***FYI This is the first of three chapters that will be shared here on BC***

CHAPTER ONE

I remember back in grade school taking classes that felt like they’d never end. Rambling, boring lessons from teachers who barely cared about the material — perhaps even less than the students themselves. Students would watch the clock’s hands gradually work their way around the face till the bell rang, only to shuffle off to another room to repeat the process eight more times that day.

Looking back, I truly can’t believe I survived 12 whole years of that — not to mention another four years of college, albeit with a much looser schedule. But parents, educators, and society as a whole require it. What else can you do but chug along?

“Colin!” my colleague, Josh, called out firmly, mere feet to my left.

Any time an attorney approaches your desk, it could mean only one thing: a fresh load of work.

I swiveled my desk chair and looked at him nervously.

“Yep?”

Without a greeting or an ounce of small talk, a stack of messy folders was heaved onto my desk, startling me with a loud thump.
“The top ones are records I need reviewed and summarized. The blue folders on the bottom are for the retention letters I mentioned yesterday…” The heavyset, 40-something lawyer paused for a moment, nearly expressing sympathy. “...though it’s about double what I thought.”

My eyes widened as the sheer amount of sudden work emotionally hit me like a truck.

“You good?”

I quickly swallowed my shakiness and nodded. “End of week, right?”

A slick smile from Josh. “Please and thank you!”

I held my composure barely long enough for Josh to be out of sight before letting out an enormous sigh of frustration.

Believe it or not, out of all Nexus Law Group attorneys, Josh was one of the nicer ones. Though maybe ‘nice’ is too strong of a word. While none of the partners or other attorneys are exactly mean to us paralegals, we’re usually treated as if we simply don’t exist. Mindless worker bees here to do their bidding. And sometimes, that’s just as annoying.

With a disappointed huff, I turned back to my computer where a cluttered mess of browser tabs and digital documents waited for me, filling up every inch of my monitor.

However, before jumping into my assignments from today or even any of the crap Josh threw on my desk, I had one piece of business to take care of.

I stood up from my desk and checked the hallway to make sure no one would be popping in unexpectedly. The office was quiet.
With the coast clear, I returned to my computer and slyly pulled up the one hidden browser tab from my dock at the bottom.

See, the reason I or anyone else was able to survive all those years of boring, repetitive grade school is that of those eight class periods, there’s one that really grabs you. One that inspires you and keeps you going. For the aspiring engineers, it’s math class. For doctors, it’s science. Me? It’s a profound love of history. But not just any history — mythology.

‘Welcome to PopMyth!’, the letters spelled out in beautiful, burnt-orange calligraphy at the top of the webpage. My webpage.

I know, I know… a paralegal who moonlights as a mythology blogger? Well, let me explain.

Ever since my school days, I’ve been obsessed with reading about, learning about, and absorbing anything and everything mythical and mystical. Greek, Norse, Chinese, Aztec — you name it, I’m into it. The idea of real-world heroes and heroines interacting with the Gods, embarking on quests, and influencing society as we know it is, to me, the coolest thing in the world. It’s a passion I knew I needed to share with the world.

So what does PopMyth do? Well, we’re a community of Mythology-lovers who come together to discuss, debate, and learn about every culture’s belief system and the stories and tales that arise from those beliefs. What began as a hobby in high school grew into a popular forum with hundreds of weekly users.

I was never a numbers guy. The thought of doing math problems gave me fits. Nor was I blessed with a knack for original storytelling. And don’t get me started on my athleticism. A short, skinny, clumsy kid with long, wavy blonde hair is hardly fit to take the field in any sport. Not to mention failing to look the part.

But mythology found me and I embraced it with open arms. Simply put, it’s what keeps me going.

“Sneaky sneaky!” another voice called from the hallway – though this time a much more welcome one: my friend, Gigi.

I let out a high-pitched yelp, nearly spilling my drink as I moved to minimize the browser. “Jesus, Gigi…”

Gigi Stewart — my fun, bubbly, and beautiful fellow paralegal and closest friend in the office — scooted into my cubicle, sheepishly tossing her auburn hair behind her shoulder. She looked a bit guilty for startling me.

“Sorry!” she said, quieter this time. “Guess I’m starstruck witnessing the famous PopMyth blogger in action!” Gigi glanced down at my stack of folders. “Yikes…”

I rolled my eyes, lamenting the workload spike. “I should probably get back to it...”

Gigi shook her head and grabbed my wrist before I could even reach for the mouse. Her hands were dainty and her wrists thin, accentuating the sparkly new engagement ring she received from her boyf— er, fiancé just about a month ago.

“Nuh-uh!” she exclaimed. “No more work. I have a surprise for you in the kitchen.”

Unlike most people in this office who motivated you via intimidation or status, Gigi did so through her own, undeniably likeability. Not only was she obscenely pretty, but she had an ‘it factor’ that made saying no to her nearly impossible. It didn’t matter if we were the same level. To a certain degree, that girl had me in the palm of her hand.

