I got off the elevator in the hotel lobby after taking my things upstairs. I wanted nothing more than to relax and have a drink after driving all afternoon to get to this damned conference. I had my heels off in the car, so my feet were still willing to stay up for a bit. I figured a drink, a light supper, maybe listen to the little ensemble they had playing for the traveling salesmen and the lounge lizards, and I’d be in heaven until I had to get up and listen to drivel while know it alls droned on about awareness beyond one’s self. I had to fill squares for my next promotion, after all.

I headed for the bar to get my refreshment period started, hoping to read a bit on my phone and just relax when I looked down at the end of the bar. You know, down by the lift up gate where the waitresses went in and out.

There was this girl.

I ordered a double Tanqueray Tom Collins, downed it, ordered another, and when the young lady bartender, her nametag said ‘Lilly’, handed it to me, I thanked her then approached the waif at the end of the bar. She was the cutest little thing. Her hair was multicolored, reddish on top and more blonde as it went down just below her shoulders, styled in cute bangs and one of those ‘scene look’ hair dos. She was wearing a simple black tank top and a tight little gray mini skirt, with off black hose and gray stiletto sandals.

It was plainly obvious she’d been crying. I went for broke, feeling if I could make her smile, maybe I could distract myself as well.

“Excuse me for being so bold, but you’re awfully pretty and dressed way too nicely to be sitting here by yourself crying. Any reason for that I might be able to help with?”

“Probably not. I’m not what I seem. This isn’t one of those say something nice and everything is better situations.”

“Oh. My mistake. And here, I thought you were a pretty girl crying into an empty glass and I thought I could say you were pretty and buy you a drink. You are very pretty, but I’m sure you already know that.”

She looked at me, almost, but not quite smiling. “Oh, well, thank you. You really thought that?”

“I certainly did. I’m staying upstairs, came down for a drink, and saw a pretty girl crying. I don’t like things like that. That doesn’t make me happy. Pretty girls should be smiling. Can you smile for me?” She did, but just barely. Still, it was a smile. She was a cutie.

She spoke with the most gentle, serene voice. Maybe this is the voice they describe as the voice of an angel. Soft and airy. “I think of myself as one and I’ve been working on it since I was eight years old, but I’m not completely there yet. I don’t know if I want to go there. Only one thing left to do, to be a girl, a woman, and I just don’t know if I want to do that.”

“You wanna talk? This sounds pretty heavy.”

“Yes, actually, I do want to talk, and by the sound of your questions, you want to listen. Buy me a drink?”

“Tom Collins OK?” The girl nodded. “Lilly, can you bring me two more of those things. Make them singles this time, dear.”

The young lady behind the bar nodded and said, “Coming right up.”

And that’s how it started. Toni had just turned eighteen, after years and years of therapy and help from her father transitioning to womanhood. She knew quite young, as did her father, that she would never be a boy. She wasn’t born a boy, she didn’t act like a boy, and she didn’t want to be a boy. She was a girl, through and through. Her father had a friend in the medical business, a psychiatrist that met with them and concurred. He got Anthony, now Toni, started in a program with the right people, doctors, teachers, the whole shebang, to help her be a girl. Her dream.

Then, just recently, her father succumbed to a heart attack. She lost him six months ago, and her life has been hell with her mother ever since. An endless string of boyfriends and lovers, in and out of the house, spending every dime her father left them on everything except Toni’s medications and wellbeing. It seems mom had fallen prey to the madness that grief often brings.

She never agreed with Toni’s transition. She thought it was a weakness and that Toni was just a gay little boy with no friends and wanted to draw attention to himself. I could see from our talk that evening that Mom couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“So, what exactly are you doing at a bar with a fake ID, which you must have since you’re drinking, and a glass full of tears on the rocks?”

“She hasn’t asked for one. I don’t have a fake ID. I wish I did.”

“Nice to know. Maybe she just feels for you. Now, why are you here, exactly?”

“Well, I’ve been staying with friends, which only works for a little while, and now I need some money and I thought I’d see if I couldn’t ... I thought I’d try to sell myself for a little cash?”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“It isn’t. Not at all. No one wants a tranny with a little tiny dick. They either want a real live woman or a she-male with a horse cock.”

