Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 26
This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets challenges, his soul mate and many other soon to be friends.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental.
The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move.
This work is copyrighted by Boethiuscell@gmail.com © 2023
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and retrieval system, without the written permission of the copyright owned to the extent permitted by law.
Please contribute to Nifty. They do a great job of providing stories that please the senses, titillate the mind, and expand our view of the world.
Chapter 26--Chicago
It was almost midnight when Chris and Tom checked into the Warwick-Allerton Hotel. Helga had booked Tom and Chris into the same room on the 20th floor. The room was nice with two queen size beds, small desk and large TV. Chris looked out the window with the view of Michigan Avenue and beyond. The beyond was where his parents lived. A wave of longing, regret, resignation and resolution held Chris to the window, one hand on the glass pane. "Your parents in that direction?" Tom nuzzled into Chris's neck. He pulled Chris away and closed the drapes. "We have a gift basket. Knowing Helga, I bet it has goodies in it. I could use a nibble." Tom pulled Chris by the waist to a small table flanked by two comfortable chairs. Tom carefully pulled the cellophane from the basket. "A bottle of wine." Tom held it up for Chris. "An auspicious start," He rummaged through the rest of the baskets. "Chocolates, crackers, cheeses, pretzels, mixed nuts, and...," Tom dug deeper, "Bless you Helga." Tom pulled out a package of candy. "You can count on Helga to remember my favorite, Wine Gums." Chris did not see the cause for enthusiasm as Tom ripped open the package and popped a black lozenge shaped confection into his mouth. "Ooh so good." Tom's head tilted slightly back and he moaned in delight. "May not share these with you." He shoved the package toward Chris. "Try one, the red is good but the black is the best."
Chris extracted a black candy, almost a gummy, smelt it, deciding the odor was not noxious, and cautiously dropped it into his mouth. He expected since it was black that it was licorice, but.... "Wow this is intense. What is the fruit?"
"Black currant" Tom pulled back the bag positively and picked out an orange crown. "Aw my precious." It disappeared behind his lips.
Chris just shook his head. "I'll open the wine and prepare a small cheese tray." Wine in hand Chris asked, "What is on the agenda for tomorrow."
"The morning is a stockholder meeting, lunch, and then in the afternoon a financial consultant, psychologist for image management, and fun stuff."
"I have a flight to Miami at 4, and then from there, connections to St Croix. I won't be able to participate much in the afternoon events. And I'm not a stockholder, so why am I here?"
"Chris, you are a stockholder. All the employees have a share of the stocks. Granted it is not large, but it is enough to give you an interest in the success of the business."
"Oh," Chris smiled to himself that he actually owned stock. "What time tomorrow, or rather today do we start."
Tom looked over the schedule that was included in the basket. "Breakfast at 7:00 and starting at 8:00. Guess we need to hit the sheets." Tom looked over at Chris, "One bed or two." Chris threw a cracker at Tom, bouncing it off his nose. Only one bed was used.
A small banquet room was set up with ten tables holding eight places, a head table, and a breakfast buffet against a side wall. The room was about half full with mostly men. Chris was first struck by the age range he saw; from late teen boys to gray haired men. Some of the younger models were under the scrutiny of an adult, Chris presumed a parent. The room was noisy and friendly. "Hey, Tom, you old sod, how they hanging." Chris looked up from his decision over fruit. The man gave Chris a brief nod and returned to Tom.
"Mitch, you are looking mighty fine, for your age." Tom smirked, "Turning 60?"
Mitch bristled and then laughed. It was a warm open laugh. "I have you know that I am not a day over 45." He stood more erect and rubbed his hands down his chest, flattening his flowered shirt.
"I would fire whoever does your makeup. They're making you look ancient." Tom gave Mitch a friendly slap on the shoulder. "You still mostly in Alanta?"
"Yea, you New York?"
"Yea, and love it there. Work mostly for Macy's, don't travel as much."
"You're lucky. I was in South America, Argentina, for a few days, then a week in Africa, then several cities in the US. My wife's royally pissed at me since she is at home with two teenage girls."
"Mention the domestic issue to Helga, she can find gigs closer."
"Who says I want closer," Mitch laughed. "I said there were two teenager girls at home." Tom laughed while putting French toast on his plate. "You ready to settle down with someone?" Mitch leaned into Tom with a shoulder bump.
"Working on it." Tom shyly smiles. Chris smiled too.
