DANNY Chapter 52 by Roberta J. Cabot This is a story about Daniel, a guy with a unique talent and an even more unique problem: A great singing voice and the looks of his gorgeous sister. And how he and his family deal with his having breasts. And how he ends up as the female lead singer for a high-school cover band as well as a radio DJ. Morgan, Jerry and the others got part-time jobs to run the station's new website, and they posted the station's new posters on the site. Bootleg copies of their posters started to crop up all over school and in town. This causes a big stir and the band and the station got more fans. And, as the new website went from strength to strength, everyone got lot of email. One of these was for Robin - an offer for her to some modeling for a fashion house. Whuuut? Never a dull moment with Batch Fourteen, and Dan & his gang.

  Chapter Fifty-Two: Twin Cities

***** (Danny) *****

It seemed Danielle was reading a letter from someone named Sarah Michelle Rhodes from an agency called Blumenfeld House. I didn't know her or that company, but Nikki explained excitedly that Blumenfeld was one of the top ten fashion houses in the country.

"Top ten?" I said, not seeing any significance in that. "Well, cool, I guess…"

Nikki sighed and gave me a kiss on top of my head like a mother would to a clueless child who didn't know any better.

"So what about this Rhodes person?" I asked.

"Well," Danielle said, "it seems she's one of the top people in Blumenfeld, and she says she knows a bit about Robin because of Sally Marshall."

"Okay? So?"

Danielle sighed. Oh, boy. Stereo sighing…

"Since she knows Sally, that means this lady's legit. And she says that she saw our posters, and she's interested in signing up Robin as a model."

"Whoa…" Morgan said and drifted over. "Lemme see that."

Danielle passed her tablet over, and we crowded around Morgan.

"It says here that she saw our posters," Morgan read, ", as well as the CNN piece, and she said Robin has a certain quality that told her she could be a great model. She also saw Sally in the posters, and said she had worked on several ad campaigns for them. She asked Sally about Robin, and Sally had nothing but good things to say, so she's asking Robin to come over for a chat, and to ask her if she'd be interested in becoming a model."

"Robin only?" Mike asked. "How about Dannie?"

Morgan read through it again. "No. She didn't mention Dannie."

"What!" Mike exclaimed in surprise. It was like he couldn't believe it.

"She says she'll wait for an answer," Morgan said, "and if Robin's open to a meeting, she'll either send a plane ticket, or she'll fly here if need be."

Danielle looked at me. "So what do you think?" she asked me.

"I don't know… Offhand, I don't want to. I mean, why would I want to?"

"Well, why the hell wouldn't you want to!"

"I don't want to be sashaying down runways and posing for pictures for hours and hours. And besides, I'll get caught! Danielle, I'm not really a girl! Robin Tibbles is a made-up person!"

"I don't think you'd be caught. We've been doing this thing for months, and no one's…"

I turned to Nikki. "what do you think?" I asked her.

"Well," she said, "if it were me, I'd jump at the chance, Dan. But I'm a girl. What girl wouldn't want to be a model." She shrugged. I gave her a kiss to show it was okay.

"How about you guys?" I asked.

The guys shook their heads with nothing else to say, while the other girls seemed to think it was a good idea, just like Nikki and Danielle. I saw Tracey had a pensive kind of expression.

"Tracey? What's on your mind?"

"I think I shouldn't say anything."

"Huh? But, why?"

"That's coz I guess you could say I have a conflict of interest."

"What do you mean? It's okay, Trace."

"Well, Danny, if you should become a model, it'd be great for KRPQ. I mean, it'll just be more buzz for the station if our most popular deejay is also a nationally-known model. So…"

I nodded at that, gave her a small kiss to say I understood. "Danielle? Wanna add anything?"

"I guess I feel the same way, Danny," Danielle replied. "I mean, it'd be more exposure for 'Robin,' and, by association, the station and UB. So I'd be pushing for it, seeing as I'm your manager…"

I looked at Danielle and Tracey. "How strong do you guys feel about that?"

The two looked at each other and then back to me. They shrugged.

"Your decision, Danny," Tracey said.

I snorted (but, I hoped, in a friendly way). "Yeah, right…"

"Danny," Danielle protested, "it's your decision…"

I looked at Nikki, and she had the same look on her face.

"Okay," I sighed. "I give. Forward that email to me. But no promises! And, since I don't want her sniffing around here and maybe discovering our secret, I have no choice but to go there to wherever she is… So, where is she from, anyway, Danielle?"

"Minneapolis-St. Paul, in Minnesota."

"Okay. Minnesota. Jeez…"

Tracey and Danielle gave me kisses on the cheek. Danielle clicked something on her tablet and passed it on to me.

I logged her account off, logged back using my Robin profile, opened Sarah Michelle's email, and I started typing my reply.

- - - - -

***** (Sarah Michelle) *****

As I stepped into my apartment, I was ready to fall into bed and sleep despite the fact it was just three pm. We had just put our Summer Catalog's layout to bed, both the print and the Internet versions. It was murder. Finishing all the shoots, dealing with models and their egos, and doing everything so quickly - here in Minnesota, our window for a summer shoot is verrry narrow - and then picking the right pictures, and then the layout, the copy, the ads, and then getting Edwin to sign off. Some of my guys might say that getting Edwin to sign off was the hardest.

This was the longest month of my life… But then again, I always think that after a catalog's put to bed.

Blumenfeld's various lines were doing passably well - just: we were hanging on by our teeth. So it was important to find a way to generate new sales. Not to mention that our "style" was getting pretty dated. So last spring, I had a brainstorm to start a new YA line, hiring new, fresh and cutting-edge designers, opening new displays both in our stores and in our partner retail outlets, and starting a new print campaign with our usual print partners.

But it's been over a year now and our YA line hadn't really caught the market's eye despite the high quality designs, materials, and the usual high-quality manufacture that Blumenfeld is known for. If it doesn't pick up before December, it might be shut down, and I might be out of a job.

And speaking about putting things to bed… I was sooo tired...

Getting a bottle of beer from the fridge (yes, I said "beer" - sue me, I like beer more than wine), I dropped myself into my sofa, sat and just absorbed the peace and quiet, and enjoyed my second-favorite ice-cold San Miguel Dark Lager (I ran out of my favorite Kentucky Brunch Brand Stout, and they didn't have any in stock in the three closest Trader Joe's).

After about an hour, I felt my phone vibrate. In this business, one doesn't pay to ignore calls, texts, messages and emails so I snapped out from my pleasant drowsiness to something like full wakefulness.

It was an email reply from that girl - the one that came out in those Prêt-à-Porter and Rockrgrrl posters. Let's see…

"Dear Ms Rhodes," the girl wrote, "Thank you for your email. I'm quite flattered to hear you're considering me to be one of your talents there at Blumenfeld House. I am open to meeting with you in Minneapolis-Saint Paul, if you are still willing. I've always wanted to visit the Twin Cities, especially your museums.

"However, I will be very honest - at the moment, I am not too interested in a career in fashion as I am very busy with my job and my studies. They are my priorities at the moment. Besides, I am not a professional model, and my work with Prêt-à-Porter Magazine, Rockrgrrl, Alley-Oop, Empire East and so forth was a one-off assignment because of my current work as an announcer at KRPQ Radio here in my new hometown. Whatever impression you may have gotten because of that may have led you to some wrong conclusions. Feel free to talk with my friend and co-worker, Ms Sally Marshall, who I understand you know, and she will confirm what I said.

"With this in mind, if you still wish to meet with me, I can be in Minneapolis-St. Paul this Sunday or the next, provided that I can be back home in the evening, as I have classes the following day. Just let me know the details. I was wondering, however, if I can bring someone else with me. I'm afraid I am not too comfortable traveling alone. (Don't worry - I'll be taking care of my friend's ticket and other costs.)"

My goodness, this girl is a caution! And so very careful in her phrasing. It's like she's speaking lawyerese!

In any case this girl may be the answer to my prayers.

I clicked off the phone and opened up my laptop to reply to her.

"Dear Ms Tibbles," I typed, being equally careful in my words, "I'm so pleased that you have agreed to meet with me. Sunday morning would be absolutely perfect. I'll email you your e-ticket by tonight, as well as a short itinerary with details."

She mentioned a friend because she doesn't want to travel alone. I could go to her instead, but I might queer the deal - best to just let it ride. But I'll have to take care of her friend - can't have Blumenfeld House be thought of as a cheapskate! This girl may well be the answer to my prayers, so this is not a time for penny-pinching.

Okay. So I started typing again.

"As for your traveling companion, it would be our pleasure to take care of her travel and other expenses as well. Just email me his or her name as soon as you can and we'll arrange everything."

There. She won't have a reason to turn me down anymore. And, just to sweeten the deal… "As our boss and patron prefers to do many of his shoots and other work over the weekend, it is very likely that he'll be here Sunday. If so, I can arrange for a short hi-and-hello with Edwin himself. Isn't that exciting?"

That should do the trick. What girl can turn down a face-to-face meeting with the legendary Edwin Blumenfeld himself?

Okay, time to wrap this up. "I look forward to hearing from you," I typed. "Do not hesitate to email or text anytime. My cellphone number is 651-555-1213. Thanks! - yours sincerely, Sarah."

Hmmm… I think I need to give the big boss a call…

- - - - -

***** (Danny) *****

After only ten minutes since I clicked "send," Danielle's tablet beeped. Seems this Sarah Michelle really wants to meet me.

"… hesitate to email or text anytime!" Danielle read aloud excitedly, "… yours sincerely, Sarah." She looked at me wide eyed. "So?" she said to me excitedly. "What do you think?"

I shrugged.

Danielle started to dance excitedly. "Twin Cities, here we come!" Nikki looked at her with a slight frown. "Ummm…" Danielle looked a bit abashed. Of course, I'd want to bring Nikki.

"But Nikki," Danielle explained, "I'm Robin's manager, so…"

Joanne cleared her throat. "Ahem!"

Nikki and Danielle looked at Joanne. "What!" Danielle said irritatedly.

"Ummm… Well, Danielle, presumably, this Ms Rhodes - she's seen all the posters, so she won't know you as Danielle, but as Dannie from the band."

"Well, then, I'll be Dannie."

Joanne shook her head. "Well, I suppose, then, you won't be there as Robin's manager, right? So it doesn't have to be you to go with Danny - it could as well be any one of us. And if you do any 'managing,' it will just alienate you and Robin from the lady."

Nikki nodded her head vigorously. "That's right!"

Joanne cleared her throat again. "But then, Nikki, it would be a little problematic if you were the one to go with 'Robin,' because you aren't really identified with her but more with Danny, the guy. If you go, then it might raise some questions."

"But that lady doesn't know me nor my connection to Danny!"

Joanne shrugged. "I suppose. But can we risk it?"

Nikki looked stubborn, and ready to argue the point, but Joanne had a suggestion.

"I know you guys want to go. Actually all of us want to go. Who doesn't want to see the Twin Cities?" She looked at me. "It's your choice, of course, Danny, but I think I have a suggestion that might actually keep the peace around here, and actually make some sense."

"Yeah?" I said. "What's your suggestion?"

"My suggestion is that you bring Sally Marshall with you instead. If she wants to go, that is. Ms Rhodes knows Sally, and she can be your bona fides. Plus she knows the ropes and everything - you can ask her for advice."

I thought that over while I looked at Nikki and Danielle. I also looked at the others. As usual, Joanne was absolutely right.

"I'm sorry girls," I said, and pulled out my phone. My cellphone had three SIM cards (it was Acer's last three-sim model) - one for my number, another for Dannie's and another for Robin's. "I should call her, then," I said, and dialed her number using my Robin number.

"Hey, girl," I said in my best Robin voice when Sally picked up. "I was wondering if we could meet up tonight? Nothing major. You can't? Oh, that's too bad. Can you talk now? Great. Anyway, how's your weekend? Free? Cool. Well, it's like this…"

And then I started to explain the situation.

Sally said she indeed knew Ms Rhodes. She also said her weekend was totally free and, surprisingly, she was open to helping me out, which was great. So I promised to contact her with the details as soon as Ms Rhodes contacted me again.

"Well, I guess it's a go," I told the others after I hung up.

I borrowed Danielle's tablet again and sent yet another email.

"Hello, Sarah," I typed. "Thanks for your email. I can be there this Sunday morning. My companion will be Sally Marshall, whom you know. If you need more information, please don't hesitate to email again, or you can text me on my cellphone." I typed my, or rather Robin's, number, and then signed off.

I then forwarded my email to Sally, as well as our previous emails and suggested it might also be good for her to send Sarah her contact details, just in case.

At that point, Danielle and I stopped talking about it and just hung around with the gang, chatting about regular stuff, or working on some homework.

It was a bit sad that June, Dale and Mongo weren't around - Mongo was probably at home or in their stationery shop while Dale and June were probably in their dorms or apartments. It was only at times like these that we realized that some of us were actually adults already, or as close to adulthood one can be yet still be kids.

