Maiden Voyage, Part Three
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An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Nikki came in, pulling a large rack of clothes covered in garment bags.

"Why so many?" I whined.

Nikki sat on the bed, panting. "We have to find the most flattering outfits for you. Ones that make you look the best, ones that won't give you away."

I groaned. "Okay, what am I supposed to do?"

"Get undressed. Put these on." She tossed me a package of bland cotton panties.

I suddenly felt embarrassed. "Um, Nikki, that's not going to cover much."

"You don't have anything I haven't seen. But if you're really worried, try that rubber thing your sister put on you."

In the bathroom, I struggled into the sex-hiding device. It was still agony, but I supposed I had better get used to it for the party. I slid the panties on over it and went out to show my friend.

"Hmm," Nikki eyeballed me critically. "Wow, Andrew, you're so skinny! Not skinny, but slender! What's your secret?"

"Malnutrition."

Nikki's face fell. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"Don't worry."

"Well, whatever the reason, you have the right frame for this. And you're not hairy. Good. Now sit down, relax, and let me try a few things."

For the next half-hour, Nikki cooed over me like a newborn baby. First, she applied a depilatory to my armpits and face. "This'll last a few days and keep you from growing any shadow."

Next, she plucked my eyebrows. I complained but she insisted that if I chose not to continue this after Miami, there would be plenty of time for them to grow back. By the time she was finished, two slender arches remained above my eyes.

Nikki talked as she worked. "Andrew, I'm going to do everything I can to make you delicate and feminine, and I know that's the last thing you want to hear. I know you didn't want to be in this situation, but neither did Duke. I have to ask you to swallow your pride and just go with it. Remember, when all this is over, no one will ever talk about this."

Nikki measured me, my height, waist, chest, stomach, and arms. "Most of these dresses are mine," said Nikki. "We're both blondes, so the color should be right. You're taller and thinner than me, so I'll have to do some alterations. Now let's get you dressed. Here's a nice little number."

The 'nice little number' was a sleeveless, backless gown, black and sequined. "No way!" I gasped.

"C'mon, give it a shot. Just step into the skirt here."

"It barely comes down to the middle of my thigh!"

"It's very chic."

"I don't want to be chic!"

Nikki smirked at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Nikki was busy stirring a small tub of some sort of cream. "Before you pull it up, let me try this." She then rubbed a small layer of the stuff over my bare nipples and surrounding area.

I giggled. "Hey, what gives?"

"It's a sort of cement. Don't worry, it comes right off with alcohol."

"I guess I know what you're going to cement there."

Nikki smiled and pulled out two foam rubber falsies. "You're a C-cup, girl!" She carefully affixed them to my chest, where the bonding agent held them tight.

"Will this work?" I asked dubiously.

"It should. That's a powerful cement. Without alcohol, your skin would come off sooner than those girls. Now let's tie you up." She lifted the front of the dress and tied it around my neck. My front now bulged out with very feminine curves, while my naked arms, shoulders, and back stood out whitely against the black material. Nikki walked around me, as if inspecting a used car.

"Hmmm...no. You can't pull it off."

"Told you."

"Oh, it's not that. It's just that I think you're going to need a girdle. That won't do with a backless dress."
"Thank God," I gasped. "Show a little less flesh."

Nikki wagged a finger at me. "Au contraire, mon cheri. You have simply beautiful arms and shoulders. We should show off your lovely features."

I began to get angry. "Nikki, that's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny. I'm trying to make you look like a woman. Don't get so defensive when I say you're pretty, because you are."

I held my tongue as I undressed. Nikki was busy sifting through her clothes. "Aha! I think we have a winner here."

***

The limousine's AC did little to block the humid Miami night. I took a swig of bottled water and tried not to sweat. On the seat next to me, Nikki talked on a cell phone, looking cute in her conservative, though strangely sexy, grey skirt and white blouse. Her long blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore horn-rimmed glasses.

I knew that in the front seat, behind the security partition, sat Duke. I hadn't really seen him since our wedding night. I glimpsed him briefly as I debarked the ship in Florida and was hustled into the limo. Now I sat, boiling and uncomfortable, ready to make my debutante debut.

