The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 19

A few weeks later, Rachel found herself at the Thornbury getting ready for the grand opening at SFMOMA. She decided she needed more dressing space and descended to suite 1442. Down there, she realized she had been so busy for the past week that she had forgotten to update her list of remaining days on her phone. Levant had been away and had directed the architects, Ricky and Judy from Mark Cavagnero Associates, to contact Rachel for any questions regarding the style of their new home. Their company did a lot of work for Levant and wanted to create "the perfect statement experience" for Rachel. Apparently, perfect statement experiences required spending a long time looking at presentations.

Afterward, Rachel also spent time in the gym with Peter. She went to Robert Soto DDS for some cosmetic dental work. Although the dental work was permanent, Rachel had agreed to it as it would improve Denver's appearance. She told herself that there was no such thing as "women's teeth."

Charlie dropped the news of the opening at SFMOMA while shopping at Re. Sam had just arrived when Rachel was trying on a new dress. Sam had said the dress was too sexy for a big gala opening. "I thought you said no dress can be too sexy, Ariadne," Charlie countered.

Ariadne was Sam's middle name, a result of having an artistic mother and a father with a penchant for classical literature. Sam used it as an alias when online. Charlie used it when referencing anything Sam said about herself.

"Yes, but not in this case. It's a big opening. The press will be there--KRON4, ABC7, the whole lot. It'll be full of celebrities, cameras, and screaming fans," Sam said.

Upon hearing this, Rachel began to feel nervous. She worried that her mom or grandpa might see her on TV if the event was televised.

"Have you tried asking what kind of dress she wants?" Sam asked Charlie.

"Levant wants a dress that says 'I'm with him, bitches, suffer,'" Charlie replied. Contractually, she was right--Levant had the final say. This was a significant monetary donation, and he would expect extensive media coverage. After all, it was his money that would be used for the dress.

"But what do you want?" Sam inquired.

Rachel paused for a moment, then revealing her self. said. "I want a dress that burns it's self into the retinas of every woman present. One that cannot be surpassed in the following years because I won't be here next year. I want a dress that shouts, 'He's with me, bitches, suffer.'"

Charlie glanced at Sam. "You heard her."

Sam had crossed her hands and snorted slightly. Rachel remembered it and thought she might try it some time with Levant.

With Mimi fussing Rachel got dressed. The dress started with a large, open collar around the shoulders. It was a vivd lustrous black with a vivid violet silk lining, which was partly visible, giving a hint of color inside. The edge of the dress was covered in hand-placed gold leaf, which Rachel discovered had also partly stuck to her skin.

Between Rachel's time with her doctor, therapist Dr Cooper, femininity coach, personal trainer, hairdresser, trips to nightclubs, and seeing everyone, she had only slept a few nights with Charlie. That said Charlie was back to her old ways. After much complaining Rachel had finger fucked Charlie up her rear button. Charlie had purred like a cat to the attention. Charlie had exhibited her self with a dildo up her brown flower a few times. In the last session they were both quite high and drunk Rachel had caved in and ended up going up Charlie's ass. On the second attempt, Rachel had hit Charlie's G-spot. It was very intense laying on her side being in crammed into Charlie's hole. Charlie was so tight around Denver's dick he had cum pretty early. Charlie had adored it.

Today, Rachel stood looking at herself in a full-length mirror in the bathroom of the penthouse at the Thornbury. The hot, sweet steam warmed her rounding behind. It was the late afternoon of the big gala opening at SFMOMA. Rachel was naked except for her freshly applied gaff. She had been Rachel twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for nearly a calendar month. Denver was becoming yesterday's memory.

Rachel looked at her untouched face. Even after only a few weeks on Aldactone and estrogen, she had already seen changes. Her face was just slightly different, her skin was visibly changing, and her nipples were tender. Doctor Grant had told her it would take months for anything significant to happen, but here it was. When told Rachel had been glad about the gradual speed, so this more rapid transition worried her. Rachel's hair already felt softer as it grew. Looking back at her photo diary, she could see the changes. It was hard to pinpoint the photo, but one pre-makeup morning shot looked boyish, the next looked girlish. It was hard to define the subtle difference between the two, but it was undeniably there. Something in the eyes, Rachel thought.