But that was okay. When we were together, worry for the future in general, and worry for our future specifically, was no big deal. Whatever the future held for us, we all thought we've figured out what we wanted to do with our lives already - different, I'm sure, from most of the other kids in school - I wanted to get into music, just like Dale and June, and I know Morgan wanted to become a music producer or writer. Danielle wanted to be a people manager of some kind and Jerry wanted to be in computers. Nikki, the few times I talked with her about it, said she wanted to be in fashion, as did Drew and Mel, and Mike wanted to be a comedian, but, before breaking into that arena, he said he wanted to be a writer for TV. Fallon wanted to be a writer-novelist and, as for Tracey, she said that it has always been the plan for her to take over the family business, so she'd probably need to take a degree in Business or something.

For myself, I decided on going to Berklee in Boston, Massachusetts, or USC in California, or, if I really thought I could, maybe even NYU. Tuition wasn't a problem anymore, after all, so I could try any of them. My safety college was nearby Franklin - their music programs, though not well known, probably because very few of its graduates were high-visibility artists, were ranked as one of the best in the country, and only a few of those that apply get in. In fact, their acceptance rate of 35% was as low as Berklee's. I think it was a bit of arrogance on my part to even call it my "safety college."

As I sat on the couch with Nikki, and we were chatting and I was musing about these things, my phone beeped. I checked and I, or rather Robin, had a text from Sarah Michelle, saying that I should check my email. Since Danielle was busy working on her tablet, I switched on my phone's wifi and made do with the smaller screen.

"Hi, Robin (cc Sally)," Sarah wrote, "thanks for your email. I'm so pleased you and Sally will be coming! I've attached your and Sally's e-tickets to this email…" - I checked and we had a 6:30AM United flight to Minneapolis, and then a 9:30PM return flight - "… and have reserved a room for you at Le Meridien where you and Sally can drop off your stuff, rest or whatever, and then we'll have a late brunch at St. Genevieve and talk. We can then proceed to Blumenfeld House where you can see our operation and meet Edwin personally, and then have a short tour of the Minneapolis-Saint Paul area, though I have to say, there's not much to see - many of the nicer places may be closed on Sunday. Afterwards, we'll drop you off at your hotel, and in case you'd like to have an early dinner, I have you reserved at The Borough. From there, a limousine will bring you to the airport for your trip home.

"Anyway, see you girls on Sunday. Til then…"

I didn't know any of the places she mentioned but I guess I'll just google them later.

I texted Sally and told her to check out her email, and then thought a bit about the more practical things.

Oh, wait… Dammit…

- - - - -

***** (Tracey) *****

After I helped Mike with his homework, I came to the realization that he was a lot smarter than any of us credited him for. Sure, Morgan has always said he was very sharp, but Mike's, ummm, persona showed very little of this.

Anyway, all Mike needed was some help with his homework, mostly to help him focus, but other than that, he did all the work himself. In fact, he was actually helping out the others with their own stuff. Maybe Mike has ADD or something. In which case, he needs to be diagnosed. But I didn't know how to help.

I saw Danny and Morgan chatting in hushed tones and I went over to them.

"So what's happening," I asked.

Morgan shrugged. "Oh, nothing," he said. "Danny was just worried about his trip to Minnesota."

"Yeah?"

"I didn't think," Danny said. "I don't have any ID as Robin other than my company ID. I don't know if I can get on the plane without being checked out."

A little light bulb went off in my head. Ohmigod, Danny's right. Dannie-the-singer was fine to travel because he could use Danielle's papers if needed, but Robin was a fictitious person…

"Well, Danny," I said, "what if I could make up an ID for Robin?"

"I could actually arrange that myself, Trace," Danny said, "but a fake ID wouldn't be any good with Homeland Security. You know? Airport checks, et cetera?"

"I know, Danny," I said, "but I can get you an ID and stuff that's compliant with the Real ID Act and can stand up to an FBI check."

"Real ID Act?"

"The laws they put up after 9/11? It's to help with airport security checks and all that. Let's see…" I opened my phone and started checking for cities and states that were already compliant with the Real ID Act. Hmmm… Minnesota was one of them, so that means Minneapolis will be requiring compliant documentation. Right above it on the list I was looking at was Seattle.

"How would you like it if you're from Seattle, Washington?"

Danny shrugged. "I wouldn't mind it. But, Trace…"

"Danny, mom has all sorts of connections. I think she can help you get a Washington driver's license, and since Washington is Real ID-compliant, that's all you need. So, do you want one?"

Danny shrugged. "If it's not too much trouble, and if it's safe. I mean, what if the FBI checks don't…"

I thumped him on the shoulder. "Why don't you trust me?" I laughed.

"I do, I do!"

I nodded. "Okay, then." I stepped out of the room and out onto the grass-covered yard outside to call mom.

So, as I explained it to mom, apparently mom was way ahead of me. She'll have the driver's license ready in a couple of days.

Later on, I'd find out from mom what she did: Apparently, the income that we were paying "Robin Tibbles" had to be reported to the IRS somehow. It wasn't too big, but it was just big enough that it couldn't be hidden in the station's petty cash anymore. So mom's people had concocted the identity "Robin Tibbles" - a legal identity as far as the IRS was concerned. And if the IRS recognizes Robin as a real person, then all the other government agencies would, too.
Maker

Robin has had a Social Security number for a while now, plus a "null address" in Seattle, Washington (what a coincidence!) as her birthplace and home. A "null address," in the spy biz, is a valid address, but an address for a currently non-existent place, like an apartment building that was torn down a long time ago, for example, so if someone were to try and find the building, they wouldn't find it, even if it was a valid, though defunct, address.

Also, in order to reduce all of the legal complexities that hiring a minor would cause, mom had made sure Robin was eighteen, and to reduce any family entanglements, Robin was also an orphan, with both parents dead from the fire that destroyed their apartment years ago. Apparently, Robin Tibbles was a real person from Seattle that died in the same apartment building fire that killed her family.

All of this was courtesy of the Federal Witness Protection Program. Aside from making up completely fictitious identities, the FBI also sometimes gets the identity papers of real, but dead, people, like Robin Tibbles, and just expunged their death certificates from all government records, which therefore meant that they didn't die, records-wise.

This method was easier, and usually better, than making a totally new identity, because real identities come ready-made with their own histories. And the advantage of this was that such histories were impregnable - there were no holes or anachronisms to poke at since they were genuine, provided that the proper identity was selected.

Anyway, my mom gave one of her clandestine friends in the FBI her preferences for an identity she needed - first name, "Robin," age eighteen, brunette and preferably five-foot-one. The FBI's computers popped out "Robin Emanuellé Tibbles." Mom, through her connections, had, ummm, appropriated the Robin Tibbles papers for Danny, and, once selected, Mom's FBI friend took Robin Tibbles out of the FBI's list of available identities as well as all other traces in the federal program, with nary a trace or digital footprint. And since he was already eligible for retirement, mom's friend thought it was time to retire, and eventually went to Boca with a sizeable chunk of cash that he'd been "hoarding" for a while that will keep him comfortable for the rest of his days, and hide him and his... unauthorized activities from the Federal government.

There were several paper people like "Robin," which the FBI have ready, for use with the next whistleblower or organized crime boss-turned-witness. But, based on any record you can find, "Robin Tibbles" was never one of these. What she was was KRPQ's newest employee.

To add traceability to Robin's nonexistent history, mom had verified and expanded her old school records, given her a totally legit diploma, and also "enrolled" her in the nearby university of Franklin, but had her currently on long-term academic leave.

I would tell all of this to Danny later, and it wasn't a happy thing when I did because she suddenly discovered she was now a taxpaying citizen.

Anyway, for now, I told Danny that she'll get Robin's real driver's license by end-of-day tomorrow, post-dated to Robin's eighteenth birthday, which was several months ago, just days befpre she "became" a KRPQ employee.

Danny gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek in thanks, which had me blushing, and everyone else giggling.

And then I noticed her red hair…

"Ummm, Danny?" I said, and pointed to her hair. I mean his hair…

He saw where I was pointing and he looked at me. "Oh, damn," he said. Sure, he could wear the usual wig but it might be problematic, especially when they were going through security at the airport.

So, after yet another mini-meeting, Joanne said that she could take Danny after his Nighthawk show on Saturday morning and turn her into a brunette beauty again. I mean him! Goddammit!

Anyway, that meant that Dannie won't be able to participate in their usual Saturday practice session, but since it was just practice, it shouldn't be a big problem.

Too bad, though, since it would be their first time in their new practice venue - a rehearsal "studio" at the outskirts of town that Nikki had rented under her fake name. Since they were bringing their own equipment, the rental was only fifteen dollars per hour. And since their practice sessions usually last for three to four hours, it'll only cost sixty dollars. And since they had jacked up their fees with Mario's by five hundred dollars an hour, they could clearly afford it.

Of course, moving to a new place pissed Mongo off since it'd mean he has to schlepp his entire drum set back and forth. At least that was what he said the last time we were together. June gave him a hug and quipped, "welcome to my world, kid." Truth be told, I think Mongo felt bad because I think he liked being the host. But he didn't really complain aside from that one comment. Typical, stoic, dependable Mongo.

Anyway, if the new place was discovered by the fans again, we can just find another studio. Nikki said, apparently, there were a lot of these "basic studios," which were nothing but soundproofed structures, and weren't expensive to rent.

Going back to Danny, when she returns from Minnesota, Joanne will have to turn her back to a redhead before school on Monday. Maybe it would require yet another one of Danielle's sleepover thingies. That'll be fun, I'm sure. I wonder if all girls were so into makeup and hair and such. I suppose most are, but I'm real sure no not many did the things this bunch did.

Sleepover! I couldn't wait.

- - - - -

***** (Danny) *****

This Tuesday at Betsy's, Tracey handed me my, or rather Robin's, new driver's license as well as Robin's Social Security card. Tracey also said Robin's other papers will be given to me as soon as they became available.

I wasn't tracking what Tracey was saying because I was still a little sleepy. Unbeknownst to everyone except Tracey, I've been waking up early most days (when I had nothing going on) and practicing. Practicing what, you may ask?

Well, after the concert thing, I used a bunch of the money I earned and bought a bunch of electronic stuff. I asked Tracey's help, and with their family connections, she was able to help me get the stuff I wanted at heavily discounted prices, otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to afford them.

I got myself a Yamaha DTX450 Electronic Drum Kit, a Yamaha EZ-TP Digital Trumpet, a Yamaha YEV-104 Electric Violin, a Yamaha WX11 Digital Wind Instrument (with a finger pattern just like a flute, a clarinet or a saxophone), a Yamaha P115 88-Key Weighted Action Digital Piano and a Yamaha Reface CS portable synthesizer.

I only slightly knew to play their analog originals but, given I was starting to think seriously of a musical career for myself, I decided to be as proficient as I can with as many instruments as possible. Since I knew the guitar well enough, I thought I needed to be as proficient with other popular instruments, namely the piano, the drums, the violin, the flugelhorn & trumpet, and the sax.

But, because I didn't want to drive anyone in the house batshit with my practicing, I had to get electronic equivalents of all of them so I can do my playing with a convenient set of headphones.

And, since Tracey's mom's connections could give me wholesale prices if I got Yamaha stuff, then all of the instruments I got were all Yamahas. In fact, I got all six instruments for less than a thousand (plus another thousand for the other incidentals, like a good speaker system, a mixing board, a plugboard, lots and lots of wires, and so forth.

I had set up my new toys in the corner of my room (which happened to be the largest room in the house. Also the farthest from mom and dad's room). In truth, no one really noticed them - they just assumed it was just more electronic shit that my room was already cluttered with. The only ones that would probably have noticed would be the guys in the band, but since none of them have been to my room...

I wasn't really keeping it secret - if they asked, I would have told them, but since they haven't... Besides, I don't want them to find out about it until I was proficient enough with them that I didn't sound like a clueless wannabe.

Anyway, I'd wake up early in the mornings as often as I could, and studied & practiced for at least an hour, and, hopefully, in a couple of months, I won't sound like amateur hour.

But back to the present...

- - - - -

"What other papers?" I asked Tracey about the documents she was going to give me.

"Well," Tracey said, "basically, three things - your High School Diploma, your passport and your birth certificate."

"Oh?"

"The reason they're taking so long is because they have to make sure they're backstopped with the appropriate paper trail. And like the passport - they will be all new but they have to look look like they aren't."

"But still real?"

"Oh, yes - totally legit - issued by the government and everything. And you can use them for traveling abroad, applying for a loan or a job, and everything."

"Okay."

"And you know what this means now," she said. "It means…"

"Yeah, yeah, don't remind me."

"… you're gonna have to start filing income taxes starting next March." She chortled like a stereotypical madman.

"Ahhh, shut up!"

Tonight, we were in Joanne's mom's beauty salon, and I was sitting in one of the barber's chairs, which Joanne corrected me and told me it was actually called a "styling chair."

The place was full, as usual, but I had a reservation so I got a spot right away.

Off to the side, on the table by the cash register, the other girls were going through Joanne's mom's catalog of hair styles, but aside from a lot of "oooh's" and "ahhh's," I guess they weren't any close to deciding on my new cut.

Eventually, though, Nikki goes, "I like this one!" and then Mel goes, "Yeah!"

There were only four of the girls with us since the other girls were with the band. Danielle was with them since she was in her "Dannie" disguise. She might not be playing, but she needed to be there to keep up appearances just in case. And Betsy, Fallon and June had to be there, of course, and if June was there, then Drew was there, too, and therefore Morgan as well.

