The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 23

Within seconds, Rachel heard Douglas ascending the oak steps up the spiral staircase leading towards the nook.

"Rachel," Douglas said. With a tone her mother had when she was late for church.

"Hi," Rachel said, "I'm sorry I thought you were off."

"I was in my office" Douglas said "Couple of things, Lucy reminded me that you've been forgetting something that was in the contract, and I might have some good news."

Rachel thought back to the contract. It ran into a number of pages. The sleeping in the same room was the big one. She had hit her weight and size target, mostly thanks to Peter, the personal trainer.

"Err.." Rachel said, "Sure I just..."

Lucy poked at her cheek from behind Levant's back.

Rachel smiled "I remember". One of Levant's last minute riders was cheek kissing in greeting by this time. No biggy.

"How could I forget," Rachel said.

She was in a good mood after realising that Levant had slept through her climb down the day before. Charlie told her that lots of men kiss each on the cheek abroad. This shouldn't be a problem. She had even rehearsed this with Charlie. Rachel got up and wished she had larger pumps. Levant was quite tall, and Denver was normally the last chosen for basketball practice at school. Getting up she kissed Levant's cheek and felt his stubble and beard.

"Good," said Levant. "Let's not forget. Now for the good news. I was thinking... would you be willing to extend your stay by a month to go to Italy?"

"Well, I've already missed Thanksgiving at home due to the penalty, so sure, why not?" Rachel replied. It seemed he had remembered that. Hunter would definitely owe her for this. Standing quite close to Levant, she had to look up at him.

Levant smiled, nearly laughing. He had a pleasant laugh. "Well, if you're so eager to go, how about sooner rather than later... but you still do an extra month?"

Rachel knew she had to sound both resentful and pleased. "An encore month sounds okay. We can travel around Italy, and you mentioned Qatar? It sounds exotic. How soon is 'sooner'?" she asked.

Levant looked down. "I was thinking now?"

As he spoke, Peter arrived behind Lucy. He was dressed in dark sunglasses and a smart black suit, the kind that could conceal a small handgun without showing any bulges. It was the suit he wore when acting as a bodyguard. Following behind him was Jerry, one of Levant's personal bodyguards in the same suit.

"Now? Now, this very second now? What about packing? I have an appointment at the hairdresser's..." Rachel exclaimed, realizing she would miss meeting up with Samantha and Hunter.

Levant appeared unconcerned. "We have staff for that. Mimi can handle the packing. They can either pack for us or we can order things and have them delivered to the villa."

Strangely enough, Rachel's mind wandered to the games she was halfway through playing. The thought was quickly followed by thoughts of Hunter and Sam.

"Um, spontaneous. Yeah, okay, I'll get my passport," she added.

"You forget I have it," Levant reminded her.

"Wow, okay, let's go," Rachel said enthusiastically to cover her apprehension, kissing a very pleased Levant on the cheek once again. They moved as a group towards the helipad.

"You remember that guy, Hunter?" Levant said.

"No," Rachel lied. "Is he one of your business associates? Or is he part of the staff? I only know their first names, and half of those are made up."

"Hunter, the FBI agent, Hunter," Levant clarified as he picked up his pace through the living room, passing the island kitchen.

"Oh, the agent guy. Yeah, I remember him," Rachel said.

Suddenly, Levant changed direction. The building was a large complex and not well laid out. Rachel knew all the shortcuts in the house. They emerged past the stables and walked swiftly to the helicopter pad.

"Apparently, he got hold of some of my emails. Some traitor leaked them to him," Levant revealed as they approached the helicopter.

Rachel looked up and noticed she was walking with Peter and James following behind.

"Poor you," Rachel sympathized. "Is that bad?"

"Apparently, he's putting together search warrants. It's all a farce, hardly worth the paper they're written on. They'll never hold up in court," Levant said.

Rachel struggled to keep up as he rushed. "Hey, I'm in heels. What's the problem? He can't catch you. You have nothing to hide. You're not doing anything wrong," Rachel assured, making sure not to add, "are you?" at the end.

"You have to understand these people, Cinnamon. If they don't like you, they don't need real evidence to make things difficult," Levant said louder as they reached the helicopter door. "They can fabricate things. They do it all the time. They hate my success. They hate hard work. He was spotted by Volk last night sneaking around during the Party. Then he appears with a warrant. The point is, there's a mole in my organization feeding them information, I think I know who it is."