In the mornings, when she put on her makeup, Rachel noticed that her skin had changed. It felt thinner, more translucent, and her pores were smaller and easier to cover with foundation. She also noticed that she didn't have to shave every day. Rachel stood and took a photo of herself tucked but naked in the full-length mirror. It was part of the record she kept. Flipping backwards through the slides, she could see changes compared to the first day. Her hips were getting rounder even without the silicone pads.

Her shoulders and arms looked thinner and rounder. She had done some weights when she had started with Peter, the personal trainer. Now she couldn't move them, so she switched to lighter ones. Dr. Grant had said her strength would go back if she stopped the tablets, but that word 'if' was the worst. There was a faint shadow on her chest suggesting Rachel's breasts were gradually appearing. Her areolas were more visibly expanding, but they didn't show the tenderness she was feeling.

Rachel told her psychologist, Dr Cooper, that she didn't feel any different. Privately, she still felt like Denver. Cooper's response was simple - there was no Denver or Rachel, they were the same person, so obviously, there was no change. Rachel wondered if Dr. Cooper was a good choice. He was clearly more used to handling trans people. Despite knowing about the contract, he spoke from the assumption that Rachel had started her transition to the future her. Rachel did his gender and other tests, and it was useful to have someone to confide in. The downside was that he was so used to dealing with trans women that sometimes he would undermine her certainties and bring new worries about her self.

When Rachel thought about her changes, these weeks seemed like a prolog to a longer darker chapter of her life. Her body was engaging in small skirmishes for a larger physical war for possession of her flesh. Her nipples always felt tender, she had even found herself crying, which was new. Everything felt corse and rough on her skin. It might have been the hormone patches or the near constant tucking but Denver's balls seemed to be shrinking. It wasn't a problem to tuck away any more. She practically spent all of her waking time tucked.

Dr Grant, had said she could organise sperm storage if Rachel felt it was a problem. Like Eckstein, Grant normally dealt with trans women who knew where and why they were going. Grant thought Rachel was being tentative, wanting to make sure she had the opportunity to return, not that it was part of the contract. At first Rachel had dismissed the sperm storage at first but wondered if it was in fact, a good precaution. All that tucking wasn't going to help things, even if just for another ten months.

The big change would begin when they put the breast implants in. Levant still insisted on them, as it was stated in the contract, and he didn't want to wait for any HRT breasts to appear, which was coming soon enough. Rachel had been taken to visit some of the Bay's best cosmetic surgeons, who had given her a choice of shape and size. She had held a few in her hand and felt the silicone's softness, like living flesh. Douglas had accompanied her, and he apparently liked big breasts and couldn't wait. Rachel asked about the reversibility and the noticeability of the scar afterward, and they reassured her it was fine.

As part of the breast surgery, they had visited a medical group that also specialized in transgender cosmetic surgery. While they explained things to Rachel, Levant had flicked through their thick catalog. The breast surgery was not a problem, but they oversold their ground breaking confirmation surgery, complete with the promise that Rachel would still be able to orgasm as a woman. They could do everything from jawline "feminization" to simple nose jobs. While they talked, Rachel felt Levant staring at the page, lifting his eyes to her, and then returning to the page. Rachel found herself clinging to the reversibility clause in the contract.

After the flight to the new house, things had gone back to a kind of normal. Levant would disappear on business, fly in, and they would have dinner or something and go out. Levant would leave, and Charlie would be around afterward. Charlie had slowly degenerated back into her kinkier practices but promised she had learned her lesson. Charlie was around but often too busy to see Rachel when Levant wasn't visiting. They did see each other for coffee, occasional lunch, the odd shopping trip, but always as Rachel. Rachel made up for it by moonlighting and going to clubs, and seeing people she knew. The downside was she had to be more Rachel than ever.

Recently Levant hung around more, partly for work partly to overseeing Rachel's mother of all makeovers. He was such great fun to be with. After a morning of breast surgery visits, Levant took Rachel to see a game company called Fifth Column Games he was thinking of buying. While Levant was talking to the CEO, Rachel was taken by a handful of attentive tech people around their offices. Some already knew of her, but all of them were impressed with her knowledge of games. After the tour and demos, they stopped and talked about games on sofas. For Rachel, it was lovely being the center of so much attention. It was surprising to find out how close the game company's headquarters was to Thornbury. They left, and Rachel really wished Levant would buy the company. She had received so many invites to visit it could become part of her leisurely routine.