So it was just Joanne, Mel, Tracey and I. And since Mel was here, Jerry was here, too. As for Mike, I think it's because Tracey was here. I wasn't sure about that, but I had my fingers crossed. For both of them.

Anyway, Tracey and I went over.

"That girl looks a lot like Meg Ryan in one of her old movies, when she was still cute," Mike commented.

"Yeah?" Mel asked.

"One of the romcom ones."

"They're all romcoms."

"No, they're not. Trace? What do you think?"

Tracey bent down and checked the pic. "Yeah, she does, actually. Like from that old one, 'When Harry Met Sally.'"

"Yeah!" Mike and Tracey high-fived each other.

Joanne, Mel and I looked at each other grinning. Looks like I'm not the only one with fingers crossed.

Anyway, it looks like they've finally decided on my Robin 'do.

The first thing Joanne did was to wash my hair while I leaned back over that sink that you see in salons. After which, she towel-dried my hair and started applying that really bad-smelling hair coloring junk.

"I'm doing the application in streaks," Joanne said, "and allow it to leach into the other strands, so your red hair will come out from underneath, and they'll look like highlights. Plus, since it's not so solidly applied, it'll be easy to take out or cover up when you come back.

"And this wash is free of hydrogen peroxide, ammonia and PPD. That means it's not damaging. But it doesn't stain your clothes or anything, and it stays on until you wash it out by using this special shampoo." She held up a big unlabeled plastic bottle.

After a while, my hair wasn't stinky anymore, and Joanne rinsed it, and started styling and trimming it. She told me later that the style was called a shag. I didn't care what it's called except that it looked real good.

"Nikki?" I said. "Sweetie, maybe you can have your hair done this way, too?"

Nikki giggled and gave me a kiss.

Anyway, my hair was sorta messy but good-looking as well, especially with the red-orange-blonde "highlights" that peeked through. I started moving the messy curls around but it was okay even if I messed with it. I told Joanne that, if nothing else, I think my hair will impress Sarah. Hey, I wasn't just trying to suck up to Joanne so she won't charge me!

Anyway, Nikki was lending me her fancy leather "executive" backpack, and she and Danielle will be packing it with what they call the "essentials" later.

The gang met up later that night at a greasy spoon at the edge of town that was directly opposite the so-called studio, our bodyguards trailing us as usual. Mike heard of this place that had great food that no one really goes to, and we were gonna try it out. Turns out it was our best diner dinner ever. Heehee.

And if our fans track this place down, that's fine, because we just won't go there later. If ever we can't eat here again, it'll be too bad because their chicken fried steak, clam chowder and hotcakes were the best I've ever had. (Yeah, it's a weird combination but you wouldn't say so if you were here.)

Anyway, with the usual "tomfoolery and hijinks" (sorry, I had Mark Twain in my reading list) my 'do had passed muster with everyone, especially the guys. A fact which irritated the girls a lot, apparently. Anyway, Joanne was saying, when the color was washed out, my hair would retain the cut, allowing it to be easily styled into a guy's hairstyle just by using a comb, or styled into a sexy girl's 'do with a bit of hairspray, which'll help a lot when I need to switch personas again. She demoed this by combing her fingers through my newly colored, tastefully highlighted brunette hair.

At around ten, I asked if we could make an early night of it since I had to leave early for my trip. I paid for Nikki's and my bill, and everyone booed since I wasn't treating for anyone else.

The guys gave me that complicated handshake we did, which included Dale and Mongo now - the newest members of our gang - and after a guy-hug with Morgan, Danielle and I left in my Mustang with Nikki.

At home, we said hi to my folks, who didn't know about my trip to the Twin Cities the following day, and retreated to Danielle's room (I had hidden as much of my hair as I could with a baseball cap).

Danielle, Nikki and I got my carry-on backpack ready with the "essentials," and laid out my outfit and everything. Because of the 6:30 flight, the girls made me go to bed. It's best to get there at least thirty minutes ahead, but given how it was nowadays, Danielle suggested an hour. And since I had to pass by for Sally, that means I had to be on my way by at least four AM.

That meant I had to wake up super-early indeed.

Anyway, I'm sure the two will have fun in their impromptu sleepover.

I made my excuses, gave Danielle and Nikki a kiss, and went to bed .

Although it didn't feel like I got much sleep because, in what felt like five minutes, I was being shaken awake by Nikki.

I wasn't complaining. If ever you get woken up the way Nikki woke me up, you wouldn't be complaining either.

"Good morning, my love," Nikki said, and kissed me on the lips again. "Time to wake up."

I moaned in protest, still half asleep, and pulled her towards me. "Nooo… Half an hour more…"

I hugged her to me like a warm and wonderfully squishy giant teddy bear.

"Oh, Danny," Nikki whispered into my ear, "I'd like nothing more, but Danielle's in the other room and your folks are down the hall… and you have to get up to pick up Sally… and then fly to Minneapolis…"

"Nooo…"

Nikki giggled, pushed away and pulled away my blanket and pillows.

"Aaargh!" I complained and went into a fetal position, keeping my eyes tightly closed.

"Danielle, I need help," Nikki said, and I heard Danielle clomp into my room.

"There's only one way to get this guy up," Danielle said. "Kitchee-kitchee-koo!" And she started tickling my feet.

Five minutes later, I was grumpily finishing my shower (I didn't use shampoo, though), and five minutes after that, I was sitting in Danielle's chair in my underwear. I was in the de rigueur gaff with matching bra, and I sat patiently while Danielle gently blow-dried my hair and fussed with my makeup.

Usually, I'd worry about the girls getting… too excited when I was just in my underwear, but apparently Dr. Roberts was correct - after being around me so much, my friends seemed to be a bit more immune to my charms. Or maybe it was Dr. Roberts' "cologne" - I had put on some of it after my quickie shower. (I made sure I'd bring some in a little applicator for my trip.) Over the weeks since Doc gave me his formula, I've had to reformulate it several times because I noticed that its effectivity had been getting weaker. Lately, I've been testing me and the formula everyday, hence I bought a supply of red and blue litmus paper and kept them in my desk drawer. Since it was litmus paper, I could assume the… active ingredient had something to do with the acid levels of my, ummm, pheromones.

With regards liquids et cetera, Sally taught me to only bring little applicators of perfume and other makeup stuff on a plane because of air travel rules - only a maximum of three 100ml bottles of liquids like perfume and such are allowed. But since it was just essentials this time, small sampler bottles, a tiny travel case and little brushes and combs were more than enough, and Nikki was able to fit them into a one-quart baggie, which Sally said was what one does when going through airport security.

The girls selected a couple of "wrinkle-friendly" outfits that went with the high-heeled cowboy boots they had me wearing, and was able to fit everything in Nikki's little leather backpack.

Knowing I was going to Minnesota, Danielle made sure to pick a nice, warm, sophisticated black leather ladies motorcycle jacket, which went well with the designer burgundy thermal leggings they picked and the tight, stretchy, eggshell-colored long-sleeved turtleneck bodysuit she picked.

The three of us tiptoed out of the house and waited at the curb for my Uber ride - we didn't want to wake up my folks. But since it wasn't even five AM, and was therefore real cold, I decided to wear the jacket.

As soon as the car arrived, I hugged the girls and I went off to Sally's - I had specified the multiple stop function and entered Sally Marshall's address so the Uber would pass by Sally's first, and then we'd make the thirty-minute drive to the airport where Sarah had our flight booked.

A few minutes later, the car pulled up at Sally's. I texted her, and she promptly came out. She looked very cute and looked just like the fashion model that she was.

She got in and gave me a hug. I gave our Uber guy a nod and we were off for the airport.

Getting there, we went to security. I took a deep breath. Sally explained what to do, so I took off my jacket, belt, shoes watch and earrings, put them all in a basket and let the basket and my backpack go through the metal detector (no full-body scanning thingie this time because it was a domestic flight).

Sally also explained that I should take out the one-quart baggie out of my backpack and keep it separate.

Sally went through the detector without incident, but for me, after I went through, the TSA people insisted on running metal detector wands over me, as well as doing a very thorough pat-down.

"Watch it, dude," I said when one of them "accidentally" felt my breasts up multiple times. When I was starting to get fed up by the asshole's "thoroughness" and was starting to look around for his supervisor, he let me through.

I was fairly fuming when I went to the end of the conveyor to get my stuff.

"What's wrong, Robin," Sally asked.

I huffed while I put on my boots, jacket, earrings and watch back on, and threaded my narrow little belt through my leggings-slash-pants' belt loops.

"Well," I said in a fairly loud voice, "it's that guy." I pointed directly at the TSA person that did my inspection. Being an announcer on the radio, I knew just how to project my voice without seeming to raise it, making sure the people around me would hear.

"I don't know if he was being thorough," I said, "or if he was copping a feel."

"You don't think he was…" Sally said, playing along.

"Oh, no! Not at all!" I said in exaggerated casualness. "I'm sure he was just doing his job. Although I don't know why he thought something was wrong with my breasts as he was quite thorough about inspecting them. If I didn't know any better, I would have called him a creep or something, but since he was just doing his job, he probably was just being thorough."

The security person in question was blushing furiously and was refusing to meet my eyes, or the eyes of the other passengers. He, as well as his colleagues, obviously heard me.

I started walking towards another officer who was obviously his supervisor, and Sally followed. She had a quizzical expression, wondering what I was doing.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I said, again in my best DJ voice, "I was wondering if you can point us to the United check-in counter?"

"Ummm, yes, miss," she said. "You just walk down the gangway and look to your left. You'll see their counter, no problem. Ummm, miss, I couldn't help overhearing…"

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, absolutely," I said, in a very reasonable tone of voice despite my projecting it all over the security area. Many people were starting to whisper and point at me and at my TSA security person.

"You folks are quite thorough," I continued. "I'm sure you catch bad guys all the time, especially if their hiding bombs or things like that in their breasts and asses."

"Ummm, thank you, miss. And we saw you on CNN. You were great, by the way."

"Well, thank you," I smiled. "We have to go - we have a six-thirty flight." Sally and I walked away, and Sally giggled all the way to the counter. We looked back and saw the TSA guy being yelled at by his boss.

Getting to the counter, since we had nothing but our carry-on bags, we went directly to our check-in counter and handed over our IDs and printed e-tickets. I kept my fingers crossed when I handed over my new Robin driver's license and KRPQ ID. No problems, thank god.

We stayed in the "lounge," which looked suspiciously like a bus station waiting area, until our flight was called, and we took the opportunity to nap on our two-hour flight to Minneapolis.

When we landed, we were able to check out fairly quickly. We saw Kelly following us. Since Sally didn't really know about my bodyguards, Kelly and I tried not to show that we knew each other, so we just subtly nodded at each other instead. From then on, Kelly was always on our tail.

The two-hour nap was great, and we felt totally refreshed. Unfortunately, the plane landed early and we had thirty minutes to kill before Sarah came to pick us up. We decided to pass by one of the restaurants for a bite. I wanted Taco Bell but I decided on Sbarro - Sally didn't look like a Taco Bell kind of girl, but there weren't too many choices. Sbarro's it was.

After ordering, I carried my tray to an empty table by the corner. I had a spaghetti and meatballs, caesar salad and a very large glass of milk (I was surprised they had milk). Sally looked at me with a giggle and a smile. Sally just had a large orange juice.

"You're just like Dannie," she giggled. "Do all girls from your town always have the munchies?"

I froze at that. Has she discovered my secret? I tried to cover it up, so I harrumphed theatrically. "I don't know what you mean," I said as I lifted a forkful into my mouth. Sally giggled.

"Besides," I said, "I'm originally from Seattle so I'm not really a native." I never knew my fake identity's history could help with my disguise.

I noticed that we seemed to be attracting some attention. It was fairly early so most of the commuters and passengers were more of the… humdrum kind of crowd - apparently, the well-heeled, the movers & shakers and the fashionistas preferred later flights. That made us stand out a little more than usual given our looks and outfits.

Even so, we tried to enjoy our little snack and talked about our expectations for the day. I had to thank Sally for agreeing to help even though she didn't have to.

She said she was very happy to help, although she admitted it wasn't totally altruistic since she hoped it might help her land a modeling assignment for herself out of this as well.

I agreed, but then she asked what I wanted out of this.

I paused at that. What was it that I wanted out of this, I thought?

I told her that the truth was I really didn't know.

"Then why did you agree to this trip," Sally asked.

I shrugged. "I guess it's because Tracey asked me to," I said.

"Not a good enough reason, I think."

She was right. So I had to think it through.

"I guess it's just I don't know what I really want, I think. I haven't really thought of these things in like a career. Not doing so could be a mistake, I guess. So I guess I'm trying to keep my options open."

"Well, have you thought of what you'd want to do later?"

I was about to say "something in music," but that was my Dannie side. What about my Robin side?

And then I had to pause. It was worrisome that I was thinking of Robin and Dannie as separate people. And as I thought of it, I realized that, deep inside, I did think of them as separate people. And, what's more, I thought of Danny as a separate person, as well.

And then I had to think a little bit more. So, I asked myself, if I did think of these as actual separate people, then who among these is me?

"Robin?" sally said, "You okay?"

"Oh!" I said, breaking me out of my worries. I thought of her question again, and tried to think of the obvious, safe answer.