"Have you met the new kid? Say he is sexy as hell and just your type. Too dumb to realize what a slut you are."
"Hey, I may resemble that remark. But yes and yes." Tom turned and pulled Chris beside him. "This is the new kid." Taking Chris by surprise, Tom kissed Chris. "And what I am working on." Mitch without a blink extended his hand. "Mitch Reynolds, I want you to meet Chris." Chris extended his hand. "This over the hill reprobate is Mitch. He saved me from many dangerous indiscretions."
Mitch pulled Chris from behind Tom and placed an arm casually over Chris's shoulder. "We need to talk."
"Hey, he likes me," squeaked Tom. "Don't ruin it."
"Mitch," Chris pulls the man further along the line, close like firm buddies, "let's dish." Mitch gives Tom a thumbs up behind Chris's back. "Woe is me." Chris heard Tom say.
Mitch led Tom and Chris to a table near the front. Mitch introduced Chris to Ethan, Levi, and Lance. The conversation was mostly about what each project they worked on. Shelby and Noah asked if they could join, and graciously shown the two empty seats. It soon became apparent that they chose the table because of Chris. They shamelessly flirted with him, and Chris flirted back, much to Tom's annoyance.
At 8:00, Stu stood at the head table and gathered everyone's attention. "Welcome, ladies," Stu tipped his head to the dozen or so women present, "and gentlemen. Welcome to our annual business meeting. I appreciate your commitment to the success of our company by your presence today. First some housekeeping. The business portion should be done by noon." A hoots erupted from one table. Stu just stared at the offending table, and all noise subsided. "As I was saying the business portion will be over by noon." Stu made pointed look at the once noisy table. "Lunch will be served at noon in this room. You will find a menu with selections, make your choices now and give the card to one of the wait staff." Noise ensued as everyone found the menu, a few sounds as people asked for pens, and then the wait staff gathering the choices. "Great, Next is personnel changes, new members of the family and others who have left us. Helga."
Helga stood in a woman's business suit, the flamingo pink of the suit clashing with her tangerine hair. "Marty Fisher has retired to Jamaica and Lloyd Croce left to become creative director at a competitor. We wish both of them well. Now for the new members of our family. Please stand when I call your name. D-Wayne," He stood and, with a theatrical flourish of his hands, bowed. "He will be based in Chicago. Next is Robby Paxton." He shyly stood, but towering at least 6' 4", with long blond dreadlocks he was not hidden. "Next are Michael and Matthew Svenson, yes they are twins."
The stood and yelled that they preferred "Micky" and "Matty".
"They are working out of Chicago, but may move to New York." They were exotic with blonde hair and darker Mediterranean skin. Chris watched the twins sit; he gasped. Toby was in between then, a hand on each boy's backside. Chris nudged Tom to look. Toby caught Chris's look, smiled showing his canines, and with his index finger made a cutting motion. Chris returned the gesture with an overly friendly smile. Mitch nudged Chris that his name was called. "...Wentworth." Chris stood. "He is currently working in our New York market and making a very positive splash for our company." Helga pointed to the new talent. "Please welcome our newest talent with a great round of applause."
Once the applause abated and the newbies sat Helga continued. "Adam, Cynthia please stand." Chris broke off a comment to Lance. Cynthia Dubois was here. "Corbett & Steinholtz has been very successful in the Chicago market for over one hundred years. But we must grow as a company. We tested our brand in New York with Tom Greenwood, Toby Jackson, and our newest talent Chris Wentworth. The three have more work in New York than they can handle, which is why we are adding Robby Paxton to our New York base. The board realizes that we cannot continue to grow is we are based solely in Chicago. Which is why we were exploring opening an office in New York. Then a proposal came in that we jumped at. We have acquired Silent Models. It is well established and respected in the New York market. Chris Wentworth has worked for them, under contract for over six weeks, and can fill you in on any details about the operation." All eyes turned toward Chris then back to Helga as she continued. "They have a solid creative team, which is why we are retaining Cynthia DuBois as the Chief Operating Officer." Cynthia bowed giving Chris a quick wink. "Next to her is Adam Levitt. He will be Chief Financial Officer." Adam waved to everyone. "There will be a meet and greet later this afternoon at a reception." The place buzzed with chatter. "Any questions."
Chris raised his hand, "Do the employees at Silent Model know this?
