Olivia’s POV
The alarm blared at exactly 6:00 AM. I woke with a start, montarily disoriented by the unfamiliar weight on my face. My hand flew to my cheek imdiately, and my fingers grazed the short, coarse stubble that Nikita had applied the night before.
"Holy shit," I whispered, the events of yesterday flooding back. "I actually did it."
I stumbled to the bathroom, quickly flipping on the light. The face that stared back at in the mirror was both strange and familiar. My eyebrows were thicker and straighter, my lips looked thinner now, my cheekbones had a subtle contouring that created the illusion of a more angular face, but my blue eyes remained intact.
Nikita had been a miracle worker. We’d spent four hours last night learning the act of being masculine. She had taught everything from how to bind my chest with the special compression garnt, to how to stand with my weight on my heels, and also how to lower my voice without straining my vocal cords.
I practiced my stance now, shoulders back, feet slightly apart. I looked at my new transformation. Oliver Hopton. That’s who I was today.
After a quick shower (carefully avoiding the waterproof adhesive areas of my transformation), I dressed in the outfit Nikita and I had selected. A charcoal gray suit, white shirt, burgundy tie. The padding in the jacket created broader shoulders, while the cut of the pants concealed my hips. I paired it with special shoes that added two inches to my height.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my leather ssenger bag containing my altered work resu - sa experience but different na and gender - and headed for the door.
"Ti to face the world," I muttered, my practiced deep voice sounding strange to my ears.
I stepped out of my bedroom, rolling my shoulders and walking with the confident stride Nikita had taught - less hip movent, more masculine steps, when I was imdiately greeted with a scream that made almost jump out of my suit.
"INTRUDER!" Kira shrieked, wielding her coffee mug like a weapon. She scrambled backward, reaching for her phone. "I’m calling 911!"
"Kira! It’s !" I blurted, my natural voice returning.
Her finger hovered over her phone screen, eyes narrowed in confusion. "Liv...?"
"Yes! Jesus, put the mug down before you brain with it."
Kira’s jaw dropped as she lowered the mug, staring at in disbelief. "What the actual fuck?" She circled slowly, taking in the suit, the hair, the subtle facial changes. "Is this... are you...?"
"It’s Oliver now," I said, falling back to the deep voice. "At least for work purposes."
"Oliver," she repeated, sounding dazed. She reached out and touched my face, then yanked her hand back. "That feels so real!"
"It’s high-quality adhesive. Nikita says it’ll last through the day as long as I don’t rub it too hard or sweat excessively." I checked my watch - a n’s tipiece that felt heavy on my wrist. "Look, I can’t be late for this interview. I’ll explain everything tonight."
"Interview? What interview? Olivia - I an, Oliver - what the hell is going on?"
I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, suddenly aware that even this simple action needed to be modified. n didn’t delicately select fruit; they grabbed things with purpose. "Wellington and Sons. They poached Alex from our firm, and I’m going after him."
"The top law firm? But they don’t hire..." Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. "Oh my god. You’re cross-dressing to get a job at the boys’ club law firm? Are you insane?"
"Probably," I admitted, biting into the apple with what I hoped was masculine nonchalance. "But I’m also determined."
"This is crazy even for you," Kira said, still gaping. "What about your job at Harry & Associates?"
"I called in sick today. If this works out, I’ll give notice." I headed for the door, then paused, suddenly uncertain. "How do I look? Really?"
Kira studied for a long mont, her expression shifting from shock to admiration. "Disturbingly convincing. If I didn’t know it was you..." She shook her head. "You’re out of your mind, but damn if you don’t make a handso man."
I couldn’t help but grin. "That’s exactly what I was going for."
First test: passed.
***************
The Wellington and Sons lobby looked intimidating as hell. It was all dark wood, marble floors, and oil paintings of stern-looking n who I assud were the original Wellingtons. I approached the reception desk, conscious of every step.
"Oliver Hopton," I told the receptionist, keeping my voice deep and low. "I have an interview with Mr. Cally at nine."
She smiled. "Of course, Mr. Hopton. Please have a seat. Mr. Cally will be with you shortly."
Wow... she just called Mr. Hopton without suspecting a thing. My heart fluttered at the small victory. I took a seat, careful to adopt the posture Nikita had drumd into - legs slightly apart, ankle resting on knee, taking up space in a way I never would have as Olivia.