"Okay, talk to you later," said Nikki, and hung up. "Andy, you've got to relax. It won't be that bad."

"Won't be that bad? Look at me!" The dress Nikki had picked out for me was black and body hugging. It covered me from my shoulders to my knees, leaving my bare arms and legs for everyone to see. No one would suspect a girdle and a padded bra were the reasons for my hourglass figure.

"You look great to me. I wish I was as pretty as you."

"You are as pretty as me! Prettier! Why don't you be Duke's date tonight? Tell them I'm sick."

Nikki giggled. "I'm fifteen years older than Duke."

"You're prettier than me."

Nikki patted my leg. "Andy, honey, I know you don't want to do this, but trust me, it won't be that bad. You know, if you stop thinking how miserable you'll be, you may just enjoy yourself."

I rolled my eyes.

The chauffeur's voice came over the intercom. "We're just about there, ladies."

I glanced through the tinted window. We were arriving at a country club, where some rich guy was entertaining some other rich fools. I had washed dishes at an affair like this once. I was not looking forward to being a part of one, and I certainly did not want to do it playing the part of a blushing bride.

We pulled into the circle drive in front of the mammoth building. A young man in a white jacket ran to open the door for us. He gingerly took Nikki's hand and helped her out of the car. I exited from the opposite door before he could be polite.

Duke soon stood next to me in the sultry Florida air, as the limo drove off. He held out his arm. "Shall we?" He was awkward, as if escorting a friend's wife. Or another man.

I certainly did not want to walk in on his arm, but I was not used to the heels Nikki insisted that I wear. Leaning against my husband unsteadily, we walked through the huge double doors. Nikki followed close behind.

When I worked the country club gig I had seen little besides the kitchen and staff entrance. In spite of my determination to be bitter and unimpressed, the setting took my breath away. The ballroom was bigger than an aircraft hangar (or at least it seemed to me). Along one wall ran a buffet table, crammed with all manner of delicacy. At the end a uniformed bartender poured champagne. On a stage in the front of the room a piano player and a harpist filled the air with delicate strains.
All the men, like Duke, were wearing white tuxedos. The ladies were all wearing what I knew were expensive dresses. There was not an ugly person among them. Best plastic surgery money can buy.

I suddenly felt like hyperventilating. Not so much because of the drag act; Nikki assured me I looked fine. It was because I didn't know how to handle myself in high society. Nikki had coached me how to act like a woman, but I never thought to ask her how to act rich! Luckily, she was there with me. She could pull me out of a jam.

We were soon approached by an attractive couple in their fifties. "Duke, old buddy, great to see you," said the man, a pleasant looking guy with grey hair, a solid build, and a nice smile, complete with capped teeth.

Duke shook his hand. "Nice to see you Steve, Jessica. You've met Nikki. Allow me to present my wife, Mrs. Andrea Greyson. Andrea, this is Steve and Jessica Muldoon, old friends of the family."

"Charmed," I whispered, wondering if people really said that outside of TV shows.

Steve gently took my hand and placed it near his lips, though spared me the indignity of kissing it. Jessica placed her cheek to mine and made a kissing noise. I took a sly look at her. She had to have been at least fifty, though her firm breasts, unlined skin, and jet black hair seemed to indicate someone closer to thirty. Money truly could buy beauty.

"Well," said Jessica, "I'm so pleased to finally meet this mystery woman of yours. We've heard simply so much about her."

Steve clapped Duke on the back. "Duke, I've got some intriguing information about an investment opportunity you may be interested in. What do you say we go over to the bar and discuss it?"

I was about to protest, when Nikki stepped in. "Good idea. Jessica and I can introduce Andrea around." Duke kissed my cheek as I tried not to grimace. Then he was gone.

Jessica took me by the hand and led me over to a group of women. They were mostly younger, twenties and thirties. Just before we reached them, a server approached us and whispered something into Nikki's ear.

She frowned. "Um, Andrea, there's an emergency phone call for me. I have to take it."

"They can call back," I hissed through clenched teeth.

"Please, I'll only be a moment."