Helga nodded to Cynthia to answer. "Yes, Chris, and I appreciate your concern for my and now our employees. They are being told about the acquisition now. I expect a few glitches as we merge systems and personnel, but I am also confident that with all the professional talent in both entities, the New York office will flourish."
Another hand "Will there be a name change?"
Stu stood up. "Not at this time. Silent Models reputation is so strong that we need to capitalize on it. For anyone in this room not currently based in New York there will be no change."
"Are there plans to expand to the West Coast and L.A.?"
"We have been static in the Chicago market too long, so of course if the right opportunity comes along we will expand west." Stu's smile hinted that the opportunity existed. "Gorky could you give us a financial report."
Gorky pulled out a ring binder, put on black framed glasses, opened the binder and read in a monotone. A screen slide down and his PowerPoint started. "Since our last annual meeting on May 19,2014, these are the projects which earned over fifty thousand dollars. Carrying over contracts Ace Hardware, local, $61,425, Macys, $1,100,000, Sears catalogue, $500,000 Taylor and Lords, local, $51,974.25." He smiled up at the crowd. "Only 113 contracts to go." The groan from the was deafening. "Am I boring you with this important information on our bread and butter?" "Yes" someone had the balls to yell. It was Tom. Tom looked a Chris with a grin. "I am so sorry Mr. Greenwood that I am not capturing your limited attention span." Gorky was leaning over the podium staring a hole into Tom. "Do you need alphabet blocks to spell things out? Maybe a picture book?" The next slide clicked. It was Tom sleeping on a too small sofa in just his underwear. That elicited catcalls and whistles. Click another slide. Another man struggling to put leather pants on, taken from the rear side, ass crack exposed. Another, man adjusting a jock strap. Another, man walking the runway in mesh pants. "Nice package, Wyatt." Yelled a voice. "Wishing yours were half as large Selby" came the reply, presumably from Wyatt.
The content of the slides shifted from the slightly salacious and embarrassing to the men's work. Short videos, photo layouts, print ads all slick, provocative, and professions. "Damn," said a voice, "we do good work." At that comment, Gorky paused the show. "That is precisely the point of this presentation. We may be goof offs, sometimes, over sexed most of the time, but we do damn good work that each of you should be proud of. You are here at Corbett & Steinholtz not just because you have a pretty face and a hot body, but because you smart and talented and are not clones but breathing people. That is what shows in all your work. I, Miriam, Helga and Stu are damned proud of you and love you like family." A voice from the back, "Can I have an increase in allowance?" Laughter. "Fuck no Logan, you just squander it on Beanie Babies." More laughter. "We have five new members. Want to see their auditions pics?" A chorus of approval mixed with a few lude remarks.
D-wayne was first. He flirted with the camera, he camped and vamped the camera. The outfits were wild and flamboyant, as was his personality. The comments were a mix of "work it girl" and "flaunt it baby."
Next was the twins. First were a few of Micky, preppy, chavy, and punk. Followed by Matty, elegant, professional and studious. What ultimately caused an uproar was the two together in master/slave, thong swimwear, and emo with chains.
Robby, since he was young and his parents more conservative, was surfer, western, and boy next door. "So adorable" a few people said.
Last is Chris Wentworth. Some of you dudes may have heard rumor of him. I'll let you decide if it is true. The first slide were a quick montage of emotions. Chris wanted to crawl under the table. Then a tuxedo, followed by a swimsuit. That earned whistles. Gorky paused and looked a Chris, who had slide down until his nose was table level. Click. Chris nude from the back side, face looking over his shoulder, vulnerable and seductive. The look in the eyes and the pout of the lips said available but not for you. No loud comments were made. Click. Chris in his leather outfit. "Damn that is hot. I'd let him fuck me and I'm straight." came a voice. Gorky chuckled silently as he saw Chris pull a napkin over his face. "So, guys and gals that is it. The end of my report on the past year's activities. Cameras are ready to report this coming years work so be proud of yourself and never lose what makes you special." Gorky did a slight bow to thunderous applause.
Stu returned to the podium. "Thank you Gorky for your illuminating report." Gorky did a little bow from his seat. "Now lunch will be served in 30 minutes. That should give you time to powder your noses."
The five new models were mobbed with welcome, but Chris more so with many indecent propositions. Tom was starting to get jealous and territorial. "Chris," Tom jerked Chris's elbow, "Stu needs you for a second." Chris excused himself and followed Tom. "Sorry, I lied about Stu. Thought you might want to break free from all the fawning."