"Hey, hang on. I need my handbag. I'll be second," she said, stopping.

Levant looked down at Rachel and grabbed her hand "We are late for the flight. We need to go now. I can get you a dozen handbags in Italy. Get in the chopper, Rachel. Now."

Levant could be telling her the truth, or he had figured out she was the mole, and he was going to take her up in the helicopter to lose her over the sea. Or this was a test to see if she was the mole. Rachel knew his tone of voice. It was the one you didn't argue with.

"OK, if you insist," Rachel said. If she made a huge fuss, Levant might guess it was her. The helicopter was on the pad, the engine already ready to take off. They bent over and walked towards it. Rachel wondered if Levant had figured out it was her. Had he clocked her as the mole?.

She stepped forward to the helicopter, wondering if these were the last steps she would take on solid ground. She looked up at James and Peter behind her. There was no escape. There was no choice, and she stepped up.

**********

Sitting in his private helicopter, they didn't talk during the trip. Rachel looked out as they followed the coast in. Every time they moved over water, she tensed up.

Eventually, they landed near Levant's personal jet at the airport. She was never so grateful for her stiletto heel to touch the ground. Levant held her hand as she got down. As she left the helicopter, she was met by Charlie carrying a small case.

"I can't come with you, but I packed this for you. It has your medications, phone charger, your favourite gaff tape, your perfume, lipstick, you know, the bare essentials," Charlie said, then moved closer. "I have to be honest, Logan has a part in a Netflix series and is coming over for three months for filming. I just heard you've extended for a month? I thought it would be all over by the time he arrived. My Logan is okay if you want to come around one night. He's okay with that, but he would like to watch us. Anyway, I know about your needs. I just wanted to say if you wanted to have sex with some Italian girls, I wouldn't be offended."

Rachel looked over and tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "I don't speak Italian, plus I mean who could I trust?"

Charlie looked around then leaned in "Just so you know, your trainer Peter is hot for you. All those days sweating with you lodged in his head. He doesn't want to say anything because he doesn't want to lose his job. Not the best choice from your preference point of view, but he's close, discreet, knows your secret, and is okay with it. And he's great in bed."

"How do you know?" Rachel said.

"I got drunk and bored at your housewarming," Charlie said, smiling with their faces nearly touching. Rachel grinned devilishly back.

Rachel looked up. "Will he let me... you know?" she asked.

Charlie looked down in a patronizing manner. "He hasn't had his Unicorn party yet. You know that. It's still down there, slightly dusty but there. He might not do that for everyone, but the opportunity to have sex with Rachel Price... he worships you. He would make exceptions for you. Understand? Just be clear with him about what you like. Oh, if you miss me, I've left a present in your bag from Paris. You can think of me when you're pleasuring yourself."

"Thanks," said Rachel standing up. "Your the only thing which keeps me sane in this mad world".

"You'll be fine. You being a little more crazy would be a good thing."

Rachel regretted not being able to get it up every time. Charlie's French toy was the only way to reliably have an orgasm. After Charlie had goaded her Rachel admitted that Rachel's orgasms where larger than Denvers and more likely to come in packs. The occasional time she managed to cum as Denver would was the only slender thread tying her back to normality. Life as Denver felt like an reincarnation flashback. Like it happened to someone else.

"Miss Price. Miss Price. Rachel," Lucy said, coming up and trying to take the case from her. "Mr. Levant says we have to leave now. I mean now."

Rachel lifted the case up. Of all the things, the case calmed Rachel down the most. Why pack it if you were going to silence her?

"Bye," Rachel said, kissing Charlie goodbye on the cheek.

"I'll see you again. You have fun in Italy, ciao" Charlie shouted as Rachel walked away.

********

Within a few minutes of takeoff, Rachel got Levant alone and demanded to know what was going on.

Levant shrugged. "We got word the FBI was going up the coast. They had a warrant to search the asylum. The judge was an old friend, said his hands were tied and he could help out more if he was seen to let this happen."

"Oh," said Rachel.

"I was going to leave you behind, but if they arrested you, they could have strip-searched you. You know what I mean?" Levant said.

"Oh fuck", Rachel said, realising.