"I guess what I want is to be in media," I said, thinking of what I hoped Robin would eventually be. "Like maybe a reporter in a newspaper, or maybe a TV news reporter or announcer." I shrugged. "I'd like to get to a point where I can eventually influence public opinion."

Sally looked at me. "Wow," she said. "I thought you didn't know what you wanted."

I giggled and shrugged deprecatingly.

"Then what are you doing fooling around with modeling?" she asked.

"I'm just checking out what's possible," I winked. I know I was acting all confident, but her questions had shaken me. I think I need to have a long session with Dr. Jessup sometime soon.

"Well," Sally continued, "there are lots of TV newspeople who started out as models, so I guess that's a good career path."

As we were chatting, there was one girl that was about my age that kept on unabashedly staring at us. She was pretty well dressed and stood out from the crowd. Sally didn't notice her but I did, and I was starting to get a bit creeped out.

And then my cellphone rang. I checked it and it seemed I had a call on my Robin number in my three-SIM phone.

"Hello, this is Robin Tibbles," I said casually, and Sarah Michelle answered, as I expected.

"Hello, Robin!" the lady said. "This is Sarah. How was you trip?"

"Hello, Sarah. It was pretty smooth. We got a nap on the plane so we're doing okay. But the flight landed a little early. We've been snacking here while we waited."

Oh! I'm sorry! Tell you what, I'm just few minutes away. Can you and Sally meet me at the main gate? That way, I won't need to park and everything, and we can be on our way quickly."

"Sounds good, Ms Rhodes."

Great. I'll be in the teal Mercedes."

"Teal?" I wondered. These fashionistas - they all want to be different. "Okay, Ms Rhodes. We'll be in front of the main gate in about fifteen minutes. Seeya then!"

"Oh, call me Sarah, Robin. See you in a bit!" And she hung up.

Sally looked at me.

"That was Ms Rhodes," I said. "We need to go. She asked if it's okay to meet her in front so she won't need to park."

Sally nodded and finished off her juice. I grabbed a last bite and we got up.

The girl that was staring at us stood up as well and walked to us.

"Excuse me," she said, as we walked out of the restaurant and to the front of the airport terminal. She started walking with us.

Apparently, Sally was used to this. "Yes?" she answered but didn't stop walking. But she didn't speed up either. I followed her lead.

"Don't I know you guys from somewhere?" she asked as she walked with us down the escalator.

I shrugged. "I don't know," I said politely. "Maybe you're thinking of someone else?"

"I don't think so…" and then when we stepped off the escalator, she snapped her fingers.

"Now I remember!" she said excitedly. "You guys are from that ad in this month's Prêt-à-Porter magazine!"

We smiled politely. "Ummm, I guess," I said.

She dug into her bag and brought out an actual copy of the magazine. She rifled through its pages until she found our poster.

"Can I ask for your autographs?" she asked.

We were already standing at the curb, so we couldn't not sign her magazine. There were several of our other ads, too, and she had us sign those as well, as well as the front cover.

People noticed us signing a magazine, and some of the younger girls started jumping up and down because they recognized us. Some of the women pulled out copies of their own - which wasn't too surprising: Prêt-à-Porter was up there with Elle, Cosmopolitan and Vogue after all - so we had a few more to sign.

"So," someone said, "your fans have found you, huh?"

We found this blond-ish woman at the wheel of a teal-colored Mercedes Benz S-Class sedan.

"Ms. Rhodes?"

"Indeed it is." She got out of her car and waited patiently until we finished signing and the crowd thinned out.

"I can't believe that your fans have followed you all the way here to Minneapolis!" she said. "Hi! I'm Sarah." She gave me a big hug. She then turned to Sally. "Sally! I'm so glad to see you again!" And she also gave her a hug. "But let's not keep on standing here. Come on to the car, and we can have a bit of brunch!"

- - - - -

***** (Sarah Michelle) *****

I can't believe that Robin had fans already. My goodness! I think I might have hit the motherlode! And just seeing her personally now - she has this inherent look and aura that reminds me about all the legendary models that you read about. And she's drop-dead gorgeous, as well. And her ensemble… I think I'm going to steal that for our line. Understated, but uber-fashionista and super-super sexy. Who'd have thought to partner maroon leggings like that!

Also this Sally girl as well. Mindy told me who she was but I truly didn't remember her, and I had to talk to my people to find out who she was. Turns out she did a few national campaigns with us as one of the "background girls." Truly forgettable, but that didn't stop me from mentioning her in my email.

But since she's with Robin, and that she seems to have her own fans now, I better be nicey-nicey today. And besides she was very pretty. Not as pretty as Robin, but I think we can do something with her.

Anyway, I started chatting with the girls - Robin sitting in the passenger seat beside me, and Sally in the back seat.

I noticed that these girls only brought small bags. Amazing. Most of my models wouldn't be caught traveling without at least an overnighter. I think I like these girls.

I got them chatting, and Robin seemed to be a very self-possesed young lady. I found her answers very clear and concise when needed, and she asked me things that seemed very incisive. Many times, I felt I was the one being interviewed, but I found that I didn't mind. There was just something about her, and I was willing to spend the day to find out what it was.

I realized it then, at that moment - I found that I had already made up my mind, that she was the girl for me, and I was going to do everything I could to convince her to be my line's new spokesmodel. I already had the beginnings of a campaign concept bubbling up in my mind.

We went to my favorite place, St. Genevieve, and Marco, the day-shift maitre d', brought me to my favorite table by the large window facing the street.

I asked if I could order for them, and I gave Marco an order for my favorite brunch combination, times three. I made it a little more substantial since I doubt if we'd have time to break for lunch later since I was pretty sure the boss will want to spend time with them.

We took our time chatting. With Sally, I found out that despite her very elegant and sophisticated look and demeanor, she was very much a small-town girl, and only by chance did she get the opportunity to model for us, and from there stemmed her modeling credentials. She'd also done some print modeling and a TV commercial for some brand I wasn't familiar with much. I had to say, this girl's done well for herself compared to others of her age and background.

As for Robin, she was very matter-of-fact as she went over her personal story. She said she was a single child from a fairly poor family, and was home-schooled by her mother, more as a way of economizing than anything. The family died in a fire that burned down their entire apartment building several years ago. And since she was fifteen at the time, she decided to knock around the state instead of living with a foster family. Social Services didn't really try very hard to find her since she was almost an adult, and was keeping her nose clean, surviving by doing odd jobs around the city. Somewhere along the way, she got her high school equivalency certificate, and it opened up some more work opportunities.

Wanting a change, she just had enough money to travel across the country, again surviving by doing this and that, and, by chance, stumbled onto the job at KRPQ on the other side of the country. And from there, she became one of the mainstays of the radio station. In fact, her being part of the ads and posters I saw were actually because of this connection to KRPQ.

Sally and I looked at each other. Robin's story sounded amazingly tortuous for such a young lady, and the fact she didn't dwell on any details and showed very little emotion just made me feel for the brave girl. I looked at Sally, and her eyes were brimming but she wasn't trying to wipe her eyes otherwise Robin might notice.

I, myself, wasn't too clear-eyed, and I covered wiping my eyes by feigning wiping my mouth with my napkin.

As for Robin, she had a far-away look, like she was trying to recall a story she had memorized. I suppose it pays to distance yourself from such painful memories. I couldn't believe how brave this girl, no, this young woman, was.

I guess now I didn't just want her as my spokesmodel, but I wanted to help her in some way. Maybe this job will help give her the kind of normalcy that she deserves.

To change the topic, I decided to talk about myself

My work was important to me. It wasn't unusual in my industry, I suppose, but I told them I'd been married once, but it didn't take. Thank god I never had any children.

Robin asked why I didn't want children, and I said I actually wanted them - I was just waiting for the right time. I suppose, if I got too old, I would adopt, but, really, my models were like my surrogate children.

I paused.

I never even knew that about myself. I don't know - I suppose it took someone like Robin to ask me the question directly, or maybe it was just being around Robin, that it brought things out.

I shook my head a little and changed the subject. I talked about Blumenfeld House and what we were about. I dug out a copy of the final draft of the still-unpublished Summer Catalog and showed it to them. It still had the layout marks but I'm sure they don't detract anything from the print draft.

Sally, being a professional, knew what that meant - how big a deal it was to see a catalog before it was published, but Robin didn't.

So I talked to Robin about it, and explained.

"Yeah?" Robin went. "Cool!"

Sally leafed through the magazine and then she suddenly went, "oooh!"

"What?" Robin asked and looked. "Hey! It's us!"

I leaned forward and saw the page they were looking at. "Oh, yes, we're partners with Prêt-à-Porter. We advertise with them regularly. Look at this." I took the catalog and showed them a couple more of the Prêt-à-Porter ads. We even had one ad apiece from Alley-Oop, Rockrgrrl and Dyno Cars, all of the ads featuring them and their friends. I explained that almost all of the sports fashions of Alley-Oop were actually relabeled fashions from our YA line, while we've used Rockrgrrl instruments as props for some of our photoshoots, and our company is one of Dyno Cars' clients.

They high-fived each other, and asked when would the catalog come out. I said I'll send some copies of the final version to their station. Sally promised to text me our addresses.

"I'm surprised you picked me out of all of the people in our posters," Robin said. Her voice was so sexy, I'm not surprised she's one of her station's best announcers. "Why didn't you pick any of the others?"

"You're too modest, Robin," I said, which she was. "You're the one that leapt out at me. You have a quality that's rare among women. If you agree to become one of my models, I'm sure it will be the start of a very successful modeling career."

I looked at her and saw her expression.

"Do you want to be a model?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I don't really know," she said. "To be frank, Ms Rhodes, I guess I'm just exploring my options at the moment."

"Oh… well, how about you let me show you around our little operation, and let you see how we do things? It might give you some ideas what modeling can mean for you."

Robin nodded. "I'm game. Sally?"

"Sure!"

"Well, that's good to hear." I was about to stand up.

She sighed. "It's just that… well, I guess I was just wondering why you didn't pick any of the others as well?"

"Hmmm. Did you have anyone specific in mind?"

"Well, Sally for one…"

Predictable. Perhaps Sally was Robin's close friend… Could this be a case of the two of them or nothing? Best to hedge my bets. "Well, that goes without saying - Sally is family. Of course Sally. As for the others, well… let me see." I took the magazine and studied the ad. "Please don't get me wrong, Robin, but… although your friends are all quite attractive… I guess there's a certain look or, I don't know how to say it, a range of measurements, of ratios and body types that modeling requires."

"How about her," Robin pointed to a strawberry-blonde girl that was beside her in the picture. I was told she was Dannie Fairchild, the lead singer of a local band. The girl was remarkably pretty, and had about the same height, size and body type as Robin. But…

I looked to Robin. "Sorry, my dear," I said, "but I just don't feel it. I don't feel her."

Robin had a stubborn, frustrated look. I looked at the other ads that had this Dannie girl again, but I just thought this girl wasn't anything special. At least not like Robin. "Perhaps if I had other pictures to compare…"

And it was like a light bulb went off above Sally's head. "Wait!" she said. "I think I might have some more pictures."

Sally reached for her smartphone and started swiping through the pictures. "Here." She handed it to me and I paged through the pictures.

"Hmmm…" I said as I looked at this Dannie. She seemed a lot different in these particular pictures. She sort of reminded me of Robin. I compared the magazine pictures with the ones in the phone… I couldn't figure it out, but there was a difference. Could it be the lighting? Or the print? Maybe Sally's phone had a special filter? Or maybe because these were candid shots? Sometimes when the model was caught in an unstaged, candid shot, she looked so much better. But…

In one of the pictures, Dannie was singing in a super-sexy red dress, and then in another picture, a lacey kind of bustier. Wow.

I happened to swipe to a picture of Robin in a jacket and leggings as she talked to the camera, but with a different 'do. She was in front of a shelf full of electronic stuff. She still looked incredible. Both girls were incredible. At least on the phone. I paged to another picture of Dannie.

"This girl looks better here, for some reason," I said. I thought some more. If I can get her, and coax this whatever-it-is out of this girl, then I'm sure my fashion line is saved. Hell I can imagine pushing my line to the top of the pile with these two!

"Well…" I said, deciding on taking the risk. "If you can give me her contact details, I'll contact her and see if she's willing to meet, so I can see her in person? And if you can send me those pictures, too?"

Sally nodded. "Right away, Ms Rhodes." Sally took back her phone and sent me an email with the pictures attached.

"Okay," I said, "I think we should go now." I signaled Marco and he rushed over.

"So, ladies," he said, "I hope you enjoyed your brunch?"

"Very much so, Marco," I replied. "It was wonderful, as usual. Our complements to your crew."

"Thank you very much, Ms Rhodes."

"Can we grab some of your wonderful breakfast smoothies to go? With some manuka honey, please."

He nodded. "Right away." He nodded and walked back to the front.

I put three hundred dollars under the salt and pepper shakers as our tip, and we got up to leave. When we passed by Marco's podium, he handed me half a dozen of my favorite smoothies, and I subtly passed a hundred dollars to him.

"It was a pleasure to have you with us this morning, miss," he said.

"Thank you, Marco," I said. "See you soon."

Their valet brought my car and we were able to leave for the office with Robin and Sally holding on to my smoothies.