Chris looked at Tom. "Fawning? Are you jealous?" Tom hemmed and hawed. "Tom, I can take care of myself and decide for myself whom I want to consort with." Tom looked sheepishly at the floor. "Don't you think I am open to as much temptation in New York as here? If you want to worry about my virtue, you may be too late." Tom gave a half-hearted apology. "Now I need to pee." Chris turned and walked off happy.
Chris, drying his hands under the warm air blower, was think to himself about Tom when he was spun around and pinned by the shoulders to the wall.
"Told you to back off, Tom's mine you cuntboi." It was Toby, rage in his face, eyes slightly glazed. "You're a pathetic freak, you ain't got nothing a real man would want, just a wasted piece of pussy." Toby's face was close to Chris. "Bet that pussy might want a nice thick dick before it crawls back into a deep shit hole it belongs." Toby rubbed his crotch against Chris. "Tom's mine. I own his ass, his dick, his balls."
Chris should have felt scared, but he was more amused. He started to laugh, "Toby, what fantasy world do you live in." Toby pulled back but did not relinquish his hold. "If Tom wants you, he can have you."
"Damn fucking right, cuntboi. He is mine."
"Here is your fantasy, he does not want you."
"You think you own that fucker?"
Chris understood that Toby was not rational and therefore was dangerous.
"No, I don't own him either."
"You think you're so smart and get your name in the paper, but I got the goods on you. I know what a gutter crawler you are." Chris patiently waited for Toby to continue. "I know you done Gordy's party and I knowed what goes on there. He's got the evidence." Chris just laughed. "All on tape."
"I assume you are referring to Derick Gordon. I doubt you even know him or have any leverage with him."
"Naw, me and Gordy are best buds, we got business dealing, he and I. Yeah best buds. We scratch each other; know what I means."
"I find that unlikely otherwise you would know what is on any tape he has of me at his party."
"Ain't seen it yet but I've been there often; I'll find you floating on coke, liquid x, crystal, peace and screaming like a fifty cent whore as you get pussy fucked by a dozen guys." Toby pause trying to return to a train of thought. "Then I post them for everyone to see. Give me Tom, and I won't."
"Toby, you are more than welcome to post the videos. I will not be blackmailed but some cheap punk."
"I ain't not a cheap punk, I run businesses that make me lots of greens. I got big plans for Tom." Toby sputtered off. "Big plans."
"Toby, this conversation is entertaining, but over." Chris gently pushed Toby's hands off his shoulder. "I need to return for lunch before anyone starts questioning where I am."
Toby stepped back. "You listen cuntboi, Tom's mine, his ass is mine. Back off or you will be very sorry." Toby turned and rushed out.
Chris stood there a few minutes deciding how he should proceed with this conversation. He took Toby's threat serious but not enough to report it. He was puzzled by Toby's comments about Derick Gordon. He texted Chet.
"What took you so long?" Tom asked.
"Toby." Tom looked concerned. " He stopped me for a chat. He wants you back and me to step aside to permit you. He seems to think I have some sort of magical control over you."
Tom frowned. "You do, but I love being in your control. Toby can go to hell after what he did to me."
"I think that is what he wants to resume."
Tom's voice rose. "No way in hell."
Mitch looked over at Tom, "Problem."
"Hell yes, Toby is a manipulative conman. I need you to know it, and so do the rest of the guys." Tom quieted down. "He is dangerous and out only for himself."
"Okay," Mitch smiled cautiously, "Maybe you should discuss your observations with Stu." Tom nodded.
The food came and everyone returned to convivial conversation. Chris's phone buzzed. Chris excused himself. When he returned, Tom leaned over and whispered "What was that about."
"Afraid it is a secret lover?" Chris smiled back, but Tom did not return the smile. "No, it was Chet. Toby said something in the bathroom that I thought Chet should know about." Tom waited for further information. "Sorry, I can't tell you anything." Tom cautiously whispered back "FBI." Chris slightly nodded; Tom tensed and released. He glanced around and saw Toby was missing, so were the twins. "I need to find Stu," Tom announced and left the table. Chris reached to stop him but was too late.
"Anything wrong?" asked Mitch. Chris felt that Mitch had heard some of the conversation and astute enough to figure part of it out.
"Just a minor problem that is not worth the trouble." Chris soothed over the issue.
