Dean was panicking. He had an interview in town for a job as a reporter, and they’d suddenly asked him to come in in a suit. He hadn’t even got one!

He’d asked his friend, Sally, to help out, as she temped in a clothing store.

Sally said she’d put something together. He had no idea that Sally was in on things…

He turned up at Sally’s, and they started getting him ready. She brough out this smart, neat charcoal grey suit jacket. Then she brought out an ivory blouse, and a matching charcoal grey skirt…

“Hang on a minute! This is a woman’s suit! What the hell…?”

Kissing him, Sally just said, “Trust me…”

“No way!”, said Dean. “I’m not being seen dead in that.”

“You do realise what job you’re being interviewed for, don’t you?”, said Sally. “Women’s fashion, chief reporter. The job comes with a wardrobe, and you’re expected to model some of the designs and report on them. Besides, the job application is in the name of Ms Deanna Moore.”

“How the hell…?”

“I hacked your email”, said Sally, sheepishly. “I wanted you to get the job.”

“Screw this for a lark!”

Dean got up and stomped off…

Dean didn’t go to the interview. Still, the room was paid for the week, so he might as well relax.

He went down to the bar and ordered himself a drink. He was busy drowning his sorrows when a stunning woman slid onto the stool next to him at the bar.

“Whatever he’s having”, Sheena, the woman said. “Make it a double.”

“Oh dear”, Dean said. “One of those days?”

“Oh yes”, Sheena said, ruefully. “Came all this way to interview someone for a job, and she pulled out at the last minute. A real pain, too; she was just what she wanted.”

Dean blinked. “Same here, except I had to pull out because someone ‘moved the goalposts’.”

“Hate it when that happens”, said Sheena. “Now we’ve both got to start looking again. What do you do, by the way?”

“I’m a reporter”, said Dean.

“I’m a sub-editor at a magazine”, said Sheena. “Small world…”

Dean and Sheena ended up chatting for quite some time. Sheena was very astute; she twigged part-way through their conversation that Dean was her ‘prospective hire’, but he was obviously a man. Well, sort of; he was way too polite and good-natured to be a typical male reporter.

She decided to take a chance.

“You couldn’t help me out, could you?”, she said. “I’d hate to come all this way and go back with nothing. Do you fancy temping for me? I’ll pay you the going rate of our staff reporters.”

Dean perked up.

“I’d love to! Trouble is, I’m not really up to date with most industries and news. What subject?”

“Fashion”, said Sheena…

Dean jumped at the chance. He’d managed to get a foot in the door on his own merits. Sheena was happy as well; she’d got the person that she had come for to agree to the job.

“Only one thing; do you mind using a pen name? Women aren’t going to take fashion advice and tips from a man; it’s just not done. Never mind whether you know the subject or not. Men’s fashion, fine. Make it look like we’ve got a brother and sister writing team?”

“Ok”, said Dean. “Funnily enough, my friend said the same thing. She even came up with a name for me; ‘Deanna Moore’.”

Now Sheena knew she’d definitely got the right person. She smiled…

Dean and Sheena spent the night at the hotel (in separate rooms!) then left for her work the next day. Luckily, Sheena’s office produced more than one title, otherwise Dean would have realised who he was about to work for.

The first complication came at the end of the first week, when Dean was expecting to get paid for his first article. The problem was, the first one had been on women’s fashion, and it was in the name of Deanna Moore, so that’s who the HR people put on the payroll…

“Sorry about this”, Sheena said. “I forgot to tell them that Deanna was a working name only; they’ve set her up as a freelancer. We’ll have to set up a bank account in her name so you can get paid.”

This was eventually done after a lot of work, and Sheena paid ‘Deanna’.

The next complication was all the Work ID Cards were also as Deanna. As far as the firm was concerned, Dean didn’t work there at all. This also caused issues when he was working late one night; Security wouldn’t let him leave the building without checking with Sheena.

Things went downhill from there…

“I honestly don’t know what to do”, said Sheena, one day. “I thought this was going to be easy; now, I’ve either got HR on my back for paying two people one person’s wages, or I’m being told to fire you as you’re not pulling your weight.”

“How can I!”, Dean wailed. “90% of the stories are women’s fashion. Deanna’s territory. I wish we’d never started this…!”

Sheena just held him. Gradually, the shaking subsided.

“You’re afraid of turning into Deanna”, Sheena said, suddenly. “Why? Did you keep getting told to grow up and pull yourself together by your father?”

Dean stared at her. “How the hell could you know that?”

“Because mine did the same to me. Just before I transitioned. Five years ago, I was Shane Hanson, college dropout. Then the boss here gave me a chance because he saw how good I was when I really started living the part. My job was also female oriented, but I accepted it a lot easier than you. Thus, Sheena Hanson, Sub-Editor, was born. It’s ok to be scared. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“You want me to be Deanna, don’t you?”, Dean said, eventually. He was also starting to feel the part.

“Yes.”

“Ok, let’s see what we can find in the fashion samples in my size, shall we? Also, have we got any wigs and makeup in stores? By the way, you’re doing the makeover. You are so gorgeous you must be getting it right.”

“Come on kiddo”, said Sheena, with a smile, “let’s see what we can find…”

Taking an early lunch, the pair wandered off into the stores…

Later that afternoon, there were gasps as the ‘new girl’ walked in.

Deanna was walking like she owned the place. She looked the part, too. The dark crushed raspberry coloured dress hugged her curves beautifully, and she walked perfectly on the three-inch heels. The silver belt round her waist really added to the look, as did the pearl necklace. Her blonde hair was almost down to her waist, and her face was perfectly made up. She also had a little black clutch bag.

“Deanna!”, said Sheena, coming out of her office. “Glad you could make it in to meet everyone.”

“No problem, darling”, said Deanna, smiling. “I’d do anything for you…!”