Olivia’s POV
My weekend was a disaster! I had spent most of it, replaying what that fake Love Coach had said, and drowning my sorrows in ice cream, while watching romance movies that only made feel worse.
But by Monday morning, I’d had enough of wallowing.
"Today’s the day," I told my reflection as I applied my lipstick perfectly. "No more crushing from a distance."
I chose a nice beautiful outfit - a navy pencil skirt that hugged my curves, with a white blouse and my red heels that always gave an extra boost of confidence. If I was finally going to approach Alex Gregory, I needed all the confidence I could get.
What did that Dr. Heart know anyway? So so-called relationship punk who thinks he has the right to choose who I like. What a fake. He should go back to the relationship school he graduated from.
"Watch prove you wrong," I pointed to the mirror, pretending it was his annoying face.
The office was quite rowdy when I arrived. Small groups of people stood huddled together, whispering to each other.
Sothing was happening, and judging by the expressions on everyone’s faces, it wasn’t good news.
Harley intercepted before I could even reach my desk, her eyes wide with excitent.
"Have you heard?" she asked, gripping my arm.
"Heard what?" I set my coffee down, suddenly curious.
"It’s Alex," she said, lowering her voice. "Wellington and Sons poached him over the weekend. Offered him partnership track, corner office, the works. He’s clearing out his desk right now."
I felt a tight knot in my stomach as the color drained from my face. "What? No, that can’t be right. He loves it here. He’s been with Harry & Associates for years."
Harley raised an eyebrow. "Apparently not enough to turn down double his salary and an imdiate senior position."
I felt dizzy, the floor seeming to tilt beneath my feet. After thirteen months of gathering courage, planning the perfect mont, rehearsing what I would say - he was leaving? Today?
"Where is he now?" I asked, my voice still filled with shock.
"Conference room B. HR is doing his exit paperwork." Harley studied my face with concern. "Liv, don’t tell you’re actually going to..."
But I was already moving, walking towards the conference room. A part of my brain scread that this was a terrible idea, that I should let him go, that this was the universe telling Dr. Heart was right.
I silenced that voice. If Alex was leaving today, then today was my only chance.
Through the glass walls of Conference Room B, I saw Alex seated at the table, signing docunts while Jennifer from HR explained sothing to him. He nodded occasionally, his expression unreadable. Even now, in the midst of leaving, he looked perfectly composed - and he didn’t even have to try.
I hesitated outside the door, suddenly aware that I had no plan. What was I going to do? Burst in and declare my feelings in front of HR? Ask for his number while he’s signing termination paperwork?
As I stood there, paralyzed, Alex looked up, and our eyes t for the first ti since I joined the company. His brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to place who I was.
Then Jennifer slid another docunt toward him, breaking the contact. He returned his attention to the paperwork, and just like that, I was invisible again.
The air left my lungs in a painful rush, and Dr. Heart’s voice echoed in my head: "You’ve built him up into sothing like a god."
I hated that the arrogant "love doctor" might have been right about anything.
I turned away from Conference Room B, feeling empty and hollow. Back at my desk, I slumped into my chair, watching from a distance as Alex erged from the conference room, box in hand. Several colleagues surrounded him, shaking his hand, wishing him well. He smiled beautifully, accepting their good wishes with a charm that had captivated for months.
He stepped into the elevator without once looking in my direction.
"So much for your big mont," Harley said, appearing beside my desk with a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, honey."
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of disappointnt. "Where did you say he’s going? Wellington and Sons?"
"Yep. One of the top law firms in New York. They rarely hire outside their network, so it’s quite a big deal for him." Harley leaned against my desk. "Why? Planning to follow him there?"
She’d ant it as a joke, but sothing clicked in my brain. I opened my laptop and typed "Wellington and Sons" into the search bar.
"Liv, I was kidding," Harley said, peering over my shoulder as the firm’s website loaded.
"I know, I’m just curious," I murmured, scanning the page. Prestigious law firm... century of excellence... selective clientele... I clicked through to their "Our Team" page and my heart sank.
Row after row of distinguished-looking n in expensive suits stared back at . Not a single woman among them.
"Are you seeing this?" I asked, scrolling down the page. "It’s like a boys’ club from the 1950s."
Harley whistled low. "Wow. That’s... archaic. And probably illegal? Though I bet they have so loophole that makes it technically not discrimination."
I closed the browser, feeling defeated all over again. Not only had Alex left before I could even speak to him, but he’d gone sowhere I couldn’t follow.
The rest of the day dragged by slowly, and by evening, I was emotionally exhausted but still too restless to go straight ho. I decided to take so work with and find a quiet café where I could distract myself with work.
I was walking by central park, lost in thoughts of what could have been, if I’d just found a little courage months ago, when a storefront caught my eye. Or rather, the sign in its window:
"EXPLORE YOUR INNER ESSENCE: TOTAL TRANSFORMATION STUDIO"
Below this was a smaller tagline: "Professional cross-dressing, gender expression, and presentation services for all identities."
I stopped in my tracks, staring at the mannequins in the window - one dressed in a n’s suit, the other in an evening gown. Both had this weird features that made it impossible to tell if they were male or female underneath.
A wild, completely insane idea began to take shape in my mind.
Wellington and Sons didn’t hire won. But what if I wasn’t applying as a woman?
I shook my head, trying to dismiss the thought. It was ridiculous. Desperate. Probably illegal.
But I couldn’t stop staring at that mannequin in the suit.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. A small bell rang, announcing my presence.
The boutique was decorated with comfy cushions and private dressing rooms separated. In the display cases were arrays of accessories - from cufflinks to false eyelashes to what appeared to be extrely realistic prosthetics.
"Welco to Essence," a warm voice greeted . A tall person with elegant features and a stylish hair approached. I couldn’t imdiately tell their gender, which I supposed was part of their expertise. "I’m Nikita. How can I help you today?"
I opened my mouth, still not entirely sure what I was doing there. "I... um... I need to look like a man. A convincing man.
Reviews
All reviews (0)