Minneapolis city traffic is always pretty bad, but it wasn't too bad today, probably because it was Sunday.

In the rearview mirror, I saw that Honda Accord again.

"Ummm, girls?" I asked, "would you know anything about that Honda that's been following us? It's been there since the airport."

Robin looked a little guilty. "Ummm, that's actually my bodyguard."

"What! You have a bodyguard?"

Robin shrugged a little embarrassedly. "I'm afraid Mrs. Piper insisted. Mrs. Piper is…"

"Piper? As in Melody Piper of PiperCorp?"

"Yes. She owns the radio station I work for."

"I know Melody Piper," I said. "How come Melody wanted a bodyguard with you?"

"I guess because of overzealous fans. We've had a couple of incidents, and the boss didn't want to take chances. Especially after that CNN piece."

I nodded. CNN? ... Well, I knew all about that need - better to protect your talent rather than risk her getting hurt, or quitting. I've had a few of those. That was nothing too unusual in the fashion industry. I've even had to get bodyguards for a few divas even though it was totally unnecessary. But that was just part of the job.

I didn't realize how important this girl was to Melody Piper. It just reinforced my impression of this unassuming young lady. So young to have gone through what she has, yet she's come out so positive and so self-possessed.

"Do you have your own bodyguard, too, Sally?" I asked.

"Me?" Sally pointed to herself. "Oh, no!" She giggled. "I'm just a regular deejay."

I nodded and smiled, pshawing Sally's deprecating comments.

After another block, I still saw the Honda. This guy's pretty expert. "Ummm, why is your bodyguard staying so far away?" I asked Robin. "I can't imagine he'd be too useful that far away."

"She's been instructed to maintain 'executive surveillance,'" Robin explained. "A minimum of twenty feet distance."

"But why?"

"Mrs. Piper wanted to maximize privacy and such. I don't have any violent fans so that's more than fine. Actually, I didn't want any bodyguards, so this was Mrs. Piper's compromise. But it's okay - Kelly and her crew are a great bunch."

"Crew?"

"It's twenty-four hour surveillance. So three of them take shifts. Except today though, since today's different - today, it's just Kelly."

"I see." Twenty-four hour surveillance. That meant something. That made me think again.

I was soon pulling into our building and I parked in my usual parking space in the basement.

As we rode the elevator up the building, I explained. "We have the top five floors of the building, and we even have full access to the roofdeck. That's where we often shoot what we call our 'sky' and 'wind' and 'night sky' shots."

I ushered them in to the main office. "Welcome to the home of Blumenfeld House!" We passed the currently-empty waiting area-slash-lounge and walked through the office. There were no people, though, since it was a Sunday, but we were actually going to the end - to the boss's office.

I knocked on the glass door. "Knock knock!" I said. "Open up! I come bearing gifts!"

"Dammit, Sarah, I'm busy!" Edwin Blumenfeld, our boss and the son of the founder, bellowed.

I laughed. "Edwin seems to be in a good mood."

"Good mood?" Robin asked, worried.

I smiled. "You'll see."

I opened his door and was greeted with the usual mess. At his desk was Edwin working on something. He had his head down, scribbling furiously on the edges of some sketch I haven't seen before.

"So," I said, "who wants a smoothie?"

- - - - -

***** (Danny) *****

"So," Sarah said, "who wants a smoothie?"

"Smoothie?" the man at the desk asked, looking up. "From Saint G's? Give it here!"

Sarah got a couple of the smoothies I was holding and handed them over.

The man got one, stuck an extra-large re-useable stainless steel straw in, and took a big sip.

"Ahhh!" he exclaimed. "That hit the spot!"

"Skipped breakfast again, huh?" Sarah giggled. "Girls, this, by the way," Sarah gestured, "is the great man himself, Edwin Blumenfeld."

"Who are these girls, Sarah?" he asked, a little grumpily.

"This is the young lady I was telling you about, Ed - Ms Robin Tibbles."

"The girl from the Prêt-à-Porter ads? Of course! How can I not recognize you." He stood up and shook my hand. "It is indeed a pleasure, my dear. I saw you on CNN. You were amazing! Oh, and welcome to our place."

"And this," Sarah gestured to Sally, "is someone you might recall from our beach and street fashion shoots from last year's summer catalog - Sally Marshall."

"Ms Marshall," he said, "hello."

"Pleased to meet you again, Mr. Blumenfeld," Sally said, and shook his hand.

"Well. Sit, sit! Let's chat a while."

He wrapped up what he was doing and made an effort to get to know us, and he seemed a perfectly friendly gentleman. You wouldn't have imagined a fashion icon to be so… rumpled-looking, but it added to his charm.

He explained the business, and all the things that they do - the designs and sketches, the shoots, the fashion shows, the retailing, the ads, and the endless schmoozing. We laughed at his deprecating tone.

He said that the two floors above us was where the magic happened, where their fashions were designed and prototyped, and then were sent off to their production facilities in Arizona and Arkansas. He explained that they used to have facilities in Mexico and China, but they've had to pull them out because of worries with the current administration.

"Just as well," he said, "because we seem to have been getting a lot of knockoffs of our designs coming out of China, and I think it's because of our designs being leaked to the competition."

I asked what kinds of fashions his company specialized in, and he explained his line was one of the older ones (he, in fact, inherited the business from his father), and had been able to maintain brand loyalty throughout the years. "So," he said, "now we cater to a more sophisticated, older clientele." He pulled out one of the binders from the shelf behind him.

The binder was full of eight-by-ten glossies of extremely classy high-fashion clothes worn by totally gorgeous women. But he was right - it was all for an older type of woman, like from their early thirties to their sixties.

"Ohmigod, Robin" Sally said, "these are all so gorgeous!" I nodded, agreeing. As unsophisticated as I was with fashions, I couldn't help but see how beautiful these women were, and a big factor to their beauty were their clothes.

"But that's why you, Robin," Sarah, said, "and you, Sally," she added hastily, "are here."

Sally and I didn't understand.

"Sarah's right," Mr. Blumenfeld said. "We have several lines, and one of them is our young adult fashion line, geared to appeal to girls from fourteen to their early-twenties." He pulled down another binder and handed it too us.

This time, it was full of pictures of girls more-or-less our age wearing regular clothes, if regular clothes were high-fashion clothes, that is. Even if the girls were just wearing sneakers, jeans, sweaters, shorts, one-piece swimsuits and t-shirts, the high-fashion quality was unmistakable. Sally mumbled something like she wanted some of the stuff for herself. I nodded, imagining Nikki wearing some of that stuff as well.

"These are pretty great," Sally said, handing the binder back.

"I know, right?" Mr. Blumenfeld said. "But, you know, even though we know our stuff is great, the kids just aren't buying. That's why I need you, Robin." And then, like Sarah, he followed up, belatedly, "… and you, Sally!"

I looked at Sally, but she didn't seem to be bothered by that.

"What do you mean, Mr. Blumenfeld," I asked.

"We need you girls," he said. "If we can get you girls to be one of our signature models, maybe we can bring some attention to the line." He then talked about their plans for us - photo shoots, custom fittings, runway events, tours and a lot of other things. Talk about a hard sell! But I guess he saw my expression when I was starting to get overwhelmed.

He signaled to a girl that had come into the office.

"Yes, boss?" the girl said, peeking into the room.

"Girls, this is Mindy," he said, "our executive assistant. She's gonna tour you through the office, including the design floors and the roofdeck."

"Ummm, everything, boss?"

"Yes," he said, "everything," he repeated with emphasis. "These two girls will be part of the campaign for our young adult line."

"Oh? Cool! We definitely need help there."

"Girls, you go with Mindy. Go anywhere you want, ask any questions, but I'm going to ask you not to take pictures. Okay?"

Sally and I nodded.

"I can't join you - I need to speak with Sarah. Some boring office stuff. Hope you don't mind. After you're done, you come back here and maybe we can have some lunch or something, okay?"

"Oh!" Sarah said, "please call your bodyguard and ask her to come up. I'm sure she'd be more comfortable here in the office than sitting in her car. And tell her she can park inside. I'll arrange things."

We nodded and went with Mindy. I called Kelly and told her she could park inside the building and come up and wait inside the office.

And with that, we went with Mindy and explored the bowels of Blumenfeld House.

I wasn't expecting it but, truth be told, we had a lot of fun. We got to see how a fashion house worked, saw some girls having their pictures taken in a little corner with a green-screen against the wall, and saw a few dresses being "prototyped" on some benches on the other end.

We saw some of Blumenfeld's artists (Mindy said all their designers were "artists," and were referred to as such) designing new clothes and such based on sketches and ideas from Mr. Blumenfeld. Some even came over and chatted with us. Sally was practically jumping up and down since she recognized several of the names of the people we met - famous designers, apparently.

We even got to look through racks and racks and racks of ready-to-wear prototypes. Sally even asked if she could try some, and Mindy agreed. For me, I was more interested in some of their athletic stuff, like their sneakers and jackets and shorts.

While we were there, a bunch of guys came in to box up the prototypes and bring them out. They were accompanied by uniformed and heavily armed security guards, however.

"Security?" I asked Mindy.

"Yes," she said. "Industrial espionage, you know. That's our new summer line. They're bringing them to our production facilities for full production. We wouldn't want the competition to get their hands on them."

We also went to the next floor up, and it was their studio. There were props galore and there was even a photoshoot going on, with dozens of prop and lighting men, production people and photographers acting all diva-like and self-important as they took pictures of girls as they posed and primped.

What was the best, however, was the roofdeck. It was outfitted like a kind of open-air studio like the one downstairs but this was against open sky and wind. All of the air-conditioning equipment, ducts and vents were conveniently kept on the other side of the roof away from the studio part, and there was a third, cordoned-off part that had some deck chairs, a large beach umbrella and a large wrought-iron table with a glass top. Maybe it was a place where Mr. Blumenfeld and his people hung out and relaxed.

I went to the edge of the roofdeck, which was protected by a chest-high railing, and looked across the horizon. Minneapolis looked pretty in the bright sunshine, and I breathed in the fresh air. I'm sure the air wasn't that fresh during the week, but today, the Sunday sunshine was warm and glorious, and the wind was brisk and fresh.

"Gorgeous, huh?" Sally said as she leaned over the railing beside me.

"Sally?" I asked.

"Yeah, honey?"

"What do you think?" I gestured all around me. "I mean, this is all a bit too much. I'm a little scared and overwhelmed."

She hugged me around the shoulder. "No need to be. I'll be here for you. And even if they don't hire me, I'll still be here."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you catch it? It was obvious. They want you, not me."

"That's not true!"

Sally giggled. "Thanks for saying so," she said, "but we both know, don't we?" She gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Don't you worry about me. I know I'm a great looking girl, but I'm not as great looking as you. And I guess I'm okay with that. And, like I said, even if I don't get to be one of their models, I can still be with you if you want. Even if just for company."

I hugged her hard. "Thank you, Sally."

Someone cleared her throat. We forgot about Mindy!

"Sorry, Mindy," I said. "Where to next?"

"That's mostly it, actually. If you want to come with me back down to Edwin's office?"

"Would you mind if we stayed out here for a few minutes?" I asked. "It's such a wonderful day, we'd like to hang out here for a while."

She nodded. "Perfectly all right." She pointed to the elevator where we came out of. "Just come down when you feel like it."

I nodded. "Thanks, Mindy."

- - - - -

***** (Edwin) *****

I sighed as I watched the girls go upstairs with Mindy.

"You're right again, Sarah," I said, and sighed again.

"Of course, I'm right," she giggled. "So we'll get her?"

"But she's so short, Sarah!"

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter," she said. "She's gonna do the Young Adult line, anyway, so…"

"Dammit, Sarah! Even Devon Aoki is five-foot five, and she's one of the shortest in the business!"

She shrugged again. As usual, Sarah was being very frustrating. But, as usual, she had a point.

"I guess we can do some tricks to manage her shoots and video stuff," she said, "and I'm sure we can do something so we can also use her for fashion shows and similar stuff, too."

I wondered what these "tricks" could be.

Sarah kept on looking at me. "What are you saying, Sarah?" I asked.

She didn't answer and kept looking at me. I tried to figure out what she was saying, and thought furiously.

"You're saying, not to put other girls with her when she's on the ramp."

Sarah grinned and nodded.

"You're saying," I said, "in shows, she shouldn't be walking with other models." Sarah wiggled her eyebrows in agreement. "But if we're doing all that, bending over backwards to accommodate her, some might think she was our prime model… but …" I kept looking at her.

"… she doesn't have to be the face of Blumenfeld House," she said. "But maybe she can be the face of our YA line."

I thought that through. "But do we even want to do that? I mean, do I want to trust her with my house's reputation? What if she just messes up our company's reputation by getting caught with drugs or getting arrested or something?"

She waggled her eyebrows again. "But you don't think she will…" I said.

"You're getting it," she smiled. "I knew you were a smart guy."

"Screw you, Rhodes!" I laughed, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

"Seriously, though…"

"Ed, I had a chat with the girl, and I think she's one of a kind. She's not some flighty or self-absorbed Kardashian wannabe. And she has that magic X factor that we desperately need."

I nodded, trusting her instincts on this. We were in synch. But I saw her expression. "Wait, what is it?"

