Heiress: (Feminization, Crossdressing) Read online

  Christina, for her part, was separated from all of us.

  She was much harder to read than her friend. Ella reminded me of a lot of girls I knew in college, from her tight-kneed posture to the way she tugged a lock of her auburn hair whenever she was nervous. By the time Marvin was launching into his humorous frat stories, the anxious movements had disappeared completely. She was a girl-next-door making her way in the real world.

  Christina was different, not just from Ella, but from any girl I’d met. When she introduced herself to my employees she did so with a firm grip and strong eye contact, like she’d had some business experience. Oddly, however, she didn’t join the main group on the couches or around the bar. She stayed at the wall, leaning against it with her arms spread and her hand wrapped around her glass. Her feet were spread wide and her hips were tilted back. Her posture wasn’t entirely feminine, which made it all the more enticing.

  “You make that yourself?” I asked, passing by the mystery woman on my way to the bar.

  She tinkled the ice in her glass. “They don’t have any grenadine.”

  “I’ll be sure to mention that in my Yelp review.”

  Christina let out a chortle. Again, not the most feminine sort of laugh. Most girls would blush with embarrassment at the sound. Not Christina. Instead, she stood beside me as I reached up into the highest cupboards - the ones she couldn’t reach.

  “Oooh, hand me that!” She reached her painted nails up and pointed at a bottle of cointreau. “That one!”

  “You gonna say please?”

  “No. Are you going to give me the cointreau?”

  Well, she pronounced it right. I handed her the bottle, amused by her manners, or lack thereof.

  “Margaritas?” I asked.

  “Only if we had any coarse salt,” said Christina, assembling her armory of bottles. “I’m gonna make a sidecar.”

  “Make me one too.”

  The withering look Christina gave me - the one that said I’m no one’s servant - made the whole night worthwhile. I didn’t even know what a sidecar was, but it’d just become my favorite drink.

  “Fine,” she groused. “But only because you got me out of that jam earlier.”

  “Yeah, about that…”

  Christina focused on pouring her drink, took a sip, then reluctantly pulled another glass toward her to make mine. Not once did she look up at me, though the light blush around her cherubic cheeks meant I had her attention.

  “You want to tell me how you got up here?”

  “Nope!”

  “Fair enough.”

  That earned me a glance. “Ella and I are leaving soon, don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried. You can stay.”

  She sniffed. “Why are you so eager to have us here? I mean, why didn’t you have us kicked out?”

  “That would have put a damper on the night.” I motioned to my out-of-earshot coworkers. “Everyone’s enjoying themselves. Even Ella. I doubt we’d feel the same if we had to watch two sobbing girls get escorted to the police by 600 pounds of club bouncer.”

  “I wouldn’t have cried.”

  “Knowing you, you probably would have weaseled your way out of the cop car.”

  Christina threw her head back with a huge, cocky smile. “Yup. But you don’t know me at all, Harrow.” She passed me my drink. “Cheers.”

  We clinked glasses. The cognac, lemon juice, and cointreau melded together nicely.

  With the booze flowing and the laughter drifting over from the couches, Christina opened up to me - a little, at least. She admitted to sneaking into VIP. There was no way around that one. I had to use my imagination when it came to how she figured out the door lock’s combination or how she got passed the bouncers on the first floor, but the rest of the story wasn’t hard to put together. Her buddy who ran, Andrew, made it pretty obvious who these kids were. They were college students from one of the many Femnosi universities out for a pleasant night that mischievous Christina had decided to make better. Her luck would’ve run out if I hadn’t intervened - and she was entirely ungrateful for that.

  Somehow, that was kind of a turn on.

  Chapter 5

  CHRISTINA

  My goal was to wait until they left, follow them out discreetly, and run like hell away from Amber’s. With the bouncers outside the door and the balcony a good 15 feet above the dance floor, there was no way for me to leave without drawing attention.

  Ella didn’t have anything to lose - in fact, given the connections she was making with that business school clown, she may have had a lot to gain. People in power tended to forge relationships and help each other out. Femnos was a small country, but our universities, law firms, and corporations were world-class, and we preferred to rely on each other rather than look to outside help.

  Inverness, unfortunately, no longer had that privilege. We needed outside investment, and we needed it fast.