Jessica took my arm. "Nonsense. I'll make introductions." She practically hustled me to the cluster of young women.
"Girls," she clucked, "I'd like you to meet Andrea, Duke's new bride. Andrea--" she then rattled off the names of a dozen women, names like Brittany, Margot, and Cecelia.

I sputtered hello. The girls stared at me, as if they expected me to say something else. By that time I was so flustered, I couldn't even comment about the weather.

Finally, Jessica broke the silence. "So Andrea, is this your first time at the Palms?"

"Excuse me?"

Jessica smiled an indulgent smile. "The Palms, dear. Have you ever been here before?"

Ah, that was the name of the country club. "No, it's my first time." My first time for a lot of things, wearing heels for instance.

Jessica smiled ingratiatingly. "Well dear, have you been to Miami?"

"Yes." I instantly regretted admitting it. How could I explain that Duke's young bride used to unload cargo ships here?

"Really?" She looked at me questioningly, as if I were lying. "And where did you stay? I enjoy the Ritz, myself."

"I stayed with friends." Couldn't she realize how uncomfortable I was? Why the third degree?

Jessica nodded. It might have just been my imagination, but she seemed to wink at another woman.

"And where else have you traveled to? Have you been to Paris? Greece? Courtney was just telling us how lovely it is this time of year." She indicated a platinum blonde who did nothing to pick up the strain of conversation.

"I haven't really traveled much," I mumbled. I wanted a drink.

"Well, I'm sure you've done loads of interesting thinks in your life. Duke's said so little about you. Your education, your family, your-- ahem, career." Several of the girls giggled at me.

It suddenly hit me. They weren't interested in Andrea, they wanted to humiliate her. Duke's white trash bride. The slutty little whore.

"Dear?" Jessica was asking. "Are you taking time off of school for your honeymoon? Where do you study?"

I suddenly felt like doing something I hadn't since I was a baby. I felt like crying. No one cries in an orphanage, it gets you nothing. Ditto on the streets. But as I stood there with my fake breasts and women's clothes, I wanted to bawl. These people wanted to degrade me. And I couldn't stop them.

Tears welled in my eyes. "I don't go to school." I looked around for Nikki, but couldn't see her.

Jessica cocked her head. "Why, darling, you look dreadful. Whatever is wrong?"

Just before the dam broke, just before I ran off tripping on my heels sobbing, something deep in my core shouted out. I had survived on the streets for years. I'd once nursed a knife wound with a package of Band Aids and a bottle of Jack. I'd gone days without eating. If that didn't make me cry, then this rich bitch sure as hell wouldn't.

I sniffled, then looked Jessica right in her Botox eyes. "Nothing's the matter. Nothing at all. Now let's see, you were asking about my past." I grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. "Well, I was born in an orphanage, miserable place, rats everywhere. Lived there till I was about twelve. Then I was in and out of foster care till I was sixteen." I fixed a hard grin on my face. Jessica was no longer smiling.

"I worked odd jobs after that. Waitressing, secretary, retail, you know, pay the bills."

Jessica tried to laugh, but it came off fake. A couple of the girls walked away from the crowd. I continued my tirade.
"I've never been to school, not even high school. I was born poor. And you know what, I guess all the money in the world can't buy me into your society. But--" I leaned in towards Jessica's face and whispered. "I love Duke, and apparently you're his friend, so I suggest you stop playing these fucking middle school games. You got that, you middle aged, crocodile-skinned horror?"

Jessica touched her palm to her chest and gasped. She then stormed off, followed by most of the crowd.

So, I'd blown it. Not half an hour into my first big wingding and I revert into trailer trash mode. So much for Duke's plan to make a lady out of me. I downed my drink in one gulp, then began to look around for Nikki, to inform her of the damage I'd done.

"You go, girl!" I was surprised to see a couple of the women from the group hadn't left. The girl who had spoken was black, about twenty years old, and extremely attractive. She was grinning at me.

"We've all been wanting to tell Jessica off for years. She's such an old windbag. Thank God someone had the guts."

"Well," I ducked my head, embarrassed, "it wasn't exactly a classy thing to do."

"Please, if I heard her tell me about 'you people' one more time, I'd break my heel off in her ass, pardon my French. My name's Mindy." I shook her delicate hand.

