by Dawning, Dee
Amber leaned back. "That's not our problem."
"It is if Ginger and Brad don't want their respective lawsuits to go for naught."
Ginger's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Your lawsuits could be the proverbial straw that breaks Bayside Securities' back. They are afraid that in addition to legal costs they could face huge multi-million dollar awards by a jury. If that happens, they would be forced to file bankruptcy and you'd be lucky to collect pennies on the dollar."
"That's terrible, "Amber whimpered, "Where's the good news Brad said you have?"
"There is good news. At least in my opinion, it's good. You and your company, are in a position to take advantage of Bayside's poor situation. While Bayside's fortunes have diminished, Bayview's have soared and don't think their board haven't noticed."
Bella paused, apparently thinking of what to say, so I urged, "Go on."
"Bayside is proposing a merger."
I rose halfway out of my seat. "Wha-at!" I exclaimed, "That would like a mouse swallowing a cat."
"Yes it would, but listen to their reasoning. They look upon your company as an ideal investment bank. And they look upon your management team as the best in the business. A wunderkind if you will. They see you three as the cavalry coming to their rescue."
Ginger gulped. I did too. "They want us to run Bayside?"
"Yes, and Bayview, they want you to run the combined company."
~ * * ~
For a full week Bella and I negotiated with the Bayside attorneys until we hammered out a deal that was acceptable.
The new company would be known as Bayshore Capital. I was to be Chief Executive Officer at an annual salary of seven million, plus bonuses. I also had stock options worth another twenty million. Not bad for a girl who couldn't even get a job as a trader and was a courtesan as little as five months ago.
Ginger was tapped as the new company's President at an annual salary of six million and sixteen million in stock options.
Amber received the title Vice-President in charge of Public Relations and Publicity at an annual salary of four million and for her first assignment Bayside's attorneys suggested she arrange for a spectacular gala with hundreds of V.I.P. guests to announce the new company. Amber was thrilled and as a sidebar she planned to announce the engagement of the Bayshore CEO with Bayshore's President and the engagement of Bayshore's Vice-President in charge of Public Relations and Publicity with Bayview division of Bayshore's Managing Vice-President—Lewis Sinclair."
~ * * ~
After a Herculean effort on Amber's part, the gala was held—when else—on New Years Eve! Two days hence, on the following workday, Bayside—soon to be renamed to Bayshore—stock rose a whooping fifteen percent. By all accounts, 'The Gala' as it came to be known was the social event of the decade and when Amber's publicity department announced that planning for this year's 'Gala' had begun, Bayside stock rose another ten percent and a hundred new investors signed up. We'd barely settled into our new positions and with the increased stock price our combined net worth had increased over twelve million.
Bella left her law firm to head Bayshore's revamped legal department. It was she that suggested as the heads of the nineth largest financial investment institution in the country, we live in a place worthy of our lofty, new, exalted positions. Therefore, the three girlfriends went house hunting.
Ginger and Amber wanted to continue living together, at least until we all married, so after viewing a dozen or so estates, they settled a twenty room mansion, in a hamlet of Hempstead, on five wooded acres.
I have to admit, the minute Ginger drove me though the gates, to get my approval, I fell in love. What could be better than living in a Camelot like setting with, in my opinion, my beautiful, Guinevere like, soon to be wife?
Chapter Twenty-seven
The Winter Solstice and then Christmas and the New Year along with 'The Gala' had passed. Brad and I were permanently and irrevocably what we'd changed into, six months previous. Brad and I had two things in common. We were both transgender. Not born of science and medicine, but born of…of…what? Mystery and Magic? That's as good a guess as any. The second thing we had in common is we were madly in love. Perhaps our unlikely sex change provided some spark, maybe even the impetus that allowed us to fall in love—something that'd eluded us in our early young adult years.
With the big merger/engagement bash behind us, I wasn't looking forward to a big wedding. Far from it. I was sick of attention. Since my picture appeared on the cover of Fortune and several other magazines I'd become a celebrity—no—more like a star. Of course the press dug up my past life as a courtesan. To a lesser extent, Amber too, but instead of hurting our popularity, inexplicably the aura of our colored past contrasting with our rise to power only added to our almost mystic image and our popularity soared.