I took one last look at my disgustingly large pile of papers. “Maybe I could use a break.”

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The kitchen and break room at Nexus Law Group weren’t particularly comfortable or enjoyable places to spend time. Used almost exclusively by paralegals and other support staff, it was extremely rare to see an attorney or especially a partner step foot here. But it’s not for lack of funds.

From my nearly two years at Nexus, I’ve come to the safe conclusion that they are not struggling for cash. The partners drive the fanciest cars, we’re constantly landing new clients, and it feels like each month our work lives get busier and busier.

But such is life at a law firm in Calabasas, California — the exorbitantly wealthy suburb of Los Angeles best known as the home of the Kardashians and a gazillion other celebrities. It’s close enough to the heart of Hollywood where you benefit from its glitziness, but far enough away that you’re not smothered by it.

Wealth, status, and importance are everywhere you look in Calabasas. Those who have it usually flash it loud and proud, but every once in a while you’ll find someone who, impressively, isn’t a jerk about it. But even the subtle and ‘measured’ rich folks aren’t immune to the inadvertent boast.

“Gah, isn’t it just so pretty!?” Gigi waved her giant rock of an engagement ring in my face for probably the hundredth time since last month’s engagement.

“It’s a gorgeous ring,” I nodded along mindlessly. “Kyle has great taste.”

Gigi wasn’t doing any of this to brag. She genuinely is excited, and I’m genuinely so thrilled for her. From the bottom of my heart, Gigi’s wins feel like my own.

I’d met Kyle a handful of times when he’d come by the office to drop something off or just to say hello. A kind, thoughtful man who clearly loves Gigi. I mean, that’s all that matters, right?

Gigi wagged her finger. “But Colin, don’t forget. You’re still my work husband.”

She extended her hand forward with just her pinky finger sticking out. I matched her move, linking and locking our pinky fingers with a smile.
“And you’re still my work wife.”

Gigi giggled. “Good! And let’s never divorce!”

It’s silly, I know. But ‘work wife’ and ‘work husband’ were how we referred to our office friendship. It’s a common term used to describe a close platonic relationship at the office — one that had no chance of turning into anything romantic, but ensured we’d always have each other’s backs. And locking pinkies was a silly move we came up with to renew our ‘work marriage vows’. Cringey? Maybe. But it’s our thing.

Gigi is without a doubt my closest friend in the office, and I consider myself lucky to have her support through the ups and downs and stresses this job can bring. Through late nights, early mornings, and emotional spirals, we were always there for each other. In fact, we’re coming up on a full year of ‘work marriage’. How sweet!

The only thing that’s a tad strange about our friendship — and, as I understand, many work marriages — is that they often don’t extend outside the office. Sure, we’d done happy hours with coworkers and we shared plenty of stories from our personal lives — but hanging out? It’s not really something we did. Despite the countless days, weeks, and months spent together, the fact we aren’t ‘real life’ friends I found kind of surprising.

In the middle of munching my sandwich, I finally remembered why we were here.

“Oh, what’s this surprise you were talking about?” I asked.

She paused for a moment, nearly forgetting it herself.

“Ah! You’re right!” she exclaimed, then peeked around the empty kitchen to confirm privacy. “I have quite the announcement…”

Gigi once again gestured to her massive ring.

I smirked, chuckling. “I know. You’ve shown me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not the ring.” Gigi leaned in. “The wedding. It’s been set. The second week of November.”

It took me a moment to register what she’d just said as my eyes widened.

“Wait… Already? You’ve been engaged for what, three or four weeks?” Then another thing occurred to me. It’s already September. “November of this year? That’s like, less than two months away!”

She nodded excitedly.

I’m far from an expert on weddings, but even I know planning one in six months is quick, much less six weeks. But as crazy as it all sounded, I regretted that my first response wasn’t an unquestionably positive one. Gigi deserved the warmest reception possible from her work husband.

“I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Gigi congrats, seriously.” I got up from my seat and rushed over to hug her. “This is so so SO incredible. Spill the details, I want to know everything!”

But Gigi didn’t immediately jump into details. Her smirk suggested she had something else.

“Well… There’s more to it than that.”

She took a step toward the kitchen cabinets, opening the top one and pulling out this glittery, light pink box. Then Gigi handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

Gigi said nothing, just gesturing for me to open it.

Unwrapping the thick, glittery ribbon on the unmarked box felt eerily dramatic. Like I was about to be presented with a treasure map, or even treasure itself.

But it wasn’t a map. And it definitely wasn’t treasure. Propped up on the inside of the box was a note with five words written in a fancy, feminine font.

Will you be my Bridesmaid?

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Two more sample chapters coming this week, but the entire book is available right now on Amazon!

Thanks friends :)

-Jennifer

AMAZON LINK: https://www.amazon.com/Will-You-Be-Bridesmaid-Feminization-e...