  I knew most of the big business leaders in Femnos, although I didn’t recognize Harrow. He was clearly the boss of this little outfit. Sure, nobody talked about work or projected a Powerpoint onto the wall, but his control over the rest of them was obvious. They glanced his way whenever they made a ribald joke, as if to silently ask if their behavior was allowed. Had I not been shanghaied into playing Boss’ Personal Bartender, they would have been falling over themselves to pour his drinks.

  I couldn’t stand that kind of behavior. I saw ass-kissing and kowtowing every single day at Inverness headquarters. Like hell if I was going to play that game on my night off.

  Whatever I did for Harrow I did because I had no choice. Piss him off and I’d be tossed out on my pantied ass.

  The fact that he actually liked my drinks was just a nice bonus.

  “Another one?” I asked, as Harrow set down his sidecar.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, right. It’s your booze, big boy.” I turned my body away from him. He needed another drink. While the rest of the white-collar crew was loosening their ties and splaying themselves over the furniture, Harrow remained just as he’d been when he arrived. So trim and muscular in that fine-cut suit, with those piercing grey eyes and that low, dark voice…

  Once he got drunk it’d be easier for me to sneak out. I’d let Ella know when I did, although she seemed pretty interested in that b-school ass. Maybe she’d want to stay.

  Like hell if I was going to hang out here all night. The clubs closed around midnight, but a lot of the bars stayed open til 2. I could salvage my night somewhere else.

  I just had to play good girl for a while.

  “Do you know how to make anything else?”

  “DUH!” I shot back, swinging around so quickly I almost hit Harrow in the chest with one of the bottles. My breath hitched in my throat - the cognac bottle barely grazed his shirt.

  “S-sorry,” I said in a quiet whisper.

  “You’re fine,” said Harrow, laying his arm on my shoulder. “No harm, no foul.”

  “Primum non nocere,” I replied. First, do no harm. Technically the doctor’s code, but it worked just as well for bartenders.

  Well, not really.

  Harrow looked down at me with unblinking eyes, staying silent. That’s when it clicked. I didn’t recognize Harrow because he wasn’t Femnosi. He must’ve been visiting. A CEO on a corporate retreat, maybe? There were myriad explanations as to why a rich business exec would be in Femnos; none of them had anything to do with me.

  Or so I thought. The realization just made me smile. Harrow would be gone in a matter of days; nothing I said or did with him could threaten my existence as Christopher, heir to the Inverness fortune.

  That took a huge weight off my shoulders.

  “You know what my favorite drink is?” I asked, tracing the toe of my shoe across the floor.

  “Surprise me.”

  “Shots.” I plucked two 1.5 ounce glasses off the bar counter. “Who wants a -”

  My declaration cut short
when Harrow put his hand on top of mine. “No.”

  I gawked at him, utterly perplexed. No? He made me bartender.

  “But -”

  “No one here needs to get white girl wasted. Especially you.”

  I was too shaken to let out a dramatic sigh. No one ever told me what to do - when it came to drinking, at least. Part of the fun of dressing like a girl was that you got as many free drinks as you wanted. When you said ‘shots,’ guys would pound the bar-top to get the waiter’s attention.

  Harrow was literally the first guy I’d ever met who’d ever said no to me when I was dressed up. Red fury drew across my cheeks.

  “You don’t have to say sorry,” said Harrow, plucking the shot glasses out of my hands and misreading my frustration for embarrassment. His gentle tone only made me all the angrier. “Go ahead and make another sidecar.”

  Fuming inside, I squeezed the rim of the glass Harrow handed me. I tossed back the remaining ice cubes and sucked the liquor off them.

  “Fine,” I growled, chewing the rest of the ice. “But I don’t want a sidecar. I want… a… a Mai tai.”

  The ridiculous tropical drink was, unfortunately, the first one that came to mind. Harrow may not have known what a sidecar was, but he knew a mai tai, and the choppy words were enough made him laugh.

  “Alright. You can make me one too.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” I shot back.

  “Oh. You do.”

  He headed out of the bar to go chat with his employees.

  I watched him go.

  Hating the fact that he was right.

  Why I wanted to do things for him, I had no idea.

  I just grabbed two glasses and got to mixing.

