by TJ Klune
“Good,” Flavius said. He glanced at Darren, who was now doing pull-ups on a bar that he’d installed in the hallway. Flavius seemed very appreciative. “Nice.”
“Isn’t it?” Sandy asked. “He’s soft-core porn. I cherish him.”
Darren rolled his eyes as he pulled himself up again, biceps bulging.
“Corey,” Flavius said as he nodded at me. “I hear you’ve got to take money from rich people. Like Robin Hood.”
“Pretty much,” I mumbled, trying to not show how pleased I was at the idea of being Robin Hood. Especially since I’d had a crush on the Disney version when I was growing up.
(Yes. The fox one. Shut up.)
“Your hair still looks amazing,” Flavius said. “You’re welcome. Lead the way to your room and I can show you what I’ve brought.”
Resigned, I started to do just that. Sandy began to follow, but Flavius shook his head. “Let me handle this, all right? You stay out here with your soft-core porn.”
Sandy narrowed his eyes. “But—”
“I got this,” Flavius said. “Trust me.”
And wonder of all wonders, Sandy agreed.
Flavius followed me down the hall, and I shut the door behind us after we entered my room. He laid the garment bags on the bed before turning to look at me, a sunny smile on his face. “You doing okay?”
I shrugged and rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s been a weird week.”
“I hear that. I hope you don’t mind it’s just the two of us. Sandy can come in if it’ll make you more comfortable. I just thought it’d be nice, you and me.”
“It’s fine.”
“Okay,” Flavius said, turning back to the garment bags. “I have two options for you. I’m going to leave both of them here, so you don’t need to make a decision right away. I hate being put on the spot myself, and from what Sandy told me, you’re already outside of your comfort zone. I don’t want to make things worse, so no pressure, all right?”
I nodded.
He began to unzip the first bag. “I showed your picture to my wife. The one we took at the salon? You’re a little taller than she is, but her shoulders are just as broad as yours. She thought this would be a good choice with your skin color.”
He pulled out a dress. It was black with long sleeves and a fluttering hemline. It had prints of flowers on it, cream and mint and gray and pink. It was beautiful. And it looked really expensive.
“Nah,” he said when I asked. “She got it for, like, sixty bucks but said when she wears it, it makes her feel like she’s worth millions. I tell her she could be in sweats and be worth the same to me.”
I was touched. “And she’s okay with me borrowing it?”
Flavius squinted at me. “Of course. Help a sister out, you know? Or a brother, if you want to wear what I’ve brought. Dealer’s choice.”
He set down the dress carefully on the bed before he unzipped the other garment bag. Inside was a handsome blue sharkskin suit with a checkered dress shirt underneath. There was a red-and-white striped tie hanging down the front. “Color,” Flavius said. “Suits should always be about color. Black and white is boring. Got to give it a little pop, if you know what I mean. You and I should be about the same size. It’s a slim fit, so the hips and ass might be a little tight, seeing as how you’ve got more junk in your trunk than I do, but I think it’ll work.”
“You did this for me?” I asked, not quite understanding why I was getting choked up.
Flavius looked surprised. “Of course. Sandy’s good people, but so are you. We take care of each other in this community, you know? It’s the only way we’ll survive. It’s important to foster togetherness. Now more than ever.”
He set down the suit next to the dress as I came to stand next to him. “I don’t know what to pick,” I admitted.
He patted my shoulder. “And that’s why you don’t need to make that decision now.” He hesitated. Then, “And please tell me to shut up if I’m talking out my ass, but….” He shook his head. “You know that no matter what you choose, it’s okay, right? One isn’t better over the other. You do you. You’ll be gorgeous either way. Gender is… I think it’s always in flux. Oh, you won’t hear the majority of people agreeing with that, but why should anyone give a damn if I want to wear a dress to work? And while I’m not equating what I do and how you exist, I just want you to know I get it. Or at least I try to.”