Every minute that passed felt like an hour. I scanned the lobby nervously, terrified that Alex might appear and sohow see through my disguise. I almost laughed at the thought. He doesn’t even know who I am.
"Mr. Hopton?" A silver-haired man in his fifties approached, hand extended. "Edward Cally, Senior Partner. Thank you for coming in on such short notice."
I rose, rembering to lead with my shoulders rather than my hips, and shook his hand firmly. "The pleasure’s mine, sir. I appreciate the opportunity."
"Your resu is quite impressive," he said, leading toward the elevators. "Particularly your work on the Garland rger. That caught my attention imdiately."
Thank God I’d actually worked on that case at Harry & Associates, even if my contribution had been more behind-the-scenes than my modified resu suggested.
"It was a challenging case," I replied confidently. "But the outco was satisfying for all parties involved."
Mr. Cally nodded approvingly as we stepped into the elevator. "That’s exactly the kind of diplomacy we value here at Wellington and Sons. We’re known for our aggressive litigation, but the best settlents happen outside the courtroom, wouldn’t you agree?"
"Absolutely," I said, grateful for a question I could answer honestly. "Litigation should be the last resort, not the first instinct."
The elevator doors opened onto the 30th floor, revealing a hallway lined with offices. My heart rate doubled as I realized any of these could be Alex’s.
Mr. Cally ushered into a corner conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Two other n were already seated at the table.
"Oliver Hopton, this is Damian Wellington - current CEO - and Brad Renly. They’re both partners in this firm."
I shook their hands more vigorously than normal, then settled into a chair.
Damien Wellington, a young handso man of about thirty, was the first to speak up, "Mr. Hopton, tell us why you’re interested in leaving Harry & Associates for our firm."
I’d prepared for this. "Harry is an excellent firm, but I’ve reached a point in my career where I need more challenge and opportunity for growth. Wellington and Sons has a reputation for taking on the cases that have shaped corporate law. That’s the environnt I want to be part of."
The three n exchanged approving glances.
"And what would you say is your greatest strength as an attorney?" Renly asked.
The interview continued for forty-five minutes, each question more challenging than the last. But I gave it my best responses, having studied a little last night.
Finally, Mr. Cally leaned back, a satisfied expression on his face. "Well, Mr. Hopton, I must say I’m impressed. Your references check out, and your knowledge of corporate law is topnotch."
Relief flooded through . They’d called my references? I silently thanked Harley for agreeing to this insane sche and posing as my forr supervisor.
"There’s just one more person you should et before we make our decision," Damien Wellington said, pressing a button on the conference phone. "Patricia, could you ask Mr. Gregory to join us?"
My blood turned to ice. Alex? Now?
I hadn’t planned on eting him so soon, before I’d had a chance to establish myself at the firm. What if he recognized sohow? What if...
The door opened, and there he was. Alex Gregory, looking even more handso than I rembered. My heart did its usual flip at the sight of him, and I prayed the binding around my chest was hiding any visible reaction.
"Alex, this is Oliver Hopton," Mr. Cally introduced. "He’s interviewing for the junior associate position in corporate."
Alex extended his hand, and I forced myself to et his gaze directly as we shook. His eyes - those beautiful green eyes I’d spent countless hours daydreaming about - showed no recognition whatsoever.
"Nice to et you, Oliver," he said. "I just joined the firm myself, but I’ve heard good things about your work at Harry."
I swallowed hard. "Likewise."
Wellington smiled, "Actually, Alex, we’ve just decided to offer Mr. Hopton the position. But given your recent experience at Harry, we thought you might have so insights about how he could best transition to our firm."
Alex looked surprised but recovered quickly. "Of course. In fact, I’ve been ntioning to you that I could use so assistance with the gan’s case. If Oliver’s background is in corporate rgers, he might be the perfect fit."
Mr. Cally nodded. "An excellent suggestion. What do you think, Mr. Hopton? Would you be interested in working directly with Mr. Gregory as his associate on the gan’s rger?"
"Yes," I almost scread, but held myself, "I’d be honored."
"Good." Wellington nodded, "You’re hired. Report to work tomorrow."
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