  Chapter 6

  HARROW

  I explicitly said no business-talk, but good luck getting these guys to stop chasing the brass ring, even for a night. While Martin remained distracted by the only thing men love more than money, Trevor and Trent talked in low tones around a small standing table, the condensation thick on their highball glasses.

  “That’s 18 year whiskey, gentlemen. No need to age it any further.”

  Trevor did a double take at his drink, then laughed hard. “Good one, sir!” He added with a slap to my back. Trent, being less of a kiss-ass, just smiled and picked up his glass.

  “You know, Harrow,” said Trevor, leaning in like he had a hot stock tip, “Trent and I were just discussing the meeting tomorrow.”

  I had a hunch. “You mean my meeting.”

  Trevor bristled a bit at my correction. The discussion over who should attend our negotiations with Inverness Ltd. tomorrow was surprisingly heated. I shut it down by insisting I’d go alone. That was how I preferred to work, and if they wanted me to come to this country to handle the negotiations then I wouldn’t budge. Apparently, things in Femnos were done a different way. They preferred having the entire company there during negotiations.

  Too bad, so sad.

  “Well, since we can’t be there,” said Trevor, forcing a smile, “we just wanted to make sure you -”

  “Excuse me, Martin?” My words cut over Trevor’s wheedling and the din of chatter. Martin, one arm slung low around Ella’s waist, was heading for the door. The man turned to me with a loose, cocky grin that all but evaporated once he saw my face.

  “Headed somewhere?” I asked.

  I could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down when he swallowed. Ella glanced up at her beau, confused.

  “We thought we’d check out the dance floor,” he replied.

  “Without telling me?”

  This was needlessly confrontational and I knew it. With Trevor and Trent second-guessing my skills before the negotiation even started, I felt like I was in a viper’s pit. One false move and the Femnosi employees would lose confidence in me. Plus, Martin really shouldn’t be leaving his group to chase tail - not without letting someone know first.

  Someone like me. The ostensible boss.

  Despite the fact that Martin needed to answer, all eyes were on me, the lone American in the room. I clenched my fist; maybe I’d overstepped my authority.

  “Maybe we could all go down to the dance floor,” offered a voice from beside me. Christina. She wrapped her arm around mine and tugged on it. “I mean, it’s kinda boring up here, right? I feel like I’m in a fish tank.”

  A few of them let out a nervous laugh. I tossed my drink back, taking the opportunity she’d provided to set things right.

  “Of course. Martin, Ella - we’ll see you down there.” The two new friends exchanged a look, then dashed out the door. The doorman gave them a once over and let them pass. I noticed Christina’s grip tighten on my arm when she espied the bouncer.

  “Everyone’s leaving, right?” She asked a whisper.

  “Good call.” Getting Trent and Trevor out on the main floor would get them out of my ear. They could still try to intercept me tomorrow before the meeting, but I intended on getting there early. By the time I was in the Inverness negotiating room their ‘suggestions’ would be too little too late.

  “I’ll see the four of you down there,” I said, in a voice that brooked no argument. Jenna and Amanda had no quarrels; they just obediently went to pick up Trent and Trevor’s coats, a subordinate gesture I didn’t like but had been told to expect in old-fashioned Femnos.

  “Perhaps we can discuss possible concessions on our way down, Harrow.” Trevor kept his eyes on me while he punched either arm through the coat Jenna held open.

  “That’d be lovely. Let’s save it for the main floor. Right now, I have to take a piss.”

  If you’re ever in Femnos, remember rule number 1: don’t discuss number 1 or number 2 in front of a Femnosi. The sheer horror on the faces of all my guests at the word ‘piss’ was worth the 14 hour flight over here.

  “Of course,” Trevor managed through gritted teeth.

  I made my way to the bathroom door.

  “Um, hurry back!” Said Christina. I glanced briefly over my shoulder to see her standing nervously between my employees.

  “Please.”

  She finally said it.

  I liked the way it sounded.

  Chapter 7

  CHRISTINA

  “Americans,” groused the tall man Trent, adjusting his jacket. “Let’s just go, Trevor. You did your best but he’s going to keep ducking you.”

  Trevor adjusted his glasses, staring at the bathroom door. “I bet he’d hide there all night if he could.”

  “One of you could hide behind the bar and surprise him when he comes out.”

  All four of the others turned to me when I spoke.

  “That’s… remarkably conniving,” said Trevor, staring wide-eyed at me.