As one publication put it, "There is an aura mystique about Ginger Allen and Amber Lane. They have risen from a life of wanton debauchery in the slime pit of civilization to become true role models and pillars of society.
Of course our forty-third floor Manhattan condo wasn't exactly a slime pit and our profession wasn't even close to a Roman Orgy. Then as now, the original Ginger and Amber were businesswomen. They provided a service and were paid handsomely.
Also, after the modeling drought, we'd gone though, the world of modeling had suddenly discovered us. We were now the most sought after models in the country. We both could have worked ten times what our busy schedule allowed and the fact that our busy schedules precluded us from keeping up with demand; it only boosted our demand and hourly rate. When it rained it poured and we were getting wetter by the minute.
Having moved to the Hempsteads, we now commuted to our offices via limousine.
After reflecting upon my recent evolving views on our upcoming marriage, sitting in the back of our limousine, on the way t0 work one morning, I broached the subject. "Hon, I've been thinking."
"About what?"
"About our wedding."
Brad stiffened. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"
I snickered, "No, an alien invasion couldn't keep me from becoming Mrs. Brad Fairchild. It's the where and when that troubles me." I set my palm on his knee. "Darling, we have become so public."
Brad chuckled. "Yes, especially you, Miss magazine cover model."
"Does that bother you?"
He laughed. "Last time you asked me that you were giving a bj every two or three hours."
I frowned. "Baby, I'm serious."
"Sorry. What's your point?"
"Everywhere we go, reporters and paparazzi follow and fans go gaga. Unless we're locked in our castle, we have no privacy."
"That's the reality of being attractive and successful."
I nodded. "Yes, I know and I can handle that, but our wedding is personal. I'm not ready to have our wedding be a major news event, like a royalty-less royal wedding."
"What are you suggesting?"
"That we have a small, private wedding at our home with our family and closest friends. Then we quietly slip away to Paris or Rome on one of the corporate jets and have a wonderful private honeymoon where we spend half our time in bed."
"I like that idea. I'm beginning to feel overwhelmed by our sudden fame so I can imagine how you feel."
"So can we do it?"
"Why not? If in a few years, if we regret it, we can remarry with a royal wedding like ceremony."
It didn't surprise me that Amber didn't like my plan. After all she was a publicity wiz. Nonetheless, she agreed to coordinate our private wedding at what Brad likes to call our Camelot. She, of course would be my Maid of Honor and Lew was more than willing to be Brad's Best Man.
Despite Amber's objections, I insisted that the media be left uninformed and the guest list not exceed fifty. "All right. Have it your way, but when Lew and I get married, you'll wish you'd done it my way."
"Maybe, and if I in a year or two, I decide to do it your way, I'll tur
n you loose."
Amber grinned. "You have a deal." She held her hand out and we shook. "Now, let's see how grand we can make your private, fifty-guest wedding ceremony."
Amber may have grumbled, but she tore into the project as if she was to plan a royal wedding. In fact, I had a ball going to various places with her. Places like Angelique's Bridal where we selected the gown and accessories I would wear. I would have liked to have worn white, but since white signified purity and by then even my fitness coach knew I had a checkered past, we prudently chose a white and very light pink Vera Wang original with a six foot train. "This is it," I exclaimed as I turned to the sales clerk, "I'd like to try this on. May I?"
"Of course. It may be a little large. Few women have figures such as yours, but we can adjust it." She grasped the elegant gown and hitched her head to our right. "Come. The dressing rooms are over there."
As I stepped out and modeled the splendid garment, I noticed we had attracted a small audience of eight or nine interested women. Some clapped, others nodded and said, "Perfect," or Dazzling."
Melissa, the clerk, who of course stood to make a commission, said, "I've never seen a lovelier bride."