“I guess you can call me ‘No One’ then, honey.” That time, she smiled. A real smile. “Will you have dinner with me? We can eat here at the bar if you’ll feel safer.”

“That sounds nice. This will be fine, but it’s not a safety thing. If you want a table, or maybe a booth, maybe we should do that.”

“OK, a booth it is. There is a quiet one over there and it looks empty.” I looked at Lilly and pointed to the booth asking if it was OK. She told us ‘yes’, so I helped the girl off the stool and held her hand as we walked over then I handed her into the bench of the booth. I went back for our drinks, set hers in front of her, then sat myself down.

“Now, where were we?”

“Talking about my problems, an endless pit of them. Why would you reach out to me, Miss?”

“Honestly? You’re very pretty. Very cute, too, I might add, and I’m lonely. Not exactly the most honorable reasons, but I enjoy honesty from others, so I practice it. Is that a problem? Do you need me to produce a more noble reason to talk to you?” I smiled at her. “Do you need some empirical evidence that I’m not trying to get to your money, or your virtue? Do you want to hear that I saw something written in the stars and it pointed in here to the stool you were sitting on? Nope. Pure coincidence. I came in for a drink and found a crying little girl and decided to talk to her because she looks like she needs someone to talk to, and she is NOT hard to look at. Honesty. The only way to fly.”

“No. Honesty is cool. I don’t need some spiel. How could you possibly be lonely, though? You’re young, gorgeous, and obviously not broke, unless you’re in debt for buying that outfit. You look like a million bucks in it.”

“This old thing?” I had to laugh. That must be the most cliché of all possible responses. “Thank you. No, it’s paid for and I do OK. I actually had someone for quite a while. They decided they needed less excitement in their lives and met a banker. He, I guess, was more sedate than I, so she fell for his charms. He may have been more sedate, but I was more faithful. She has since come to her senses, but I won’t ever trust her, so I told her to move along and wished her well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. May I say something?”

“Please do. I’ve been talking too much.”

“Thank you. Thank you for talking to me. I was scared shitless of being raped and killed tonight. It may still happen tomorrow, but if you feed me, and I think you offered, I’ll make it one more day.”

“How amazingly optimistic. You are certainly a qualifier for clinical depression poster child of the year. Not a good thing, by the way. Yes, I would like you to join me and I’ll be more than happy to feed you. Let’s share names, then I’d like to know more about you. I have an idea, and if it works out, we both may benefit from it. I’m Charla Reynolds. My real name is Charlene, but it was also my Nana’s name, so everyone called me Charla and it stuck.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Charla. My name is Antoinette Baxter. Toni with an ‘i’ for short.”

“Could I presume, then, Toni with an ‘i’, that you were born as Anthony?”

“Good guess. Anthony Marion. I think I heard my dad say that my grandfather was a huge John Wayne fan. I just shortened it to Marie. What’s your middle name, if you have one? I understand some people don’t.”

“I do. It’s Cecilia. Charlene Cecilia Reynolds. CCR. I catch some heat for that with old people that remember ‘Bad Moon Rising’, and other classic rock jingles by the group.” I finally got Toni to giggle. So sweet. “OK, Toni, we have names. Tell me about your education, your schooling.”

“I just graduated last month. Top five percent. Gold Cord. Three weeks now, since this is the middle of June. I have a few credits, fifteen or so, toward college in the state system through some advanced courses. College is out of my reach now, since my acceptance letters all required Dad to pay most of the tuition, and that money is gone. I don’t know what my mother did with it, but she says my ‘college money is down the drain, you’re an adult, now go deal with it.’ She’s not my most ardent admirer. I think that was my father, and, as I told you, he’s dead.” She lost another tear.

“Stop dwelling on that just for a minute, if you will. You don’t really have a place to live?” She shook her head. “Let’s talk for a bit.” Lilly came over and we ordered. She ordered a baked chicken thing, with asparagus, so I had to believe she was maturing. A lot of kids that age would have asked for a hamburger and fries. “OK, next, what WERE your plans for school?”

“I wanted a degree in business and office management.”

“You mean to be like an actual office manager or a personal or administrative assistant? That kind of thing?”