I got what he was trying to say. Even now there were days when Kori still felt like a shield, someone to retreat into when things were becoming too heavy. That wasn’t always the case, but it sometimes could be. There was something called alternating gender incongruity, where the switches in gender were described as unwanted or involuntary. I didn’t know if that description quite fit me, but there were times when I woke up wondering why I was in this body, and the next day I’d wonder what I’d been thinking the day before. I had learned a long time ago that studies showed it was a shift in brain connectivity and hormone release that could create the sense of gender alternation.
It made sense.
Most of the time.
“You’re good people too,” I told Flavius. “And it sounds like your wife is the same.”
He grinned. “She’s the better part of me. Why don’t you try these on and we’ll get it sorted if anything needs to be altered. Fashion show!”
IN THE end, I chose the suit. Friday morning I woke up and I was Corey, and that’s the way it was going to be. I’d tried forcing it in the past just to see what happened, but it never worked out well.
The pants were a little tight (“A little?” Sandy exclaimed when I came out of my room. “Baby doll, your bubble butt looks like it’s about to pop.”), but I liked the way they pulled against my thighs, and my ass looked good.
Not that I was trying to impress anyone, of course. I wasn’t going to this dinner to try to land a sugar daddy (especially a Republican sugar daddy), and since Jeremy had made his feelings—or lack thereof—explicitly clear (to someone else while I was eavesdropping), there was no reason for me to worry about such things.
I still looked fucking hot.
And I felt a twist of savage satisfaction, when Jeremy arrived in the slut machine, to see his jaw drop as I walked (read: slinked) toward the Jeep. If there was a roll to my hips and a look of feigned disinterest on my face, that was nobody’s business but my own.
“You look….” Jeremy shook his head. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks,” I said, as if I heard that all the time. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He didn’t. Apparently Jeremy hadn’t gotten the color pop memo from Flavius, as his suit was black with a matching tie and a white button-down shirt. I wondered if the others were going to be dressed similarly, and I felt a low bite of unease in my stomach. I was out of my depth here as a tourist again with only Jeremy to navigate. It had all the ingredients for a disaster, but at least I’d go down looking good.
“You ready?” he asked as I fastened my seat belt.
“I’m always ready,” I said airily, sounding more confident than I actually felt.
I could feel him staring at me.
I ignored him.
“You seem different.”
I flashed my teeth at him in a razor-sharp smile. “I’m about to go take money from the rich. I’m on the hunt. I’m Shark Corey.”
“Right,” he said slowly. “That’s not—you know what? Doesn’t matter.”
He pulled away from the curb.
THE CATALINA Foothills consist of mostly cookie-cutter houses that get bigger the farther back you go. The area was certainly outside of anything I could ever dream of affording. I’d been to Catalina Foothills High School a couple of times years before, the parking lot filled with expensive cars that teenagers drove. The quad—for reasons no one could really explain—had been constructed of imported Italian tile, and I’d always wondered what life would have been like had I been born into money. To have a new Lexus gifted to me on my sixt
eenth birthday, to be able to afford expensive clothes rather than thrift store finds. Fifteen-year-old me had been jealous, coveting the things I didn’t have.
But I’d outgrown that. Mostly. I knew a black guy who’d gone to the high school there, and he’d said he was one of three black kids out of his entire graduating class. It wasn’t bad, he told me, but it’d made him uncomfortable. He hadn’t come from money, but the high school was one of the best in the state, the curriculum more geared toward college prep than anything else, and his parents had bought in the zip code to allow him to attend. Last I heard, he was at Yale.
Jeremy drove into a neighborhood I’d never been to. The houses were set back on hills, their driveways long, the yards actually having grass instead of rocks.
Outwardly, I was affable, sitting back in my seat, hand out the window, hot air rushing through my fingers.
Inwardly, I was panicking the closer we got. I felt like a fraud. It was like the leather bar all over again. I didn’t know why I kept allowing myself to be put in these positions.