What she said and what the bystanders had said was nice, but it was Amber's tasteful opinion that I wanted to hear. I glanced at her and it was as if she read my mind. "Melissa is right, I've never seen a lovelier bride. You make me wish I was getting married."
I cocked my head. "Well?"
"Oh, I'll be there right behind you, but I'm going to publicize the hell of it. I might not make as big a slash as you would, but it's what I want. Take the waist in an inch or two and dress is fabulous and since it isn't all white, you'll be able to wear it, in the future, as a ball gown."
The wedding took place outside, in mid-May. Thankfully the weatherman cooperated with magnificent, clear skies and bright sunshine. The guests were seated beside the swimming pool, while professional photographers plied their video and photographic trade. The wedding service itself was conducted under a large domed ramada.
How odd it was to have my best friend acting as Brad's Best Man. When I mentioned that to Brad, he said, "Yeah, it does seem weird seeing Amber being your Maid of Honor," He chuckled. "But let's face it, nothing has been normal since we met eight months ago."
When the ten minute non-denominational service ended, the attendees were treated to a delicious dinner prepared by a famous chef. Following dinner, a reception featuring a live band got things happening. Everyone appeared to be having a ball so shortly after cutting the cake, we made a graceful exit to go to our bedroom to change for our trip to Paris. And wouldn't you know it, that's when our guardians, Suzi Carpenter and Madame Soriano, dressed in their usual white, appeared at the top of the stairs. When I say appeared, I mean materialized out of thin air, like ghosts.
"Congratulations," Madame shouted as we ascended the stairs.
"Thank you," Brad replied as we approached the top of the stairs. When we stepped onto the landing our guardians hugged us warmly.
"It's too bad you missed the ceremony," I ventured.
Madame pursed her lips. "Oh, we saw it. We were around for everything. We maintained a low profile because we didn't want to distract from the partying."
Suzi pinched a loose portion of my dress. "I love your dress. You really are a handsome couple."
Madame added, "Yes, you are a lovely couple. I can't tell you how pleased I am the way things turned out." Then she wrapped an arm around her apprentice and using her most dramatic sorceress pose added, "In fact I'm going to recommend Suzi, here, for a commendation."
Suzi looked up at her boss. "You are?"
Madame nodded. "Yes, your intuition paved the way for a lot of good. I think you're a natural."
Suzi beamed.
I touched Suzi's wrist. It was soft and cool. "You're welcome to join the festivities."
Madame shook her head. "No we really need to go. We just wanted to say goodbye before we left."
Once again we hugged and then they vanished with a curt, "Goodbye," uttered by Suzi.
~ * * ~
After a quick wardrobe makeover from formal to casual, Ginger and I went back downstairs to leave. Naturally, Amber had everyone ready for our departure. It seemed like we made our way through a hundred pounds of rice to our 'Just Married' graffiti marred limousine, complete with tin cans.
Our limousine made the ten mile trip to John F. Kennedy Executive Air terminal in thirty minutes. Deliriously happy, we kissed and played around a little, but behaved ourselves since Howard, our chauffer, could see us with the rear view mirror. That was not the case after we took off for Paris in a sixteen seat company Gulfstream 500 jet.
When we took off, Ginger and I watched in awe as the plane circled the dazzling night-lit skyline of Manhattan.
"You know, I've never seen Manhattan from the air at night," Ginger said. "New York really is an amazing city."
I kissed her. "Yes, it is, but it's not as amazing as you."
"Aw, you're so sweet, I just love it when you wrap your arms around me and hold me tight." She sighed. "I can't wait until we get to Paris." She jerked away and turned. "Will it be light when we get there?"
I grinned. "Yep. With the six hour time difference and the seven hour flight, it'll be around nine in the morning. Why?"
A mischievous smile formed on her face. "Oh, just wondering." She nestled the top of her head into the crook of my neck and then continued. "You know we are all alone up here flying in the moonlight about thirty thousand feet above the ocean."
I pretended to look out the window. "I see that."
She pulled away again and scrunched her nose. "Well, doesn't that give you any ideas?"