“Exactly that thing. Being an assistant to an executive would be my ideal position. Sometimes they travel and do exciting projects, research and work like that. I read a lot about the field and decided that would be my dream job. I could be an office manager, too, it’s just that the travel and interesting duties sound pretty nice, too.”

“You said earlier that no one wanted you. Tell me how you came to know that.”

She laughed. “This evening, I had exactly two men approach me. One seemed a bit slimy and asked me if I was looking for a date. I told him yes, I was, but that I was not what I seem, if he knew what I meant. He said he did and asked how big I was. I held my pinky straight up. I told him I wasn’t big at all, and as a matter of fact, just the opposite. He said, ‘Good luck with that,” bought me a drink and headed out for bigger pastures. The next guy, a pudgy little pervert looking turdball, thought I really was a girl. He told me he was looking for some very young bald pussy, and I couldn’t provide it. He didn’t even buy me a drink. He was rude, too, calling me a gay little sissyboy and told me to go home to my ‘buck’. I guarantee, I am no sissyboy. I am gay, though, I’m pretty sure. I think I’m a girl and I don’t want anything to do with any more men. I just don’t think I’m up for it. Not if those two are representing the species.”

“You’ve had a rough night, girlfriend. I’m going to smooth it out for you a bit, if you like. Sight unseen, just hearing your voice and listening to your story, I’m going to try to help you if you’ll accept it.”

“Wow. Just because I was crying, and you think I’m pretty, or cute?”

“Don’t forget the part about me being lonely. That’s pretty important, too.” She heard a thirty-year-old woman giggle. We giggle, too, you know.

Our food came and she ate with impeccable manners. Toni was no street urchin. She came from a good household, and at one time, it seems, she was loved, and raised quite well. It’s a shame her mother fell off the deep end, if in fact that’s what happened, but if this worked the way I wanted to, I’d probably find out. Not much of a chance she could come to work for me without me coming across her people someday or another.

“Do you want any dessert, Toni? I do, but I don’t want a lot. Would you split something with me?”

“Anything would be fine. I’m not fond of coconut, but if you go there, I will survive, as the song says.” She smiled at me. “Really, Charla, anything would be more than fine. I could use a bite or two, but not much more. That chicken was good, and I finished it. I’m not big enough to eat that much.”

“I noticed. What, five one, five two?”

“Five-two, and one-ten, if you must know. I turned eighteen in April. I have a driver’s license, a passport, and a couple of business cards for my doctors. My documents all show I’m a girl, by the way. It was legally changed when I had just turned sixteen. I’m serious, Charla, my father did everything he could to help me realize my dream. Sometimes I think maybe he was a little like me inside, and just wanted to live his life through me.”

“Vicariously.”

“What?”

“That’s the term for living your life by watching someone else live theirs and pretending it’s you. Your father may have been living his life vicariously, through you. Not a bad thing, really, unless he pressured you or something.”

“No! Oh, God, no. My father was always my biggest supporter. Always a perfect gentleman, too. Always. I promise. My mother’s boyfriends, not so much, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“Fine.” Lilly approached. “Lilly, could you get us a ‘death by chocolate’ and put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top in case we change our minds and want to live?” I shared a smile with Lilly. She looked at Toni, who was rolling her eyes at Lilly indicating she was with a corny person. The kid had a dry sense of humor, too, evidently.

“You ready to talk turkey, girlfriend?”

“About?”

“About me helping you, you helping yourself, and me not being so lonely for a while.”

“Define not being so lonely.”

“This coming from a girl that just tried to sell herself to a slimeball and pervert? OK. I would like to get to know you. If you like me, you like me. If I like you, I like you. We may mix like oil and water. No chemistry at all. I don’t think that’s going to happen. I think if we spend the night together, you go buy yourself some clothes tomorrow, on my dime, then go home with me in a couple of days, we’ll mesh. I have these seminars I have to attend, we’ll spend time at lunch, after the meetings, at night, and on the way home. We’ll bond. I think we have something. If we didn’t have at least some kind of simpatico, this discussion wouldn’t be going quite as easy as it is.

“Was that the first time you tried hooking?” She nodded. “It was the last. Promise me that, regardless of what happens between us. I’ll do everything I can, but a little trap like you is going to get killed on the street, if you’re lucky. Being sold into a sex slave ring would be worse. Trust me on that.”

“Trap?”