It wasn’t helping that Jeremy had recently rediscovered his love affair with John Mayer. The fact that I was being serenaded about my body being a wonderland was almost enough to make me scream. I wanted to beat someone with a guitar.
“They’re good guys,” Jeremy was saying. “Well… most of them are. Stephen and Adam are, anyway. I probably won’t know everyone very well, but I can’t imagine anyone is going to be an asshole.”
“They agreed to hear us out,” I said lightly. “That’s a good start.”
Jeremy glanced at me. “I suppose they did. I just… I’m not like them, you know? I don’t have the backgrounds they do.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
He scowled. “They can be a bit much sometimes. I guess I’m trying to tell you not to let that color your judgment of me.”
“Nah,” I said. “You do that well enough on your own.”
“Shark Corey is an ass,” he mumbled.
I laughed at him. “You have no idea.” I sobered a little. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior in front of your friends.”
“You know I’m not worried about you, right?”
I shrugged. “Sure. But they are your friends. You must like them for a reason. And this is a pretty big deal. I’ll charm the hell out of them, we’ll get their money, and then we’ll descend from this place to go back with the rest of the plebeians where we belong.”
He sighed. “Please don’t say that to them.”
I scoffed. “As if I would—holy balls, is that their house?”
“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” Jeremy asked as he pulled into the driveway.
Ridiculous was an understatement. There was a fucking fountain near the front of the house, with a statue of a cherub holding a vase that water spilled from. The house itself looked to be three stories and had columns at the entryway. There were lights in the trees and bushes, the landscaping immaculate. I was probably lowering the property value just by existing near it.
“This is a mansion,” I hissed at Jeremy. “What happens if I get lost inside and have to wander the hallways until someone gives me a feather duster and I become part of the staff?” I glared at him accusingly. “Is this why you brought me? Am I a sacrifice to the house?”
He snorted as he parked next to something called a Bugatti, a sleek-looking car that I’d never heard of before. “Yes. That’s exactly why. Darn. How did you ever figure out my dastardly scheme?”
“Please tell me there are secret passages that you have to pull a book from the shelf to open. You know what? Never mind. I’m just going to pull all the books I see until I find it myself.”
Jeremy was startled into a laugh. “Please don’t do that. Adam is a rare-book collector who—”
I threw up my hands. “Of course he is.”
We got out of the Jeep. I was smoothing out my slacks when Jeremy came to stand before me. I looked at him, not flinching when he reached out and straightened my tie. “Fixed it for you,” he said quietly.
“Thanks,” I said awkwardly as I stepped back.
He looked like he was going to say something else when the front door opened and Stephen Morgan stepped out. “There you guys are,” he said cheerfully. “I thought I heard you pull up.”
“I don’t know how,” I muttered. “Your house is the size of god.”
Jeremy coughed roughly. “Hey, Stephen. Sorry we’re late. Traffic was a nightmare.”
Stephen waved a hand dismissively. “No worries. I’m pleased you came.” He winked at me. “Been trying to get this guy back up here for a while. Thanks for convincing him, Corey.”
I was charmed. While I’d only had brief moments with Stephen, I’d liked him. He was a little older than Jeremy and devilishly handsome. He wore a suit that was probably worth more than everything I owned, and it was cut perfectly for his chiseled frame. He looked like he was ready to star in Men.com suit porn, something I’d indulged in for a glorious few weeks last year.
Stephen kissed Jeremy on the cheek and shook my hand. “Thanks for letting us come last minute,” I said. “I hope we’re—I’m not imposing.”
Stephen shook his head. “The more the merrier. And I’m definitely curious to hear your pitch, though I don’t know if you’ll need to work too hard to convince me. I know Phoenix House is important. Though my time was cut short there, I could see the possibilities. You’ve got me in your corner in case anyone else tries to give you shit.”