Mitch slid closer to Chris. "If it involves Toby, it is serious trouble because he is serious trouble." Chris excused himself from the table saying he needed to pack since he was leaving soon for St. Croix. Extricating himself from the meeting room was more difficult than doing TSA at the airport. Chris was stopped constantly for welcomes, comments on his interview photos, questions about Silent Models, and propositions.
Shannon, a slim elegant feminine young man, slipped an arm around Chris's. His androgynous beauty startled Chris. "Chris, baby, so excited to have you join us. I so would like to talk to you. I think we have so much in common."
Chris was not sure what the "in common" was but he was not willing to insult the young man. "I need to go to my room because I have a flight to catch." Shannon frowned. "Want to walk with me?" Shannon kept his arm in Chris's. The conversation was mostly about work, his admiration for Chris posing nude, about Silent Model and New York.
Once alone in the elevator, Shannon went silent looking at Chris. "I am so excited about having another one of us working together." Chris was not sure where the conversation was going so said nothing. "You know--being trans." Chris felt the dunce cap on his head; looking at Shannon it was obvious. "You planning on going all the way and replace the outie with an innie?"
Chris fumbled with a reply because he was not certain what Shannon meant. Shannon pointed delicately at his crotch. "Oh," Chris understood. "No innie to an outie."
"But the package." Shannon looked at Chris's crotch and the subtle bulge.
"Fake. a very good fake."
"Well, honey," Shannon cooed. "It does you proud. Me, I hated the balls swinging. Had them removed as soon as my parents and doctor said I could."
"Same except with breasts."
"We could have done a swap." Shannon's laugh was high and tinkled with amusement. The elevator door opened and Chris lead Shannon, arm in arm down the hall. "I still have the wanger, small, but once I finish surgery." Shannon removed his arm from Chris's. Flourishing his hands, "Zerina." He laughed lightly.
"Are your completing the transformation soon?"
Shannon hand hit his chest in mock shock. "No, dearie, I am a male model making very good money. I want to have a nest egg before I go under the final knife. Life is too uncertain to not have a security blanket." Chris knew from experience the truth of that statement. "You?"
"I hate my body." Shannon nodded sympathy. "Once I finish fertility treatments, I will start my testosterone treatments and surgery by next year."
"If you don't mind asking why fertility?"
"Saving my eggs."
"Oooh," Shannon squealed, "You'll be the baby's mommy daddy." Chris found that funny. "But think of the child's confusion when he finds out his father is also his mother."
"I'll be the father in name not deed." But Chris now had a new concern, for another day he decided. The arrived at Chris's room. An envelope was taped to the handle.
Chris let Shannon into the room. He opened the envelope, blanched, crumpled it and threw it in the wastebasket. "What was that about?" Shannon asked. Chris blew it off as a lewd proposition from a fan and went into the bathroom to collect his toiletries. Curious, Shannon pulled the crumpled paper out. In crayon it said Tom or and a stick figure with blonde hair, red running from the neck and a small hole burned into the groin area. Shannon folded it and slipped it into his jeans. He found a piece of stationary, crumpled it and threw it into the wastebasket.
Chris rounded the corner from the bath room with a small bag in hand. He looked at Shannon, who seemed tense, "You okay?"
"Yea, fine just had a weird thought." Shannon sat on Tom's bed while Chris continued to pack. "I'm a man who wants to be a woman but wants to marry a man. Does that make me gay or straight?"
"Interesting questions." Chris laughed at the thought and sat next to Shannon. "I'm female want to become male and then marry a man. I guess the labels just break down and become unimportant. I just know where my heart and soul lie and my body must follow."
"The big problem is finding a man who can accept us as we are." Shannon sat dejected as he thought of the torment he took in high school.
"Yes, but you can if you be yourself and let yourself shine. The right man will be drawn. Not all men are shallow."
A heavy sigh came from Shannon. "You've found someone." Shannon grinned. Chris nodded, not sure yet if it were true. "Holy fuck," Shannon shot up from the bed. "Not Tom Greenwood." Shannon turned to look Chris directly in the eye. Chris could not lie so he just grinned. "That is awesome, so fucking awesome." Shannon's enthusiasm halted like a truck into a brick wall. "He does know?" Shannon gestured to Chris's body.
"Yes, he does know about everything. It's why I'm freezing my eggs now. Some of his family knows too."
"So way cool, man." a pause, "How does your family feel about it?"
"Less cool, let's say." Chris stood, visually checked the room, found a pair of shoes and threw them in a suitcase with his toiletry bag. "I refuse to hide who I am, so many people know. I just don't wear a sign. So far it seems to work for me."