“Yeah, trap. You need to do some research about your situation, little girl. Become self-aware. You are a trap. A cuter than all get out little girl in a little boy’s ... Come to think of it, you said one more thing. What exactly DO you have, and what exactly DON’T you have?”

“Well, here it goes. THE discussion. Charla, I really am a girl that was born in a boy’s body. I’ve been in a program since I was eight, really. I was taking blockers from the time I was ten until I was twelve, then hormones, and finally, I had an orchiectomy at fourteen. Dad spent every dime he had to make sure I was well taken care of. It wasn’t in this country; in case you’re wondering. We had what people call a medical vacation, if people are coming here for it. I’ve had small breasts since I was eleven, or so, but they’re fuller now. I wear a 30B, but they’re natural. All me. No fillers, no juice. Just hormones and lots of love.”

“Cool. OK, so all you have left is,” I held up my pinky. She put her hand on it, wrapped her fingers around it, and squeezed.

“Yep. That’s it. Charla, you aren’t going to use me then throw me away are you?”

“No, honey. If I use you, I’ll not be throwing you away. Let’s take it one step at a time, though, OK? First, I need to know if we get along. Then we can start on the other stuff.”

“Two for the road, Lilly? I’ll come over there and sign for them.” We finished the chocolate and the ice cream, which was really extravagantly delicious, then I signed for the meal, left Lilly a twenty, and we headed over toward the bar. “Toni, do you have any things? Belongings?”

“I have some stuff at a good friend’s. I can pick it up later, but her Mom doesn’t want me staying there anymore. My mom called her and told her I was a boy, and Laci’s mom doesn’t want her daughter sleeping with a boy in her room, or her house, for that matter, quite yet. Riiiight. Like Laci would want anything to do with a little girl like me. She’s in love with some big football player guy over at the university. Of course, her mother knows nothing about the activity those two are getting into, but that is none of my beeswax.” She giggled. Good. The giggles are taking over from the tears. “His thing is as big as my arm. Sheesh. Lacy says it feels wonderful, though.” Another giggle.

“So, you do know about the birdswax and the beeswax?” I smiled at her.

She giggled cutely again. “Oh, Jesus, yes. I’ve seen enough to burn my eyes out. I even walked in on my mother and one of her boyfriends. Ackkk. I wasn’t snooping, Charla, they were in the damned living room. He was screwing my mother on the couch, both naked and sweaty, and asked me to join them. Yuckk. Oh, well, I don’t live there anymore.”

“I hope I meet your mother someday, girlfriend. I really do.” I squeezed her hand, then signed the bar tab as well. “Lilly, thank you. See you tomorrow night if you’re working.” She indicated that she was. I took Toni’s hand and we walked out together. I looked at her outfit. Cute. Sexy. Not a lot different than mine. I was dressed a bit casual, but I never wore anything that would be considered conservative. I was, personally, a very conservative person, but my attire was generally on the provocative side, if I could swing it. Here, it was a slam dunk. I was around lounge lizards. They love that stuff. I was just too busy that night for them to approach me. I guess I enjoy teasing them. I’m a bad, bad girl.

We hit the elevator, then the hallway, and I could have sworn I felt my little charge shiver.

“Doll, the last thing you need to worry about right now is going through that door. You played a dangerous game this evening, and you got out alive. Trust me, unless this building blows up, you’ll see the sunrise in the morning, and be smiling when it happens.”

“Sorry. I’m just...”

“Unsure of the future. Hang with me, kiddo. We’re going to take on the world. You’ll love it ... I hope.”

“OK, Charla, but as silly as this sounds, standing in the room of an absolute stranger that could kill me, eat me, and dispose of the bones, with no one being the wiser, I don’t want to be hurt again. I really think I’ve had about all the pain and crap I can stand.”

“I know, baby. I know.” I felt for her right then. Really, my heart reached out for her, ached for her. “I promise not to hurt you. I can’t prove that to you except over time, but give me a chance, and you’ll never say my name in vain.” She nodded and smiled.

“Can I use the bathroom?”