I thought I knew where she was going, but I decided to tease her. "You're exhausted after your long exciting day and you want to sleep?"
Ginger's head lolled back as she inhaled deeply, "Men!" she whispered. Then as she ran her fingers over my crotch, she asked seductively, "I'd like to join the mile club. How about you?"
I didn't want to burst Ginger's bubble, but when I was her, I'd joined the mile high club in my millionaire client's jets at least four or five times. Nevertheless, this would be my first time as a man. So I answered in the affirmative, "Of course, but we're not alone. What about the flight attendant and pilot?"
"Sweetheart, they work for us. We're their bosses. I told Ester to stay in the galley and not come into the cabin unless we call her."
I'm sure the flight attendant, unless she had her earplugs in, got an earful, especially, Ginger's orgasms, which tend to be in the screaming eighty-decibel variety.
After an hour or more of blissful, mile high, honeymoon sex, wore out from our big day, we fell asleep in each other's arms.
~ * * ~
When money is not an issue you stay at the best, so Brad and I reserved the honeymoon suite at Four Seasons Paris The George V for the week. We agreed to spend only a week because with our duties as Bayshore's top executives that was all the time we could allow.
THE GEORGE V was a stunning hotel—the most beautiful I've ever seen. Our room, was lovely, and had a romantic view of the Eifel tower.
As you might expect, we spent the first day within the hotel confines and in our luxury bed with a mirrored canopy.
The next day and for the rest of the week we ventured out to see the sights of magnificent Paris. Our hotel was near the world famous, Avenue des Champs-Élysées and I wanted to go souvenir hunting and shopping, so we walked up George V to the reputed most beautiful avenue in the world. Then we casually walked up Champs-Élysées to Place Charles de Gaulle in the center of which stood the Arc de Triomph.
After walking through and around the arch, we headed back on the other side of the colonnade. Halfway back we stopped at a boulangerie and seated outside on the lovely day, enjoyed croissants and café au lait. I looked around. It was a beautiful day in a beautiful city. I then scrutinized my handsome three day old husband. All of a sudden, I rea
lized I'd never been happier.
Then the oddest thing happened. The memory of our wild and wanton mile high romp on our flight to Paris edged its way into my mind. As a result, my womanly core warmed.
I glanced around again. A trendy dress shop happened to be two doors down. "Honey." I hitched my head in its direction as Brad turned me. "Do you mind if I look in that store after we finish?"
"Of course not." He rose. "I'm finished. Let's go see what they have."
I perused the racks of smart, stylish dresses of Saxby's for two minutes selecting and handing two of them to Brad to hold. "That's enough for now. Let's find the dressing rooms." I took his hand and led him to the back of the store where the rooms were and then to the furthest of four dressing stalls. When I opened the door, he tried to hand me the dresses, but that wasn't what I had in mind. His face flashed surprise then smiling acceptance as I dragged him in and kissed him with passion.
Twenty minutes later, I handed the dresses to our sales clerk. "I'll take these." The smirk on her and her cohort's face told me they knew what we'd done. Was I embarrassed? No, to my surprise it pleased me.
As we left Saxby's, Brad wanted to know, "What would you like to do now, Gorgeous?"
Twining my arm in his, I nestled my lips to his ear and whispered, "Don't laugh. I want to go back to our room for an encore. What happened in the dressing room was like a sexy little appetizer, it was very tasty, but it didn't fill me up. But we'd best hurry. I'm so sexed up, right now, I could do it right on the street."
He laughed. "Why not do both!"
Obviously noticing my confusion, he grabbed my hand and took me into a narrow gap between two buildings, where we again kissed with passion. He was ready and so was I. We joined and enjoyed each other for a splendid, if improvised, five minutes. Unfortunately, I was unable to control my climatic scream, which in the confines of the four foot passageway sounded doubly loud. A young couple peeked into the opening and laughed. "Oh how cool," the woman said with an English accent. "We'll have to try that sometime." They continued to watch as we straightened our attire and she asked as we walked by, "How was it?"