Chris grabbed his suitcase, and they left the room. Shannon patted the paper in his jeans. It was now making sense. Once Chris's bag was left at the front desk, and he was informed that a shuttle would leave to take guest to the airport in 30 minutes, Chris found Tom, still sitting with Mitch and Wyatt. "I leave in 30," Chris told Tom. "I should be back Wednesday, late."
"Want me to check on your sister?" Tom pulled Chris close to him.
"No, she should be fine." Chris loved the smell of Tom's cologne, a deep woody smell. "She is with her class, and Benjie will watch out for her too." They both laughed at that because it was obvious that Benjie liked Chris's sister. "What are your plans while I am gone?"
"Working with Adam on the integration of Silent Models with us. A couple of photo shoots with Armani; the usual routine." Tom looked at Chris who was frowning slightly. "Worried?"
"Sort of," Chris swiveled his shoulders. "not really. But yeah. I've never been out of the country before."
That got Tom, Mitch and Wyatt laughing. "St. Croix is not out of the country. It is part of the U S Virgin Islands. Don't need a passport." Wyatt assured Chris, who now frowned in disappointment. "I wanted to get the first stamp in my passport."
"Don't worry Chris, by the end of the year you will have plenty."
Guys kept coming up to Chris to introduce themselves, chat about what he is doing, and generally making Chris feel welcome. Chris did feel welcome, not that the guys came off as friends, but more important to Chris, they came off as dedicated colleagues and fellow travelers. Chris had a real job and was respected by his peers. This was a new sensation of confidence, purpose, and a future. Startled from his thoughts, "What, huh."
"Falling asleep," Shannon laughed. "You have 10 hours to sleep while traveling."
"Not sleeping, just thinking." No one asked what about. "I expect to be bored the whole way, But I have my Kindle." Chris patted his messenger bag that held plane tickets, a change of under clothes, two Snickers bars, and his tablet, "I have a few hours in Miami." Groans from everyone at the table. "That bad?" They tried to assure him it was not that bad; there were many far worse airports. "That is very comforting....Would I have time to site see?" Several nos answered. "Sorry guys I need to leave." Chris stood. "You do not know how much I enjoyed meeting each of you and how honored I am to be part of your company." Handshakes and hugs, a couple not chaste, Chris left the table with Tom and Shannon following.
Chris picked up his bag, told that the shuttle would be out front in 5. "You take care of yourself Tom." The lobby was full of people and Chris was unsure how to act. Tom solved it by pulling Chris into a close hug and kiss on the lips. The kiss lasted longer than friends but just short of obscene. "I should leave more often."
"I'll be back in New York by 11 tonight," Tom yelled as Chris headed toward the shuttle. Chris thought he heard Shannon say that they needed to talk then the rest was lost in the doors.
Comfortably seated in the shuttle with another couple, the driver said, "Just waiting for one more person, who just lost a heel." Chris looked out the shuttle window and saw Cynthia, shoes in hand, briskly walking toward the shuttle.
Seated beside Chris, Cynthia held her shoes in her hand, one stiletto hanging from the sole. "Heel got caught in the door." She dug through her large purse and pulled out a bottle. "Glue, it should hold until I find another pair." Chris watched her expertly apply glue to both sole and heel, rub then together to reposition and hold them. She showed me the tube--Shoe Goo. "Works every time. Needs a good 24 hours to be fully cured but it should be good enough to hold until the airport." Since they needed to be at O'Hare two hours before departure, Chris figured she should be able to find some footwear there.
"Heading back to New York?" Chris asked, still fascinated by the glue.
"Why would I do that?" Cynthia curtly asked. "You're my escort to St. Croix. This is the finish to that major project. I can't drop the ball now."
Chris grinned at the thought of time with Cynthia, he liked her, a lot. "I was told about ten hours."
"With a two hour layover in Miami." Cynthia's weak attempt to make the time seem less onerous.
"Still ten hours and midnight." Cynthia's look humored him. "And I have this boss who will have me up before the sun."
"I heard," Cynthia snarked, "wake up is at 3 AM for one employee. Got to get his attitude right before work."
Yes, Chris liked Cynthia. "okay, won't complain, whine, or sulk." Chris conceded, "But if I cry can it be later than 3?"
"Impervious to tears."
"Bribery?"
"Depends upon what." Cynthia waggled her eyebrows.