That surprised me.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
THERE WERE eight of us in total, all men, and aside from me and Stephen’s partner, Adam, all white. There was a Chad and a Luke and a Chase and a Brad, and I wondered if this was my version of a monosyllabic hell. I scolded myself for being so judgmental so quickly, but I couldn’t help it.
Especially when Brad seemed surprised to see me and said, “You’re very exotic,” like it was something normal people commented on.
I let it slide. For now. Especially when Chase chided him. “Don’t be crass.”
Brad—blond, blue-eyed, and gorgeous—looked annoyed. “It was a compliment.”
Yeah, I wanted to take his money more than anyone else’s so far, and it’d only been a couple of minutes. “Thanks. I think.”
Jeremy stood at my side, frowning. “Brad,” he said stiffly. “Nice to see you again. Chase, you’re still putting up with his shit?”
Chase laughed, his teeth blindingly white. “What can I say? He keeps me young. Seems as if you know what I’m talking about.” He eyed me up and down pointedly.
Jeremy started to splutter.
Useless. “We’re colleagues,” I said smoothly. “I work at Phoenix House, where he’s the director.”
“How charitable of you,” Luke said, sipping an amber liquid from a crystal glass. We were in what Stephen had called the parlor before disappearing through a doorway. “Those poor children, needing such a place.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“That they don’t have anywhere else they feel like they can be safe,” Chad said, reaching out to squeeze Luke’s hand. Ah, so Chad and Luke. And Chase and Brad. And of course, Stephen and Adam, who I hadn’t met yet. All couples. Joy. “They don’t have families of their own.”
I squinted at him. “Do you… do you not know what Phoenix House is? I mean, sure, some of the kids are in foster care, and we do have homeless outreach, but that’s not the sole purpose of Phoenix House.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” Chad said quickly. “And I meant no offense.”
“It’s okay,” Jeremy said. “We’re… very protective of our kids.”
“That’s adorable,” Brad said. “Your kids. How sweet.”
He didn’t sound like he meant it at all. I hoped he would survive after I took him for everything he had.
Thankfully he was saved from a well-placed barb that would have gone over his pretty head when Stephen returned, f
ollowed by a smiling black man. He saw Jeremy and squealed loudly before rushing over to hug him tightly. Jeremy smiled as he patted his back. “It’s good to see you, Adam.”
“I couldn’t believe when Stephen told me you were actually coming,” Adam said, stepping back and holding Jeremy by the elbows.
“It hasn’t been that long,” Jeremy said.
“Liar,” Adam said fondly. “I’m just happy you’re here. And where is this—ah. You must be Corey. Stephen told me all about you. It’s lovely to finally meet you.”
I blinked in surprise as I held out my hand. “He did? That’s—” My hand was ignored as Adam hugged me too. He smacked a kiss on my cheek before pulling away.
“He was very impressed by you,” Adam said as he stepped back. “Said you had a good head on your shoulders. He was disappointed he didn’t get the chance to work with you.”
“Duty calls,” Stephen said. “We took on a big client at the firm at the last minute and needed all hands on deck.”
“Come,” Adam said. “Let me give you a tour of the house. And then we can sit and discuss why you’re here.” He took me by the hand and pulled me out of the parlor. I glanced back at Jeremy, seeing if he would save me, but he just smiled and waved.
Traitor.
“…AND THEY aren’t so bad once you get used to them,” Adam was saying as he led me back down the stairs. “Well, most of them. Brad is a dick, but we all have our faults, I suppose.”
“Understatement,” I muttered, mind reeling from the sheer size of the house. It seemed a bit much for just the two of them, though I kept that thought to myself. “He said I looked exotic.”
Adam made a face. “You have my permission to throw a drink in his face should the need arise.”
“Duly noted.”
Adam stopped at the bottom of the stairs, turning to look back at me. “Jeremy is a treasure. I’m happy to see someone else who understands that and isn’t trying to take advantage of him.”
I was alarmed. “Oh, hey, no, I think you’ve got the wrong idea. We’re not—”