"I'm Jamie," said her companion. Jamie looked to be a teenager. Not bad looking, but rather overweight. Not grossly so, but enough to stand out in this crowd of anorexics.

"I'm Andrea," I introduced myself.

"Well Andrea," said Mindy, hands on hips, sizing me up. "What do you say we get out of here and have a real drink?"
I glanced around the ballroom. Couples were beginning pair off and dance.

"Lead the way."

***

Half an hour later the three of us were dangling our toes in the water of the empty country club pool, passing around a stolen bottle of wine, and exchanging life stories.

Mindy and Jamie impressed me. True, they had both been born into the blueblood society, but they didn't seem superficial at all. They did charity work, dated working class guys, took road trips to Vegas. Maybe it was because they never fit in with high society; Mindy because she was black, Jamie because she wasn't one of the 'beautiful people.'

"I know exactly how you feel," I told them, more than a little tipsy. "Ever since I married Duke, I feel like I'm living a lie, that I'm trying to be someone I'm not."

Mindy touched my shoulder. "Don't be like that. If you love Duke, then that's all that matters. Screw what anyone else thinks."

"Yeah, Duke--"

"You're lucky to have him," said Jamie. "He's a heck of a nice guy. God, what I wouldn't give for a nice guy--" She stared at the water. Mindy shot me a sad glance. Apparently Jamie's dating life wasn't going well.

"Ladies!" A middle-aged woman in a slinky dress appeared behind us. "I thought I might find you here. Everyone's dancing. C'mon!" My new friends got up to go.

"Do I have to?" I whispered to Mindy.

"I know you don't want to, but we really should."

So much for the reprieve. Back into the lion's den.

***

When we returned to the ballroom, everyone was twirling about the dance floor. A handsome guy in army dress blues took Mindy by the hand and led her off. Jamie smiled sadly and walked over to the buffet.

"May I?" It was Duke. He held out his hand.

"I can't dance. Especially not in these shoes."

"I can lead. C'mon, it won't be that bad."

Duke took one of my hands in his and placed the other around my waist. I did not enjoy how close I was getting to him. With surprising gentleness for a man, he began to move me across the floor. One-two-three, turn, one-two-three, turn--

"Andrea," whispered Duke, after some time. "I heard about what you said to Jessica."

Now two weeks ago I would have laughed in his face, and bragged about how I'd insulted his prissy friend. Today, I ducked my head.

"I'm sorry, Duke. She was making fun of me."

"I'm not sorry. I've been wanted to say that for years. I think everyone has. We're so used to her being queen bee that everyone takes her shit. It took an outsider to put her in her place."

I laughed. "Well--"

Duke looked around to make sure no one was in earshot. "How are you holding up?"

"Not too well. I keep wanting to scratch my balls." Duke pulled away from me, ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry, Duke, but what did you expect? Make a homeless guy into a classy wife? It sounds like a bad movie!"

"Would it help to say you're doing great? Everyone here's impressed."

"They are not."

"They are so. They think it's amusing I have such a--how did they describe you? A 'sassy' wife."

"Duke, if you'd called me sassy a month ago, I'd have broken your nose."

"You seem to have a penchant for that." We danced in silence for a while.

"Duke?" I asked a few minutes later. "Do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Ask Jamie to dance." I had seen her leaning against the wall, sadly picking at a sandwich on the table beside her.

"Why?"

"Because no one else will. It'd make her night."

He frowned. "I'm sure she's a nice girl--"

I deliberately ground my heel into his foot. "But she's too fat? Hey, at least she's really a woman. Do it."

Duke twirled me around suddenly, and passed me to an older fellow without a partner. I bit my lip. I had thought if Duke danced with Jamie, it would leave me free.

My new partner was a gentleman who kept his distance. He asked about my life, though in a much more interested, thoughtful way than Jessica had. I soon realized I'd have to compose some sort of history for Andrea, so as not to get my stories confused.

Across the dance floor I saw Duke and Jamie cutting a rug. Jamie was beaming. Before I knew it a younger man cut in on them. I don't think she sat down for the rest of the evening.