"Just dinner in Miami." Chris waggled his eyebrows back. Cynthia frowned in thought then cheerfully agreed.
At O'Hare, they shoe shopped, at Miami dined, and all the way to St. Croix discussed the merger, himself, herself, ballet, and other minutiae that cements friendships. Chris like for Cynthia grew into admirations. He found her witty and perceptive. She already had a feel for whom she wanted to transfer to New York, some ideas on expanding business, and insights into the fashion business. It was Fashion 101 for Chris, and he sucked it all in.
Tom and Shannon met Stu and Helga is Stu's suit. "What is this about Tom, Shannon?" Helga met Tom's eyes like a Svengali, but said nothing.
"Stu, Helga it is about Toby. I think he is threatening Chris because of me." Helga only nodded and Stu looked baffled.
"Why?" Stu asked.
Tom took a deep breath and explained everything since Chris came to New York. Toby pimping Tom's ass and the thefts and drugs. He was not proud of himself, but he loved Chris enough to bare it all.
"Thank you Tom." Stu responded when Tom finished, but turned to Shannon. "And why are you here?"
"Sir, this was taped in an envelope on Chris's door when he went to his room to pack. I was with him to help and chat about our similar situations." Shannon handed the crumpled paper to Stu, who looked at it, and handed it to Helga. Helga blanched.
"Why isn't Chris bringing this harassment to us. He knows that we do not allow anything like this." Helga asked. She looked at the paper and was furious and deeply concerned.
"I cannot say Stu," Tom sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Chris likes to think he is alone against the world. He values his independence and sees tattling as encroaching on that. Don't ask me the logic of it. His time on the street has made him cautious and confident that he can protect himself." Tom looked at his hands, "He needs us."
"These are very serious charges against one of our talents. And nothing you have presented, even the paper, is sufficient proof that Toby is harassing Chris or a threat to him; since it was taped to the door, anyone could have put it there." Tom stood ready to storm out of the room. "It is not that I don't believe you. It is that I need evidence, or Chris's statement."
Tom sat lost in the frustration of wanting to protect Chris but not knowing how. "I understand Sir, so we wait until Toby harms Chris. I cannot allow that. Isn't what he did to me enough. I have the police reports." Tom sat straighter like he had made up his mind. "That does speak to his moral character, but although you were pimped, the sex was consensual. And the theft if a criminal issue. Did you press charges?"
"No, because the stolen pieces were returned and other missing pieces I did not have proof that Toby stole them." Tom's frustration was boiling over. "Chris and I will resign. I will take him to England to live with my Grandda."
"Tom, I understand your frustration, but would Chris even agree to this plan. You said he is head strong."
"No, no he would not. He will not run; he will not hide; he will not be intimidated by anyone." Tom's face sank in despair. "I love him and don't know how to protect him." Tom mulled over his word of "I love him" and new that they were the truest thing he ever said.
Helga smiled at Tom. "This brings up another issue with Toby we needed to discuss." Helga looked at Stu. "I am getting negative feedback from our clients that he is irresponsible, disrespectful, and apparently on drugs. I have over a dozen clients who never want him back."
"I see," said Stu grinning. "We have a zero tolerance for drug use and need positive feedback from our clients about our talent. Of course, you have that all documented?'
"Documented and verified from several witnesses."
"Then we need to sever our relationship with Mr. Jackson, immediately. Draw up the necessary paperwork."
"Already done, Stu. Toby is scheduled to see us," She looked at her watch, "in 45 minutes. I had planned on discussing this with you until Shannon and Tom brought up this other problem."
Stu chuckled. "I can always count on you Helga. And the sacking will not be attributed to Chris."
Everyone stood satisfied with the results. Shannon had already left the room when Tom asked Stu and Helga. "Has Chris told you he did work for the FBI?"
"Fuck what?" Stu yelled pulling Tom back into the room. "Explain."
Tom sat down and explained what he little knew about the sting and Derick Gordon and Chris's last comment about Toby might be involved.
"That little shit." Stu said. Tom was not sure it was in reference to Chris or Toby. "Thank you Tom. I have contacts with the FBI. I will see what I can find out."
Tom was standing in the lobby of the hotel waiting for transportation to the airport when he was pulled by the front of his shirt into Toby's face. "I may not work with you Tommy Boy, but your ass is mine, and that cuntboi's dead." He let Tom go and stormed out of the hotel. Tom looked around the lobby. No one was in ear shot.