“God, yes. All other options would be unacceptable, save, maybe, the lanai, but even that would be pretty tacky.” Good. I got her giggling again. While she was in the water closet, I knocked on the door, told her to shower, and left some things I thought she could wear as night clothes. It was an old t-shirt and shorts I wear to lounge around in. When she came out, looking cute as a button, I’d say they were a success. She was smiling. Wet hair, clean face, cherubic smile, and long ass legs. She was a darling. And she had gorgeous long legs for such a petite little pixie.

“Thank you, Charla. Are you really going to send me shopping tomorrow?”

“Yes, with my car and my credit card, if you can believe that. I ask that you leave your passport with me. You’ll need your driver’s license, because you’ll be driving, but also because I’ll call the credit card company, and they’ll check up on you. I want you to get a couple of nice cocktail dresses, maybe a sundress or two, a couple of skirts, maybe some shorts, some blouses, a few pairs of nice high heels to go with all of those, a pair of nice sandals, and some trainers. I also want you to buy some lingerie you think I might like, and I want you to remember that real ladies wear stockings with dresses and pantyhose with shorts. They always wear high heels unless hiking or on the beach. You need to be a real lady if you are going to hang out with real ladies. Got it?”

She nodded. “And all I have to do is make you happy?”

“No, no, no, no, no. All you have to do is work your ass off. If making me happy is a chore for you, we’re not going to work. If it’s something you have to work at, we’re not doing it right. That part should not be a ‘have to do’, but instead, a ‘it happened, ain’t that cool’ type of thing.”

“Oh. I think I understand. Charla, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, little one, but save that until you know what you’re getting into. My job isn’t easy, and yours isn’t going to be, either. People don’t get paid a lot for doing easy jobs. They get paid a lot for doing difficult ones, and, oh yeah, going to stupid seminars. I love you, you love me,” I started singing. “Freaking Barney. Seems the world was still turning purple.” I giggled again to get her off the serious train.

“Put the TV on Fox News. I’ll be out in a few minutes then we can ... We can try to sleep. I need to be up at six-thirty to go to a seminar at eight-thirty. We’re doing breakfast before you go shopping. Most important meal of the day. Don’t forget that.” Yes, I was tipsy. No, I wasn’t too tipsy. I took a shower, thinking about what she looked like while she was taking hers, then did my hair up, brushed my teeth, put on a chemise that just barely covered my butt, and went out to pretend I wasn’t hornier than a housewife with two Mark Harmon posters over her bed.

She was lying in bed, her head on two pillows, covers up to her chest, just watching the second time Tucker played that night. Damn. Eleven? Really? Time flies when you’re having fun. I climbed into bed, set the alarm on my phone, then laid down and reached for her hand.

“Toni, I’m not the bad guy here, but please understand something, as well. I have ulterior motives. Think about that, and about what you almost did. Then think about what would happen if you liked someone enough to do that, but not for money. Just think about all those things, then we’ll talk tomorrow. Most probably after you come back from shopping, not at breakfast, but later. We’ll talk.”

She nodded, leaned over and kissed me on the lips. That was all. Just that little kiss, but it lit a fire under my bottom. There WAS something here. The lights were off, the timer set for the TV to go off by itself, and I remember hearing a purr, just before Tucker gave up the ghost, the screen went dark, and I followed her to sleep.

“Charla. It’s six-twenty-nine. Good morning.”

She was over me, looking down, trying, I think, for a humorous good morning greeting. She failed, miserably. I grabbed her hair, pulled her down, and kissed her. Messily. Morning breath. In my case. Mint and rainbows in hers.

“I thought about some stuff this morning, Charla. We’ll talk later, but, if you trust me with your money, even though you’re holding my passport, you must feel something. I’m going to trust my instincts, which have not been very worthy of trusting since...” She shook her head in disgust of some type. “In any case, whatever you are proposing, I am accepting. You could have given me a hundred bucks last night and had your way with me, but instead, you are trying to make my life better so you can weasel your way into it.” She giggled. “I accept.”

“I’m not a weasel, however, I have been called a shrew. We need to get ready and go eat so I can go be bored to death, but Toni, I want to try to snuggle my way into your life, not weasel my way into it. Please look at it like that, OK?”

She nodded. “My humor sucks.”

“Most peoples’ do. Don’t take anything too seriously and we’ll get along fine. Except work. That’s some serious stuff. And golf. That’s REALLY serious shit. We’ll be fine, doll, we’ll be fine.”

