program.
D. Eden
“Hier stehe ich; ich kann nicht anders. Gott helfe mir.”
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
Interns and your quote
Dear D.
Interns are workers and responsible for what they do. I believe they should be paid. If it's part of a school curriculum, you should still get paid. Colleges should account for the 'free education' they are giving students as they charge vast amounts. Just like student athletes should be compensated especially since Universities reap the rewards of sports.
So I looked up your quote because I wasn't familiar with it. But here's another take on what you have...
On 18 April 1521, Martin Luther stood before the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V to defend himself against charges of heresy. As he rose to his conclusion, he supposedly uttered the famous words, Hier stehe ich; ich kann nicht anders. Gott hilf mir (Here I stand, I cannot do otherwise. So help me God). In fact, he didn’t actually say that, but instead offered a prosaic disclaimer about not being convinced from Scripture of the need to recant his views. But since when have the facts kept us from rewriting history to suit our taste for the dramatic? So it is with a sense of irony that I, five hundred years later, rise to this occasion to say what Luther never said: Hier stehe ich. Here I stand.
this is from the internet (and we know how much nonsense is written here) from a site called shapeandsubstance.com
Internships
Dear Joanne,
Thanks for taking the time to read and write. In this case, the intern is being paid. I'm going out on a limb here by saying the minimum wage should be $20 per hour.
I believe that all artists should have enough business courses to deal with the real world. Real world preparedness is a big deal to me.
Glad you are onboard with the start of this story.
L
College Towns...
...can be great places; even in our current world. I think I'm gingto enjoy this story.
College Towns
I agree. I'm modeling this one on Newark, DE and the University of Delaware. It has to be a compromise and allow for a little artist's license. Of course, everything changes faster than a traffic light.
L
Nice to know you're wanted
Two people both wanted where they are—waiting to see where the story goes.
Jessie C
Jessica Connors