"Look at this," she said, and displayed half a dozen pictures on her phone - five of them pictures of a strawberry-blonde girl. She was singing on stage, and looked incredible. For some reason, I thought of Robin. One of the other pictures was of Robin holding a mike, speaking like she was a host in some TV show, and I slid back and forth between the pictures of the two girls. The two had that same intangible… quality. I couldn't believe it - Sarah found two of them.

"Where'd you find this one!"

She held up a finger, rummaged through my desk and found a copy of the draft of the upcoming catalog. She went through the looseleaf pages and picked out the page with one of the Prêt-à-Porter ads.

"Huh? I didn't mean Robin - I mean this strawberry-blonde one."

Still, she pointed to the ad. I looked, and she was pointing to one of the redheads.

I did a double-take. It looked like the same girl, but yet not. "Nahhh!" I said. "That can't be the same girl!"

"But it is! Robin and Sally confirmed it."

"But what happened! She's so different in the ad. This is so weird."

Sarah shrugged. "I know. But if you're willing, I'm thinking of checking out this redhead, and if she passes muster, I'm gonna want this girl as well."

I trusted Sarah implicitly. "If you say so, my dear." And we started strategizing, changing our plans over and over, and thinking of what we could do if we had two Robins instead of just one. Hopefully, this other one, this Dannie, wasn't too short, but looking at the pictures as she stood beside other people, I wasn't too hopeful.

Someone knocked on my door. It was Mindy, back from touring the girls.

"Yes, Mindy?" I asked. "Where are the girls? Everything okay?"

"They wanted to hang out on the roofdeck for a while, boss. They're enjoying the sunshine. They said they'll be coming down in a few minutes. But, boss…"

"Yes, Mindy?"

"You have a problem." And she told us what she overheard on the roofdeck.

"Well," I said. "That's concerning…"

"Not really," Sarah said. "It just means we need to hire Sally as well."

I probably looked a little stubborn since Sarah gave me a razzberry.

"Oh, unclench already!" she said. "If we need to get Sally just to get Robin, then we get Sally. It's a small price to pay, Ed. Admit it."

I growled. I hate hiring models that I didn't really need. "Oh, all right," I mumbled.

"Shhh!" Sarah said. "Cool it guys! Here come the girls."

Robin knocked on the doorjamb. "Hi," she said. "Hope we weren't interrupting anything?"

"Hello, my dears!" I said. "Not at all. Did you enjoy the little tour?"

"It was great, actually, Mr. Blumenfeld. We had fun."

"Good, good," I said. "But I guess we need to talk turkey. Mindy? Can you excuse us for a bit?"

"No problem, Boss," she said. "I'll get out of your hair, and get on that thing Sarah wanted me to take care of."

"Thanks, Mindy," Sarah said, and Mindy left my office.

"So," I said to the girls, "hopefully the two of you have gotten close to a decision?"

"Ummm…." Sally hummed. "What decision?" She smiled at me impishly.

I waved a finger at her. "You bad girl, Sally," I said, smiling delightedly. "You are a devious, devious child." I like this girl.

She and Robin looked at each other. "Well," Sally said, "if your're offering Robin a job as one of your models…"

I shook my head and tsk-tsk'd. "No, my dear. We are offering the both of you modeling jobs."

"Yeah?"

Robin gave Sally a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "See?" Robin said to her. "I told you." Sally had a big grin on her face.

Robin nodded at me. "We're saying yes, Mr. Blumenfeld," Robin smiled. "Provided we can come to an agreement about the details, then we're saying yes."

I clapped happily. "Excellent!" And Sarah gave the girls happy hugs. Of course, in my head, the word Robin mentioned - the "details" - was ringing in my head like a bell. I wondered what these girls would be asking, but I guess Sarah and I need to meet later to talk about what we should offer them. Off the top of my mind, I had the idea of offering a standard "beginner's contract," and we can just haggle over the details later.

But that has to be for later. Neither Sarah nor I wanted to spoil all of these good, gooshie feelings, as my little niece would have said.

Sarah and I talked about what we thought we should be doing, and smiled at how excited the two got.

In the end, we had sent them off a little early, like three PM or so - early enough to allow the girls time to do a quick tour of the city, and then maybe dinner (I'm sure Sarah had them reserved somewhere) - more than enough time for their nine-thirty flight back.

Robin did have a suggestion, though - she left us for a bit and talked to the girl outside, her bodyguard - and then came back.

"What if we went with Kelly and her driver?" Robin said. "Kelly said her driver is a professional driver and tour guide, and knows the city. We wouldn't want to impose further..."

"It's no imposition, Robin," I said, "but if you really feel so…"

Robin nodded.

"Okay, then. Be sure to text Sarah the contact details of your driver and his agency, okay?"

"Okay, sir."

And after some farewell hugs and kisses, the two girls, along with Kelly, Robin's bodyguard, left.

Mindy did give Sally a piece of paper, and she nodded, pocketing it instead of reading it.

We walked them to the elevator, and after yet another set of hugs and kisses, they left.

I looked at Sarah.

"Well," I said, "that's that. Let's just make sure these girls are what we're hoping them to be. And a bodyguard, huh? She must be a big deal for her current boss to give her a bodyguard."

"Hey, Ed?" Sarah said. I recognized that tone.

"All right. What's this new hare-brained idea of yours, Sarah?"

"What if we delay our catalog's release? Make a totally new campaign for the YA line?"

I looked at her. "There'll be hell to pay if we do that. The delays alone…"

"Well, first lemme do some phone calls and such. But if I can make sure that we can push the date back without too much trouble, would you agree to a new layout for the YA section?"

"What's your idea?"

"Let's revamp the YA section. It's just a couple of pages worth at the moment. What if we design a totally new campaign around Robin? The works?"

It sounded totally ridiculous. I mean, who would risk so much and delay the rollout of my catalog when everything was set and ready to go. It's not just the actual cost of it but the penalty in goodwill with my various clients and partners. But I was considering it. I was actually considering this extremely, absolutely ridiculous idea.

What has come over me?

- - - - -

***** (Sally) *****

Courtesy of Kelly's driver, we were toured around the city, with Kelly sitting in front with the driver. It wasn't much of a tour, actually - we basically drove past major points of interest, such as the Weisman Art Museum (which looked similar to the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao) and the castle-like American Swedish Institute. We took time to look through the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, though, and saw the giant bent spoon with the giant cherry. We also drove past the Crystal Court Piazza that looked like something out of King Arthur's court instead of just being part of some mall.

Aside from the sculpture garden, all we saw were the outside of these places - it was like a driving tour. But that was okay. At least we got a bit of a feel of the place and got lots of pictures. And as we drove and rode around, we talked about what we just went through.

I was absurdly grateful to Robin for getting me a modeling gig. Both of us knew that I got the job because of Robin, but she didn't lord it over me, and instead behaved like we both got our gig based on our own merits or appeal or whatever, which was so gracious of her, I think. But I only realized then how much the gig meant to me.

In any case, we thought the day went well, and we were excited for our new modeling prospects. Or at least I was. But we decided that we should only discuss it further after their offer letters arrived.

It was a full day, and we ended up at a restaurant called The Borough for dinner (Ms Rhodes had us reserved already). Mindy, Mr. Blumenfeld's assistant, called to confirm if we were "enjoying our dinner," and also confirmed that our limousine to the airport would be on standby outside the restaurant. Because of that, the limo driver moved our stuff into the limo's trunk, and Kelly let her driver go for the day.

When I did my own little modeling gig last year, I wasn't this well treated. They must really want Robin.

We didn't really have time to refresh our clothes, our makeup or anything and made do with freshening ourselves up in the restaurant's lounge a.k.a. the bathroom.

We dawdled over our dinner since we had more than an hour to kill before we needed to start for the airport, so we picked a sample platter and enjoyed little amuse bouche servings of steaks and other little cuts as we chatted. Of course these tiny servings were not enough for Robin, so she ordered a ribeye burger they called a "parlour burger." As for Kelly, she sat two tables away having their high-cuisine spaghetti. Robin gestured for her to join us, but she shook her head. I guess she was just being professional and was following instructions.

We decided to go, eventually, and though Robin tried to leave tips, our waiter and the maitre d' returned it, politely saying it wasn't necessary. I guess they had strict instructions from Sarah.

I felt so fancy when they opened the limousine door for us, and we got in. As for Kelly, she sat up front with the driver.

While we were riding to the airport, I opened the note Mindy gave me earlier and I squealed.

"What!" Robin said.

I showed her the note. Apparently, the stuff we looked at in their offices - Mindy had gotten them all for us, and will be shipping them in two separate boxes via overnight shipping. It should be arriving in the office by tomorrow night or the following morning. The packages were under our names, but she said we needed to inform someone at the office so it doesn't get lost or opened by someone else.

"Wow, that's great!" Robin commented. "But they never asked us about sizes…"

"Silly girl," I laughed. "They're fashion experts. I'm sure they were able to get our measurements just by eyeballing us."

Robin shrugged. "If you say so," she said. She didn't seem to believe me.

The flight back was totally uneventful - almost a repeat of our flight coming in, except we had a few mashers in line as we went through security. I guess Robin couldn't just let the noisy, stupid SOBs by especially when the one nearest her started rubbing her butt, so she kneed him and left him squirming in pain on the floor. Two of his friends stepped in to intervene, grabbing her by her arms, but Robin pulled herself free and used the heel of her right hand to hit one in the chest and literally knock him down. With the other one, she basically grabbed him by the arm, pulled him down and kept him kneeling using a headlock. Kelly, for her part, imposed herself between us and the rest of their gang. Airport security rushed to us in seconds and got things under control.

Witnesses corroborated our story, thank god. Robin, however, refused to file charges or anything since our flight was leaving in less than thirty minutes, but it was hardly necessary since, later on, we found that those guys were held back and were charged by airport administration itself. They couldn't protest that they were innocent because of the security footage. Their big mistake was they did it right in the security area. Like I said, they were stupid.

"Wow," Kelly said as we bought some trinkets and souvenirs in the duty free, "I don't think you even need a bodyguard."

"Oh, shut up!" Robin laughed and hugged her by the neck and gave her a sisterly kiss on the cheek. "You're my protection."

On the plane, Robin and I sat beside each other (Robin asked for the window seat again) while Kelly sat across the aisle from me, and, like a light, Robin fell asleep.

Even asleep, Robin was so gorgeous. Her gentle breathing was so serene, and her occasional, funny little nose wiggling as she slept was so cute.

But I didn't want to be accused of staring, especially with Kelly there, so I closed my eyes and feigned sleep. But even with eyes closed, I couldn't escape Robin - it was like I could even smell her or something, or she had an aura that one couldn't escape, not that one would even want to.

The flight landed thirty minutes earlier than scheduled again, and we were out of the airport by eleven. Robin quickly booked an Uber while Kelly went to fetch her car, which was parked in one of those overnight-parking structures.

Our Uber was there in less than five minutes, and we were at my apartment in less than thirty. After a final hug, Robin got back in, waved, and her Uber pulled away. Kelly waved as she zoomed passed me, and sped after Robin.

I waved back, lost in thought. I couldn't believe everything that happened today. It was fun, it was eventful, and, courtesy of Robin, I now have a modeling gig which could be the beginning of the career I wanted.

All my hopes and dreams in one day.

I should be thinking of these things, I said to myself, but I was mostly thinking of Robin. That girl was so amazing.

I wondered if she already had a boyfriend. Or maybe girlfriend. I hope she didn't yet. As my dad would say, it doesn't hurt to hope.

- - - - -

***** (Joanne) *****

I got a text from Danny, and she said their flight had landed early. Oh, gosh.

I got dressed quickly, texted the girls, gave my mom and dad a kiss (they were still up), and rushed to mom's beauty salon, not allowing them to comment on my sudden late night departure. Nikki, Danielle and Tracey arrived at mom's a few minutes after I did - Tracey drove them - and we waited for Danny while I got my stall ready.

It was a short wait - in a while, a car pulled up outside.

"It's Danny!" Nikki exclaimed.

"You mean 'Robin,'" Danielle joked.

Nikki stuck her tongue out at her and rushed to open the front door. As soon as she saw Danny, she glomped Danny good, and proceeded to pepper her face with kisses.

"Hey!" I said, "cool it, kid, and allow her to sit down, at least!"

Everyone laughed, and Danny collapsed in the styling chair and sighed theatrically.

"You fink!" Nikki giggled.

"I love you, too, my dear," Danny dimpled.

So, while Danny was reclining in the wash chair as I used the special shampoo to get rid of the hair coloring, she told us all about her trip.

We were all on tenterhooks as she recounted her day. It was exciting the way she told it - it sounded so fun. She told of the potential for a possible modeling job for both her and Sally, and we were excited for her, although I felt a strong pang of jealousy whenever she talked of both her and Sally modeling, but I tried to put that senseless-slash-illogical anger out of my mind. I mean, what right do I have to be jealous?

She told us of their problems in airport security, but was pretty pleased at how it eventually worked out.

"Where was Kelly, then," Tracey asked. "Security's her job." She sounded a bit angry and indignant. I felt angry, too. Why wasn't Kelly doing her job?

"Oh, it's not her fault," Danny said. "Things happened so fast, I just reacted. And Kelly was there, blocking the other guys from coming close just when they were thinking of hitting me back."