The night of the opening, Charlie rushed around, this time she had been around from the beginning. She was also coming with Levant to the grand opening. Rachel shook herself away from the mirror. Charlie had styled her hair with a dark extension to glamorize the boyish haircut she still sported. To Rachel, Charlie was always a vision of sophistication.

Rachel looked in the mirror again intensely. The Botox injections had really plumped out her lips, but subtly more Bay less Hollywood way as they said.

"You okay?" Charlie said, walking in with a new evening dress.

"Yeah. Sure," Rachel said. "I guess I'm just a bit tired of interviewing new staff for the house all day. Is it just me, or are they all gay?"

Charlie shrugged. "We can't discriminate by law. We don't control who applies. The advert was circulated internally in the Thornbury hotels group, as we want people who we know are loyal. If anyone outside the inner circle finds out, we have problems. To be honest, if every LGBT person died overnight, the entire hospitality sector would probably crash. The key is we want people around you who won't tell. Even if they find out, they are less likely to out you."

"You could have said, 'Hey, this is San Francisco,'" Rachel said.

"Yeah..I'm practicing my mansplaining," Charlie said, looking at herself in the mirror with Rachel.

This was enough to distract Rachel from her discomfort about being surrounded by half the Castro district in her future house. The thought of them being so near gave her the shivers. She felt gauche for feeling that way. "Gauche" was a new word her voice therapist introduced, and it felt right. It practically defined Rachel.

Rachel looked over and said, "I feel guilty causing such a problem. Life was so much simpler when I would appear, have dinner, and disappear."

Charlie grabbed Rachel and said, "Simpler, but to be honest, not as much fun. I like having you around more. I know you're worried. It's fine; we just have to get through this evening and then come back and have the mother of all sessions."

Rachel nearly shivered and asked, "Why do I have to go to this dumbass art opening anyway?"

Charlie smiled and rested her hand on Rachel's hips. "Because you don't get to open a huge exhibition of Cindy Sherman's work all the time. This is a gala ball, and Levant wants to show off what a patron of the arts he is."

"And show me to his golf buddies," Rachel said, feeling super vulnerable. "Them I'm not so worried about. It's the wives. They will, what does Mimi call it? Clock me, sooner or later."

"Clock" was another new word. Rachel felt she was living in the world's strangest one-person university. "Clock" as a trans term meaning when someone CIS person guessed what you were inside biologically, not what you looked like outside.

Charlie put her arm around Rachel. "Look, it's going to be fine," Charlie said. "When we get back, I promise you a fantastic time."

"You don't know it's going to be fine. They are going to clock me. Rumors will spread. People will talk. Douglas will lose his reputation, his company will collapse, everyone will lose their jobs, and it's all going to be my fault," Rachel said on the edge of tears.

"It's going to be fine," Charlie said. "You're going to be fine."

Rachel pulled herself together. "Yeah, ignore me. The doctor said it's a side effect of the estrogen. It will go away."

"How's your grandfather doing?" Charlie said.

Rachel had received a text from Mon this evening.

"The new hospital is going well. The surgery was OK, but he's old and taking a long time to recover," Rachel said hopefully.

With that, there was the sound of the hair and makeup artists arriving. Rachel said she was happy to do it herself or have Beth, but Douglas wanted the best. It was a huge moment in the social calendar of San Francisco. Being seen in the right dress as you arrived was like attending the Oscars in LA. Douglas wanted to go all out, so that required a professional makeup person.

Two chairs sat ready. Charlie was coming along to this one, so they would both get the full treatment. Rachel had met Abby, the professional makeup artist, for a consultation when hiring her. Rachel had started introducing herself, only to be told by Abby she didn't need an introduction as Abby already followed her on Instagram. Abby, who worked in the movie industry and knew endless numbers of stars, had said, "This was a huge opportunity for her." For Rachel, that had been the most scary statement of the day.