Ever since all the wild, fake rumours surrounding her, followed by Levant's court cases, a few people had tried to tell the papers that Rachel was a man. They had been dismissed as part of the wild, stupid conspiracies surrounding Rachel Price. The police, on the other hand, might not be so pleasant. Rachel's therapist had told her that transgender women normally get put in men's prisons. Denver's fingerprints were on record from when he was a kid. The police would find out who she really was. They would ask his mother to check. They couldn't keep something like that a secret. They would be believed. Rachel's mother would then find out. The whole neighborhood would know. The shame would be insufferable. Then Rachel would be the queer guy in prison. That sounded far from good.

"Thanks," Rachel said. "Thanks so much for saving me. Why didn't you just tell me?"

Levant leveled his gaze at her. "Telling you about it on US soil would have made you an accomplice. By knowing nothing, you were innocent. They would have to leave you alone. You would be out by sunset. Still, it taught me one thing, though."

Rachel scrunched her eyes and tilted her head. "Really, what?"

"You trust me. Say what you like; you got onto the chopper. I could tell by your face you were worried, but you trusted me. You knew I would never do anything that wasn't in your best interests. I can't tell you how deeply that affected me."

"Let me get you something. Would you like a whiskey?" Rachel found herself offering because she needed one.

*****

Chapter: Iceland

Rachel knew they would have to stop. A private jet that size didn't have the range to go from San Francisco to Italy without stopping. They had landed in Iceland in the early morning. Then Douglas had announced that he was going on a business trip. Rachel, her eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and vulnerability, seized the opportunity presented before her. With every ounce of her being, she beseeched Levant for a coveted place by his side. The touch of Icelandic soil beneath her feet awakened a profound awareness within Rachel--an awareness she might never seen, this enigmatic land of fire and ice again.

Here in Iceland, as the first light of dawn pierced the sky, they found themselves traversing a desolate landscape that resembled an otherworldly realm. The path they ventured upon was not your typical road; it was a rugged, treacherous trail etched into the earth, a mere scar on the barren expanse of volcanic gray gravel that characterized their surroundings. Each jolt of the vehicle served as a reminder of the inhospitable terrain they dared to navigate.

Rachel had been handed a huge bright yellow Khaite puff jacket and had pulled the bubble-shaped coat around herself. Given the storm that was brewing on the horizon, she wrapped it around her like a lover's arms. On the plane, she had changed into a stretchy Michael Kors maxi body con dress in a vivid lime green. Charlie had thrown it in from her wardrobe. It was relaxed day wear but sleeveless, it had a slit up the side which daringly went all the way up her hip practically to her waist. It gave Rachel a very breakfast at Tiffany's silhouette which Levant applauded. Looking out, she wished she had brought a spacesuit.

Finally, the SUV came to a halt in front of a solitary clapboard house, standing defiantly against the vast emptiness that stretched as far as the eye could see. No signs of life could be discerned, not even a hint of verdant foliage or resilient weeds seeking a foothold amidst the harshness. It was as if the very concept of plant life had been expelled from this forsaken place, leaving only a desolate emptiness that mirrored the hearts of its inhabitants.

They had been met by a huge man with a huge beard. They had got out of the biting wind and entered a wooden farm house. Levant and the man had disappeared into the kitchen. This left Rachel and Lucy in the large hallway sitting on a bench side by side. The dim light filtering through the small windows casts ethereal shadows on the worn wooden floors. The walls, adorned with faded photographs and weathered paintings, tell stories of generations past. The scent of aged timber lingers, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee, evoking a sense of warmth and homeliness.

"I thought Italy would be warmer and slightly more Italian," Rachel said, looking around the pine covered walls, making conversation.

Lucy looked up to Rachel.

"That was a joke" Rachel explained.

Lucy looked down. "You could have fooled me," Lucy said quietly to herself.

Rachel sat back. "Look, Lucy. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot somewhere. I don't know what I did wrong to you. Just tell me, and I'll fix it."

Lucy closed her iPad. "Can I be honest with you?"

"I would actually appreciate it," Rachel nodded.