Anyway, everything seemed have gone well. The people from Blumenfeld even sent over "care packages" full of goodies.

But what Danny said next made me think there was a problem.

"Sally and I pointed out all the people in our posters," Danny said, "and asked if any others could also be part of this modeling gig, but I guess they were looking for something specific for their YA line. They picked Sally, 'Robin,' and maybe 'Dannie.'"

"Ummm…" Tracey said tentatively but smilingly, "do you mean 'Danny, Danielle's brother,' or do you mean 'Dannie the Singer?'"

"Well, of course, I mean 'Dannie the Singer,'" she replied, and stuck her tongue out at Tracey.

By that time, Danny was already sitting up and I was getting the makeup out of her eyebrows and eyelashes. She paused a bit as I finished with her lashes and brows, and wiped them with another damp corner of the washcloth.

I turned on a handheld blow-dryer and no one could speak over the noise. When her hair was fairly dry, I started combing and teasing her hair into the low-maintenance style I made for her.

"So, anyway," Danny said, continuing while I finished styling her hair, "Dannie-the-Singer is gonna be asked to interview, too, just like Robin. "

"Wow," Tracey said, "how will you be able to manage, Danny? What if they want both Robin and Dannie in the same room together, or modeling at the same time?"

"Well, that's not a problem." Nikki said. "Danielle can just fake it again, and replace Dannie. Besides, as far as her paperwork goes, Dannie-the-singer is actually Danielle, anyway."

"I don't think that'll work, Nick," Danny said, and then went through the strange thing where they seemed to be able to tell Danny-as-Dannie from Danielle-as-Dannie.

"That's weird," Danielle said.

"Yeah," Danny nodded (she stopped nodding when I hit her lightly on top of the head). "Stop moving," I said.

"Well," Tracey said, "maybe as fashion experts, they see something we don't. Whatever that is, who knows?"

"Well," Nikki asked, "what do we do if they ask Danny to model while Robin's there? How do we manage both of them modeling at the same time?"

"Let's think about that for a while," Tracey, said, "and talk about it later. I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Everyone nodded at that.

By that time, I was all done with Danny's hair.

"Okay, Danny," I explained, "in school tomorrow, what you do is you put the main bulk of your hair under your collar, leaving the shorter outer layer out of the collar." I demoed with her jacket. "So, with that part hidden by your shirt or jacket, it looks like you just have a semi-long boy's haircut. When it's out of the collar, it'll look like Scarlett Johansson's style in Ghost In the Shell, except yours is longer." I demoed again.

Everyone went, "oooh!" and "that's amazing!"

"But, Joanne," Danielle said, "won't that be too warm? With her hair inside her collar? And wouldn't it be, when she moved her head, the hair might come out of the collar?"

"You're right, of course," I replied. "The technique therefore would be, you make a ponytail out of the long part, and that's what you hide under your collar."

Again, everyone went, "oooh!" and "that's amazing!"

And, in the following silence, I then said, "you guys are so transparent - you just want me to give you the same haircut for free."

Everyone laughed at that.

"Anyway," I said, whipping away the barber's sheet, "goodbye, Robin, welcome back, Danny!"

"Yayyy!" everyone cheered and clapped and Danny stood and bowed.

The girls all gathered around Danny's newly-renewed red hair, and marveled at my hair cut. Darn… looks like I'm gonna have to do more overtime and replicate my new "Danny Do" on the girls.

- - - - -

***** (Nikki) *****

Danielle brought Danny a change of clothes - just a pair of his regular jeans, a button-down long-sleeved shirt, a t-shirt bra, extra socks and sneakers. Danny changed behind one of the changing areas behind a curtain. And in less than a minute, he was back.

"Okay, girls," he said, "it's almost one AM, time to boogie on outa here." He got the bag from duty free, and handed out little souvenirs. For us girls, he got us cute little plushies of a brown bear called TC, and a gopher called Goldy. As for the guys, he had little keychains and such that he'll be distributing tomorrow. Tracey and Danielle got Goldys, and Joanne and I got TCs.

Danny gave Joanne a hug and we were off.

We piled into Tracey's FJ Cruiser. Naturally, Danny and I shared the back, so Danielle sat in front with Tracey.

"So, where we going?" Tracey asked.

"To our place, Trace," Danielle said. "Nikki's staying overnight. You want to stay overnight, too? I got pizza and other stuff." She elbowed Tracey in the ribs and waggled her eyebrows. "We can have a sleepover."

Tracey looked crestfallen. "I didn't come prepared. And I didn't ask mom… As it is, she won't be too happy I'm still not home."

"Would it help if I gave her a call?"

"Not really, but thank you for offering."

Gentle, well-meaning Tracey. I leaned forward and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

Soon, we were at Danny's, and we gave Tracey hugs and sent her off.

Kelly beeped, waved and left too. I guess she's off-shift now. We looked down the street, and we saw Linton, one of Danny's other bodyguards, parked twenty feet down the road. He flashed his lights and we waved to him.

"So, Danny," Danielle said, "Nikki and I will be in my room. Mom says you can't stay with us, though."

"I can't?" he looked crestfallen.

"Danielle?" I said, "maybe your folks won't mind that he stay with us if we kept the door wide open?"

She thought about it. "I think you're right," she said, "and if it's not, we'll just kick Danny out." Danielle and I giggled.

So Danielle and I got in our jammies, and Danny had a quick shower and changed into shorts and a long-sleeved henley before joining us. He also changed into a more comfortable t-shirt bra.

He came into Danielle's room with one of the pizzas Danielle got in one hand, microwaved and ready to munch, and a bunch of paper plates, cups and napkins in the other. He had his sleeping bag roll under one arm, and a six-pack of diet soda under the other.

"Thanks, Dan," Danielle said. "dump all that stuff on my dresser, and you can set up your sleeping bag at the foot of the bed."

We ended up lying on the bed lengthwise on our tummies facing Danny, who was on the floor near Danielle's bed lying inside his sleeping bag. I wanted Danny to stay on the bed with us but Danielle wouldn't allow it because their mom might peek in, so I suggested I join him on the floor.

Danielle nixed that as well. I wanted to argue but Danny agreed with her. I laughed to myself - if he didn't, I might have just ignored Danielle and just did what I wanted.

It was nice. Almost like a sleepover, but this time, instead of Danny-the-girl, we had Danielle's brother Danny-the-boy. Funny to say, even if just to myself, but it did change the nature of the sleepover a little bit.

Somehow our chat moved on to Danny's trip to Minneapolis. That was not really a surprise. After all, we were constantly together so there were very few new things we could chat about. Danny's trip was new.

It was Danny's first plane ride, and he talked about how exciting it was to be up in the air, and not seeing anything but clouds. He wasn't scared at all, he said, and it was fun, even though they had to get to the airport so early, going through security and checking in was such a hassle.

"And then there were those weirdos in line," Danny said, frowning.

I giggled. "Not a problem," I said. "Just one shot, and pow!" I smacked my hand with my fist, and all of us giggled.

"… although…" Danny said as he munched on a slice of pizza, "that thing Tracey brought up - it's still bothering me. You know the Robin-and-Dannie-simultaneously-modeling thing?"

"Well, Danny," Danielle said, "seems to me, there really is nothing for it but for me to substitute for you."

"But, Danielle," I interjected, "you heard what Danny said. They can tell you and Dannie-the-singer apart!"

Danielle shook her head. "I don't believe it. I mean, how can they tell us apart from a picture? Those who attended the concert couldn't tell. How could these people tell?"

She got up and got some stuff from her desk - a box of the tarot card-sized posters, and several eight by ten prints of Danny singing in the concert.

We went through the pictures. "See?" Danielle said, "no difference!"

"Hard to tell," I said. "I mean, how can you compare? Completely different outfits, so…"

"I got an idea," Danny said as he leafed through the eight-by-tens. He picked a half a dozen pictures of himself in that amazing red dress. He then grabbed some scissors and started cutting around Dannie.

"Wait!" Danielle said.

"I'll get you replacements," Danny said, and then handed the pictures to me. "Take a look at those, Nikki," he said to me.

"Hey, those are…" Danielle started to say but Danny interrupted her.

"Shhh, sis! Let Nikki look look at them."

I looked at Danny questioningly, but I did what he asked, not understanding.

"What do you think," he asked.

"Hmmm…" I said. I don't understand what he wanted from me, but I dutifully looked at all of them. Just pictures of Danny being perfectly gorgeous as Dannie. But…

"These are different somehow." I separated two of them from the rest.

"Different how?" he asked, but I really couldn't figure it out. I shrugged.

"Different better?" Danielle asked.

"Ummm, not really…"

"So, Danielle," Danny said. "How'd Nikki do?"

Danielle gave Danny a look, and then gave him a razzberry.

"What!" I said. "What's…"

"Well…" Danny said, "you've proved what I've been saying." He pointed at the pictures. "You've picked out the two pictures of Danielle when she was singing on stage as Dannie, from the rest of my pictures." He gestured with the scissors in his hand. "I cut out the rest of the pictures so you couldn't tell which were me and which were Danielle. And, guess what? You still could."

Danielle reached over and grabbed the picture-cutouts from my hand. "Dammit," she said, looking at them. "I still don't see how…"

"Hey," Danny said, "I trimmed the pictures to take out everything that could have identified you, yet she was able to find out which pictures were you without prompting. "

She shook her head. "I don't see how…"

Danny shrugged. "Even so, she still did it."

"Okay, okay! I concede! So… what now?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it?"

We looked at each other. "Yeah, it is."

I looked at the cut-out pictures again. What is it that made the difference? Dammit! They look almost the same as to be indistinguishable from each other. But… There was a difference! Dammit! WTF, what was it?

"Hmmm…" Danny said, "this is gonna require another pizza!" He got up to go downstairs, get one from the fridge and nuke it.

"All you can think of is food!" I said, laughing.

I turned to Danielle to make a joke of it, but she called out, "Dan! Get two, okay?"

I sighed. These two were really brother and sister.

- - - - -

***** (Nikki) *****

After school the following day, most of the gang went with us to the station. Morgan and the others because of their job, and Danny, Danielle and I to meet with Tracey to talk about our "cockamamie" plan, as Danielle called it. I had to look up the word. And the connotation of the word was so very far away from what the word really meant. Reviewing for SATs has really made Danielle as nerdy as Betsy…

Of course, per the "plan," while still in school, Danny changed into an outfit of Danielle's, and Danielle into one of Danny's.

Tracey led us to the office's conference room. We waited for Joanne, and as soon as she came in, Tracey started our little "meeting."

"So," Tracey said, "tell me about this plan."

Our plan really was, ummm… cockamamie. Listen to this: The new made-up story was that Dannie-the-singer and Robin don't like each other, and everyone knew about it (supposedly). In fact, they didn't like each other so much that they didn't even want to be near each other. No one really knew why, except that Dannie's brother-and-manager suspects it has to be some kind of professional jealousy, which, apparently took root during the Rockrgrrl and Prêt-à-Porter photoshoots. And, because of which, Dannie was a little off her game during those shoots, which accounted for her less-than-perfect shots (and, hopefully, this would explain why Dannie's pics were not as great as they could be, and get the Blumenfeld people off this feeling that something was wrong with Dannie's pics), and, because of which, there was also a professional parting-of-the-ways between Danny and Robin, and Danny wasn't Robin's "manager" anymore.

Effectively, this isolated Robin from the rest of the gang, which would minimize possible flubs and snafus. Which was the plan.

And, yes, it WAS confusing. Tell me about it.

Anyway, during this upcoming meeting, Dannie will demand from the Blumenfeld people that she will only sign if she doesn't have to work with Robin, or be together in the same photoshoot, or even be in the same building with her.

If the Blumenfeld people should balk at these demands, then our official line would be "tough noogies." (Sorry! Danny said that was our official line! Lol)

Anyway, what I mean to say was that these demands were non-negotiable. And if they don't like it, then Dannie will have to pass on the opportunity to model for Blumenfeld.

Confusing? Yep! Will it work? No one knows!

However, joking aside, that was the only way we could think of to manage this.

That, or to drop the offer altogether. Which both Tracey and Danielle didn't want to do.

Tracey wanted this to push through. Seems she had the idea to make Blumenfeld yet another "Official Partner" of KRPQ (which would never have been possible if it didn't), and, with her mom's help, and with Robin and Dannie both modeling for them, Tracey thought this would be a sure thing.

As we were meeting, Danny's phone beeped. Twice. One was for an email for Robin containing an offer letter from Blumenfeld, and the other was an email for Dannie, arranging for an interview with Sarah Michelle Rhodes.

Danny passed his phone around, and said that the interview invitation seemed to be just like the one sent to Robin: it went the same way as before, but the difference was that Sarah beat her to accommodating a chaperone or companion. But "Dannie" had no adult to accompany her this time. Sarah assumed it would be one of her parents, but, of course, that was out of the question. And, if so, then the only people among our friends that qualified as adults were the eighteen-year-olds - Dale, Mongo or June.

"What if you ask Sally again?" I asked.

"Well," Danny said, "that would be a bit awkward, wouldn't it? I mean, if Dannie is supposed to be in a feud with Robin, why would she bring Robin's friend?"