"Believe me, Douglas is not going to lose his reputation. Far from it," Charlie said as Abby got ready next door.

Rachel looked over. "You can't be sure?"

Charlie smiled and handed over a large soft dressing gown. "Actually, I can be. You see, Douglas has already put a court injunction on a newspaper that is spreading a rumor about you."

Rachel's mouth went dry in shock. "Oh fuck, people have found out about me already?"

Charlie almost laughed. "No. Apparently, you are Kurt Cobain's daughter and you inherited his millions in secret. Meanwhile, you spend most of your time when not having dinner with Douglas, hunting paedophiles with a team of hunters using elaborate deception techniques. Apparently, that's how you met. You were looking for funding from him."

"That's super crazy. I mean, it doesn't make sense," Rachel said, almost laughing. "How does stuff like this get started?"

"No idea. Yeah. Apparently, the pictures of shoes are secret messages to your fellow hunters across America. Doesn't matter, Douglas slapped an injunction on the papers. He can be very litigious, and they know it. So if the false rumor spreads of you being a man, he will do the same thing. People won't believe that either. They will chalk it up to the same rumor mill. It's an old method, like Winston Churchill said, 'Truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies.'"

"So it won't get in the newspapers or on TV," Rachel said.

"He owns some of the local newspapers. The owners know each other. They all have stuff on each other's families, but as a professional courtesy, they don't let stuff about other proprietors go out. They wouldn't do it to each other. Feel better?" Charlie said.

Rachel smiled, "Yeah, a little. How do you know all this?"

"Volt told Douglas about the rumors. Then Douglas had a meeting with his lawyers. He told me to prep you in case you get some bizarre questions. Don't confirm or deny anything, just say no comment," Charlie paused. With Charlie's clean short hair and no makeup, she looked like a teenage boy at this point. Her expression wasn't one any boy had given Denver.

"You know, I'm really sorry for getting you into all this," Charlie said.

"Don't be. If it wasn't for you, my grandad would be dead by now," Rachel said. She noticed she said "granddad," not "grand-pa." The English accent was settling.

"Thanks. That creates a new perspective for me. What I was going to say is, I'm glad you're around. I'm really looking forward to later. I wish I could spend more time with you," Charlie said, taking Rachel's manicured hand.

"Are you okay?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, sorry. I am emotionally all over the place," Rachel said as Abby returned.

Charlie looked over, "Stop apologizing, or are you doing that to sound English?"

"No comment," Rachel said.

***

Rachel looked out through the tinted window of the black Range Rover to the entrance of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. She wore a huge diamond necklace around her neck. Before leaving Levant had turned up with a security guard who carried a box that looked like it contained nuclear targeting codes. He opened it to reveal an ornate set of jewels. He refused to say how much it cost, but Twitter suggested over half a million dollars was sitting around her neck and hanging from her ears. It belonged to his family, and he said it was on loan for the night. Rachel felt insanely special wearing them and had trotted along with Levant's hand on her hip as she got carefully into the car.

Levant had said how much loved the dress as Rachel knew he would.

"It's everything I want in a dress" Levant had said while Charlie sat down.

Rachel looked over "what is everything you want in a dress?" She asked doing her seat belt.

"You" Levant said as the car pulled off.

They arrived amidst a speckled thunderstorm of flashes from the red carpet leading up to double doors set between the black and white striped columns of the post-modernist spectacle. The road had been blocked off, and the carpet stretched out across the street from Yerba Buena Gardens. On either side were enthusiastic crowds behind barriers, arms reaching to the heavens like the spears of an army, each holding a phone out. Before them, more professional photographers stood with powerful lenses. Just behind the barriers, some local TV and YouTube influencers stood babbling to cameras. Rachel's confidence at not being spotted crumbled.

"Fuck, no one said anything about a red carpet," Rachel exclaimed, her heart beating twice as fast. Every fear of exposure was compressed into this tiny space. She could feel its cold hand squeezing her heart like a lemon, "Please, please don't make me do it."

Levant was dressed in his tuxedo and appeared very calm and self-assured at the event. "You'll be fine," Levant said reassuringly. "It's a big opening. You can handle it. I even told George Clooney that you would be here tonight."