I was passed off to another guy, a boring young man named Todd who went on and on about sculling (whatever in heck that was). Nikki was dancing too. When the song ended, she quickly took my hand and we ducked into the lady's room.

It was the cleanest restroom I'd ever seen, though I wasn't sure if that was because ladies were cleaner than men, or because rich people were cleaner than poor. After a quick reconnaissance we realized we were alone.

"So how are you doing?" she asked.

"Fine, no thanks to you."

"Hey, I only left for two minutes. When I came back you were gone." She took out a compact and started to touch up my face. "So you've been making quite an impression."

"So you heard about my cattiness?"

"Yeah, but not just that. Everyone thinks you're impressive. Pretty, and spunky."

"Duke called me sassy. I'm not sure what's worse."

"Andrea..."

"Andy!"

"Andy, you're doing great. After a little more practice--"

"Nikki, don't go there. Don't try to pressure me now, or we go home."

She nodded and finished touching me up.

***

"Andy? Andy honey, wake up. We're here."

I took a moment to get my bearings. Ah, I was in the back of the limo. I noticed with embarrassment that I had been sleeping on Nikki's shoulder.

Nikki opened the door and helped me get out. We were at the docks. Duke's yacht was along side of us, the gangplank lowered. Duke was nowhere in sight.

As I sleepily boarded the ship, I thought about the night. Telling Jessica off. Chatting with Mindy and Jamie. The food. The music. The dancing. Staying out until three, sipping champagne and laughing.

Who needs it? I thought. Who needs those rich punks, with their fake friendship and their purchased style? Not me.

I bid Nikki goodnight and slipped into my cabin. Gratefully I kicked off my heels and unstrapped myself from the corsets, the sex-hiding thing, and, with the help of some alcohol, the falsies. I washed my face, and finally looked like a man again.

As I crawled into bed, a funny thought hit me. Tonight was the first night in a long time where I hadn't worried about my food, about my safety about where to sleep. It wasn't worth acting like a girl, of course. But still, secretly, it was sort of nice.

***

The next morning I awoke to find Nikki seated at my bedside, beaming down at me. I started, then pulled the covers over my mostly naked frame.

"Don't you knock?"

"Hey, it's just us girls here."

"Don't start that."

"Sorry, honey. But you handled yourself really well last night."

I sat up and pulled on my robe. "Thank you, I guess. Um, did Duke mention anything?"

"Yes. He said you acted tolerably. Given the circumstances, it's high praise."

I had ducked into the bathroom and was brushing my teeth. "So what brings you by?"

"Andrew--it's time for you to make a decision."

I spat. "Does it have to be today?"

Nikki joined me in the bathroom. "Yes. Within the hour. We ship out and set sail for Spain. Duke needs to know if you're coming."

"Explain my choices again."

"It's simple. We drop you off in Miami with some clothes and a bit of cash. The press finds out Duke's fiancée is not on her honeymoon cruise, they start digging, put two and two together--you'd be the new tabloid sensation. The man bride. Or, you embark on a fabulous round the world cruise and end up a millionaire. Seems like an easy choice."

I was combing my hair. "Maybe if you didn't make it sound so easy, I'd take the offer more seriously."

"Maybe if you didn't make it sound so miserable, you'd have an easier time making up your mind. What's keeping you from grabbing this great opportunity? Your dignity?"

"I lost that long ago. I'm homeless, remember."

"You're got more dignity than most people I know. Say yes, Andrew."

"I can't do it, Nikki, I'm sorry."

"Then let me make you a counter proposal. It'll take us almost a month to cross the Atlantic. Let's spend that time with you in training. When we get to Spain, if you don't feel natural in your role as Andrea, then we call it quits. We'll throw in a flight back to the US."

I sized her up. "No BS? What's the catch?"

"You'll have to live as Andrea full time. No whining, no slacking off. C'mon, sweetie, let me make a woman out of you."

There was something charming in the way she said that, something that made me trust her.

"Okay. I'm in for the Atlantic run. But you have to do something for me. Something big."

"What's that?"

"Be my friend."

"Of course! Why would that be a big favor?"

I looked down at the sink. "Because I've never had one."

Continued