"Oh, yeah… Then, I guess it has to be June, then."

"Nope," Danielle said.

"Well, it can't be Dale or Mongo," I said. "They're boys!"

"I didn't mean that! I meant a sixteen-year-old can travel alone. The only excuse for Robin to bring Sally was in case there was an ID issue. The rule is, on a flight, anyone under eighteen who didn't have an ID would need someone eighteen or older with her.

"But since Danielle has a passport as well as regular IDs, and since our state is Real ID-compliant, and Danny will be using the rest of Danielle's papers, then she has all the ID that she needs."

"Cool," Danny said.

"And since I can also use Danny's IDs," Danielle said, "then I can go on the trip, too!"

Tracey shook her head. "You can't, Danielle," she said.

"Well, why the heck not!"

"Like Danny said, the Blumenfeld people might feel something fishy if they see the two of you together."

"But…"

"Tracey's right," I said. "Remember what we talked about last night, Danielle? Remember the pictures?"

"Pictures?" Tracey asked.

"But…" Danielle thought it over. "You're right… Dammit…."

Through the glass wall of the conference room, we saw Sally walking down the hall, carrying a two-by-two cardboard box under one arm, and wearing a big grin.

We waved to her. She took it as an invitation and went into the conference room.

"Hello, everyone!" Sally said. "What's happening?"

"Hey, Sally," Tracey said. "We were just talking about Dannie's invitation for an interview with Blumenfeld House. They want her to model for them."

"Ahh! So they sent a letter already. Cool!"

"What do you have there?" Danny asked.

"This?" she pointed at her box. "Oh, just some stuff the Blumenfeld people sent me." She let us peek inside and it was full of clothes and other goodies. I looked at some of the tags, and they were all Blumenfeld. Wow!

"Anyway," she said, "I was hoping to find Robin. There's supposed to be a box for her, too, in the loading area." She giggled. "I don't know how she's gonna bring it home, though. It's a five-foot by five-foot by five-foot crate!"

"Ummm," Tracey said, "I don't think she's in the office…"

"Oh, well. I guess I'll text her." Sally started typing. "Thanks, Tracey."

We all noticed Danny grab his phone and surreptitiously turn the sound off. Thank goodness Sally was engrossed with her typing so she didn't see that.

"Okay, that's it, then!" she said after she finished her text. After a few minutes more of chit-chat, she waved at us and went out with her loot.

"So?" I asked Danny.

Danny looked at his phone. "Yep," he said, "Sally sent a text about my 'care package.'"

"Answer her, Danny."

He typed a response, and Sally responded right away.

"Ummm, Sally also texted Robin," Danny said, "asking if we could meet and compare offer letters. How do you guys think I should respond?"

"Hmmm…" Joanne said. "I think you should meet with her. Maybe tomorrow after lunch?"

"What about school?"

"Tell your folks. Tell her it's about a job offer, and maybe they can write a note for you?"

Dan looked a little skeptical. "You think?"

"Sure. Tell 'em you need to talk over the job offer with some people. And if they want proof, show 'em the offer letter to Robin."

"Is that wise? My folks aren't too happy about my Dannie-the-singer thing. And though we haven't talked about it much, I'm sure they feel the same with my Robin thing."

Joanne shrugged. "Up to you. But I think they'll write you the note."

Danny sighed. "Okay. I'll text Sally. And I'll talk to the folks later."

He turned to Tracey and changed the topic. "Trace, how can I get that crate to my house?"

Tracey nodded. "I'll arrange something."

We then talked about what Tracey wanted to talk about - essentially, the KRPQ partnership thing with Blumenfeld.

Tracey didn't know how to broach the subject with the Blumenfeld folks. After all, it would be terribly presumptuous to talk partnerships when they were in the middle of negotiations with Dannie.

"I guess that's true," Danielle said, and thought for a bit. "How about this - you let them know that you guys are aware that they have seen the Prêt-à-Porter, Alley-Oop and Rockrgrrl posters, and that they'e in negotiations with Robin. You guys therefore thought of a partnership, and then you can explain what you have in mind."

"But then," Tracey said, "they're still negotiating with Robin and Dannie - won't that seem like we're saying they won't be able to hire the girls if we don't partner…"

Joanne shrugged. "Not a problem," she said. "You can just say directly that there is no, what's the phrase? Tit for tat?"

"I think you mean 'quid pro quo,'" Danielle laughed.

Joanne nodded. "… that there's no quid pro quo, and that their dealings with Robin and Danny are totally separate, and you will not interfere or influence that."

"Would they even believe that?" Tracey asked.

Joanne shrugged. "Doesn't matter. The fact that it's in the letter means they have something they can use, just in case the deal falls through."

"I think you're oversimplifying that…"

"I wouldn't be surprised if I was," Joanne giggled. "I'm no negotiator. The only other option is that you let them finish their negotiations with the girls first."

"Well… I guess that's the safest way to go," she said.

"Good," Joanne said, and rubbed her hands together comically. "So now that that's settled, let's go to Danny's and wait for all the goodies that she got."

Everyone laughed.

***** (Danny) *****

Danielle, Joanne, Nikki and I went home after that meeting, and I left the girls in the living room while I had a long talk with the parental units.

True to form, after they found out where I went the day before - that I actually flew to Minneapolis, and that I met with some people for a job as "Robin," and I was going to do it again this coming Sunday, but now as "Dannie" - Dad wasn't too happy how things were playing out, and was worried for me. Aside from the legal and criminal possibilities (defrauding the IRS, impersonating other people, fraud, et cetera), he was worried about me personally. Wouldn't all of this put a toll on my own ideas of who I was or who I wanted to be. Dad said he was no doctor so he couldn't really fully articulate his worries, but I said I knew what he was saying.

I defended myself, showed my new Robin papers so, as far as the paperwork was concerned, Robin was a complete legal entity. As for the modelling, I told him that it wasn't me signing up, but Danielle, so legally, there was no problem. So long as no one twigs to the fact that both were actually me, there's no problem.

"That's a big 'if' to hang your future, Danny," he said. "You realize that Danielle is part of this if ever you go down? And since your mother and I know, we are accessories after the fact?"

"I know, Dad, but I don't think it'll come to that."

He shook his head. "No, Danny."

"As far as I understand the law," I said, "it's too late now, Dad. It's already done. Danielle and I are already guilty."

"Then we surrender - we'll throw ourselves on the mercy of the court."

"Dad..."

"Dammit, son, I feel like you kids tricked your mother and me - that you set it up so we couldn't say no to this scheme of yours."

"I didn't intend for this to happen, Dad. It... just did."

And I told my folks everything. Everything except the stuff about Batch 14, my pheromones and what they can do to people, and what the Doc and my so-called dietician have been doing.

I started my story by saying that I would be abbreviating things, but would be open to getting into them later, or answer any and all questions.

And through my entire recitation, ma and dad were slack-jawed and seemingly unable to believe even though they knew what I was saying was true. An epic story, I believe. Not Jason and the Argonauts epic, but nevertheless...

Eventually, though, it was inevitable that my folks turned it back to me, and what I felt this meant to me. As to my feelings about all this, I said I was happy for everything that has happened. I said I was glad I had the beginnings of a career now.

"But as a girl, Dan!" he said. "Is that okay with you?"

I put down my Coke Zero as I sat by the kitchen table, and sighed.

Mom sat down beside me and put an arm around my shoulders.

"Are you okay, my love," mom said.

"I'm okay mom," I said, gave her a little kiss of thanks on the cheek. I looked at dad. "I guess I'm okay with that, dad. But… but… are you okay with that? I don't know if…"

Dad came close and crouched down so he would be eye-level.

"Dan," he said gently. "We talked about this before. I don't care about that. All that I care about - all that your mom and I care about - is that you are happy, and that you won't get hurt."

"Then believe this, dad," I said. "I'm okay as a girl. I can be a girl or a guy - doesn't matter to me. What I want is that I'm accepted, and that my friends and family are happy for me, and that I get to do what I'm best at. But the thing is… I couldn't bear it if… if I lost you…" I wasn't teary-eyed anymore. I was crying now.

Dad reached over and gave me a hug.

"Never worry about that. You will never lose us. Your mom and I will always love you and support you."

I let out a shuddering breath. "Thanks, dad. I love you…"

"I love you, too, kid," he said, and cleared his throat. His eyes were very bright, but he didn't cry. That's just dad being dad.

"Okay," he said. Apparently, for him and ma, things were now settled. "I'm gonna want to look at those 'Robin papers' of yours, and take a look at your offer letter."

He let me up and I went to my backpack. I brought out my driver's license as Robin, my ID and my social security card as Robin, and the packet that contained my new passport, birth certificate, high school certificate and other papers.

Dad spread them on the kitchen table and looked at everything.

"Well," dad said, "they seem to be authentic, despite Robin being just a paper person…"

"My boss says they are," I said. "They're backstopped with the TSA, the IRS, the Department of Education, and even with the FBI."

"Wow…" dad said. "I can't believe Mrs. Piper would do all this for you."

I shrugged. "I guess it's her way of helping her daughter Tracey build up the radio station. Mrs. P is building the station for Tracey - she wants the station to be Tracey's eventually. And at the moment" - I shrugged - "Robin and Dannie-the-singer are very important to the station."

"But aren't you worried that you'll be found out because of these…" He waved my "Robin papers."

"They're genuine, dad," I said. "Trust Mrs. P's connections."

"What if Mrs. Piper holds this over you, like it's her way of controlling you?"

I shrugged. "I don't think she would. But I guess that's possible. Although that would make her and Tracey accessories, so I have that to hold over on her. Sort of a mutually-assured-destruction thing."

"How about that contract?"

"I haven't signed it yet - I wanted to review it first." I got the copy of the contract I printed up at the station and handed it to him.

Dad nodded. "I'll work on that for you." Dad was an executive for one of the small savings and loan companies in the neighboring city, and he specialized in contract loans and financing. He was probably the only contract lawyer that the town had - just what I needed.

As usual, Dad got engrossed in it, and my mom and I decided to leave him. She started preparing some snacks for all of us - diet snacks for her and the girls as usual, and regular food for Dad and me - so I went in search of the girls.

"Ma?" I said, turning back to her for a moment.

"Yes, my dear?" she said.

"I love you." And I rushed out.

They weren't in the living room so I went upstairs, but they weren't in either Danielle's room or my room. Eventually, I found them in the garage. By that time, I had fully recovered from my little cry.

Inside the garage was a big crate that was eyeballs-high. They were contemplating how to go about opening it, apparently.

"Whatinheck is that!" I cried.

"It's your stuff, silly," Nikki said, "or rather Robin's stuff." She giggled.

Danielle was going around and around it, trying to figure out how to open it.

"RTFM, Danielle," I laughed. I got this little folded-up piece of paper inside a plastic bag stapled to the side of the crate. Following the instructions, I looked for dad's small fifteen-inch crowbar and looked for the side that had the words "front" and "this side up," and an arrow pointing up spray-painted in red.

"Here we go," I said, and jammed the crowbar into the left edge and then pushed out to pull out the nails.

"Let me do the other side," Danielle said. She got the crowbar from me but was barely able to jam it into the right edge. "I can't do it," she huffed. Joanne looked at her in humorous disgust, took the crowbar from her and got it in but was hardly able to budge it either.

"Gimme that!" I said. I jammed it in deeper, pushed out and pulled out the nails on that side as well.

I then did the top edge by climbing onto a chair and, following the instructions, pulled down the whole side like it was the tailgate of a pickup.

That whole side banged down, and we saw everything in the crate.

"Wow," Nikki said. Inside was like a display in a department store - dresses, tops, pants and leggings, jackets and coats, shirts, lingerie, and several types of shoes. Each piece was hung neatly in its own plastic garment bag on a pipe that stretched across the inside of the box like a clothes rack, with other pieces - mostly shoes - in sealed bags or in boxes at the bottom.

Nikki picked one up from the bottom and looked at it. She then picked up another one, and then another. She then looked at some of the stuff hanging from the pipe.

"Oh, damn," she said.

"What's wrong, Nikki," Danielle asked.

"It's all in Danny's size!" she pouted. "They won't fit me!"

"Darn," Joanne said. "Then they won't fit me either."

"That's not true," I said. "I'm sure you guys can find something that will fit." I looked through them myself, not really opening any. I only recognized a third of them - these being the stuff that Sally and I saw at Blumenfeld's, but the others were totally new. There were also over a dozen shoes, and a several boots and sneakers.

But Nikki was right - they're all in my sizes. "You know, I never even tried any of these on," I said. "It's amazing how they even knew my size." I opened up one of the shoe boxes and the shoes had the correct size, too.

Danielle looked at everything with a predatory gleam in her eye.

"You're probably thinking that you can borrow all of these since you and Danny have the same sizes," Joanne said.

"Yesss!" she answered and laughed like a mad scientist from a movie.

Joanne shook her head and smiled evilly.

"What?!" Danielle said. "But why!"

"Sorry, honey," she said. "The Blumenfeld guys gave these clothes to Robin. So you can't be seen in any of them since Dannie-the-singer and Robin are supposed to be on the outs."

"But… but… but… how would they know? They won't see…"

"Sorry, Danielle," Joanne giggled, "but better not. It's best to be safe."

"Dammit!"

to be continued...

 

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