"The problem is... the problem is Mr. Levant deserves someone better than you," Lucy said. "He deserves someone who understands him, someone who can look after him. You don't know how to dress, you don't know how to cook or entertain, you don't even know how to do your own makeup without a user guide. Even a drag queen could do that, you're not even a good drag. You have no redeeming qualities except the ability to take pictures of your feet and get 10,000 likes for no real reason."

"You're right," Rachel said. She couldn't disagree with anything Lucy said.

Unbottled, Lucy fizzled like bad champagne frothing out of the bottle. "You know he is thinking of standing for governor. What can you seriously think of doing for him? What can you seriously contribute? You're a drag, a hindrance, a millstone. If they find out about your secret, his chances are shot. I tell him this, and you know what he says? 'Well, this would really seal the LGBT vote.'"

Rachel smiled helpfully. "See, we can both agree on that."

Rather than pacifying her, this just prodded Lucy into a low, controlled rage.

"Look at you. What have you done to get here? Nothing. How do you help him? You don't. You know what annoys me about you? I'll tell you. He obsesses about you all the time. 'Oh, Rachel prefers this. I'm not sure Rachel would like that. This is more her style. Make sure she wears the black pumps, not the red.'"

"Really?" Rachel said.

"AND THEN, oh, Rachel doesn't think this is a good '72," Lucy continued. "Check, will you tell the caterers to dump it and order some new stuff? I had to phone around at seven in the evening looking for a bulk order of vintage Champagne. We had a fleet of 18 Ubers at one point, all bringing a bunch of bottles from all over California, just to replace the perfectly good ones."

"Sorry, I..."

"You know what I wanted to say, huh? I wanted to say 'He's just a fucking kid!' What the fuck does he know about fucking Champagne? But we aren't allowed to use the H word or we will get fired like Ricky and Judy."

"Ricky and Judy?" Rachel said. She had thought it odd they didn't turn up to the house warming.

"Yeah, Ricky found out and told Judy. No problem, they had signed NDAs and were warned. Ricky had done the legal work to stop the wind farm. They were part of the Asylum redesign team. They were in a design meeting with Levant. You had asked to have a shooting range, but it would be too close to the stables. Angry, they dropped the 's' from she. Levant fired them on the spot. Then he ruined their careers as architects. No one wants to employ them. All because they said 'he doesn't know what he's talking about'."

"Lucy," Rachel said, worried someone would hear, "be careful. We are outside."

"'You don't get to tell me off.' If you were a proper wife or girlfriend, you would have organized that party yourself. You would have done your job to raise his social standing. Even an airhead gold digger would have organized that party. I would have had to fight her for the right to do it. That makes you even less useful to him than some off-the-street slut. But he's all like, 'Well, that's not in the contract, she will never say yes to that.' I had a team of four people working on that party, all so he could show off a building and you. AND YOU didn't even choose the building."

Rachel began to realize once Champagne has left the bottle, there is no pushing it back in.

"Oh," was all she could say.

"No, I chose it. I spent years looking. You don't even know the name of the original architect. You wouldn't even know it won an award for its design, do you? No, you go through the west wing like a wrecking ball and turn it into some weird gadget-crazy man cave."

"I said I didn't know what..." Rachel began to explain.

"And he fucking loves it. This is what is so unfair. There is not a flower in the place, and he just thinks it's fucking brilliant. And the other power wives, like you! For fuck's sake." Then Lucy started sobbing, she couldn't speak and could only get out single words. "He...just...needs...a...good...woman...who...loves...him. That's the...worst thing...you...don't...love him."

Rachel jumped in before Lucy's voice got any worse, and she could see Lucy was fighting back the tears.

"Look, Lucy," Rachel began. "You don't want me here. I don't want me here. Just help me get out of this."

Lucy reached into her huge bag and pulled out some tissues.

"LOOK. Even an idiot could see the problem. He wants what he can't have. If you were any other woman, he would have fucked you and forgotten you by now. I've protected him against every gold digger in the valley. I've seen it time and again. They all came, they all went. If you were even just a little bit gay, it would have been over on the second date. He is a man of powerful sexual magnetism, can't you even see that? Don't you get that? The fact that you are so distant. You need a fucking contract just to sleep in the same fucking room as him. All of these conditions, limits, it makes you too fucking mysterious. Too out of reach even for him."

Rachel suddenly slumped.

"Oh... really?" Her voice was as if the greatest revelation in the universe had been explained.