We had breakfast that morning, enjoyably, while I noticed that it felt that we’d been eating together for months, or years, not hours. She even wiped a pancake crumb from my lip. I was stunned. No, she’ll never know that. She had either been hit by the same bug I had, or she was the best actress and the biggest gold digger I had ever met. No, she was too naïve. No way. I handed her my keys and my credit card, an American Express card, then as she sashayed out the door in her little outfit, with a pair of my clean panties on, I called the credit card company and told them she’d be using it and not to worry about how much it was. If she spent four or five thousand dollars doing what I told her to do, I wouldn’t be surprised. No problems.

Boring. Boring, boring, boring. I do not need to be told how to treat people that are amusing themselves with other peoples’ feelings. Easy one. Fire the pieces of shit. Another square to fill as I work my way up and through my father’s company. I chose personnel, instead of operations. My brother and I were supposed to meet at the top. He chose operations. I was better with people, I thought, than I was with making things and doing things. I hoped I was right.

Truth is, and I looked it up during the session, I was allowed a personal assistant, or an administrative assistant, over and above the secretary in the office. Now I understood. Last year, I didn’t. There were a lot of things I could have Toni doing for me that the others didn’t want to do. Not that they wouldn’t, but they’d rather have what I was getting ready to set up. I wouldn’t lie, but I wouldn’t advertise the fact that she was not necessarily any more educated than they were, nor would I advertise that her car was going to be parked next to mine, in my garage at night. No, I wouldn’t advertise it, but if they found out, what the hell. I’m not breaking any laws, and only a few company policies that only apply to people that are not the owner’s daughter, and or niece, depending on how Daddy and Uncle Carl, his brother, work things out.

My mind was in turmoil about all of those subjects as I listened to the WAH WAH WAH of the speakers, droning on about how to handle situations of inequality. Whatever. Document and separate. The only way to fly. There were at least ten people, better qualified, looking for work, if anyone wanted to test me on that.

Finally, the afternoon break came, and while I was sneaking a Mountain Dew and some finger sandwiches, mmmm, egg salad, a cute girl with red and blonde hair caught my eye. She was leaning in the door of the main hall where the snack table was set up. I waved her in.

“Eat. Daddy paid a bundle for it, and I can’t eat my share.” She picked up a ham and cracker thing, ate it with the bearing of a royal, then followed with one of the egg salad sandwiches.

“I’m coming back with you next time for more. You maybe have to do this every year, by chance? These are good. Maybe I’ll just make them for us at home and save the misery I see in your eyes.” She had the audacity to giggle. Good. I’ll keep her. Maybe. “I found what you wanted me to have, I think. I hit Macy’s, Niemann Marcus, and Sak’s, but mostly, Penney’s, Ross, and Marshall’s had what I needed. The one dress from Niemann and the one other one from Sak’s, though, I couldn’t pass up. They are so you, but in my size, thank God. If you don’t love them, I’ll return them and jump off the roof. They have Charla written all over them. Oh, and the shoes ... Oh, my God, Charla, DSW was having a sale. I found a pair of blue metallic sandals, then at Famous, I found some natural leather ones that will literally go with anything. Penney’s had some skirts, though, and a pair of black 9 West pumps so comfortable I could hike in them, I swear...”

“STOP! Toni, are you OK?”

“Yes, why?”

“You have been talking for forty-five seconds and haven’t taken a breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Better. How was our first day with you being my PA?”

“PA?”

“Personal Assistant.”

“Oh. Good. Very good. Wonderful day. Do I need to check your calendar or anything?”

“No. Don’t bother. Two more hours of drivel, then I’m going to find my personal assistant and we’re going to get shitfaced. Blasted. Drunk drunk. And after I go back in for two more hours, I still have another whole day of this.”

“Cool. I can give you a drunken fashion show. If I fall, catch me? You did say lingerie, correct?” She giggled, kissed my cheek and ran out, waving over her shoulder.

Tart. She was growing on me. Every time I thought of her, every time I saw her. She was definitely growing on me.

Finally, five-fifteen rolled around, and the presenters had a novel idea. Let the poor folks out before they died of boredom.

My PA was waiting for me outside the room with a Tanqueray Tom Collins, a warm wet cloth, and a smile.