The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 33

Nestled in the vibrant heart of San Francisco, Four Barrels Coffee Shop stood as a testament to the city's unwavering love affair with artisanal coffee. Located on a bustling corner of Valencia Street, this quaint and inviting establishment had become a beloved haven for coffee aficionados, artists, and weary souls seeking respite from the city's ceaseless rhythm. Rachel was no different.

For Rachel stepping through the doors of Four Barrels was akin to entering a sensory sanctuary. The intoxicating aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans enveloped patrons, mingling with the soft hum of conversations and the soothing melody of indie tunes playing in the background. The decor was an artful fusion of industrial chic and rustic warmth, with exposed brick walls adorned by local artists' creations and reclaimed wooden furniture that invited her to settle in for a comforting experience.

Behind the long, polished counter, skilled baristas crafted exquisite beverages with meticulous precision. As the sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow upon the wooden floors, patrons found their favorite nooks--whether it was a cozy corner with plush cushions, a communal table sparking serendipitous encounters, or the outdoor patio offering a glimpse of the city's dynamic energy. Here, time seemed to slow down, inviting her to savor each sip, engage in heartfelt conversations, or simply lose themselves in the symphony of flavors.

"What do you think?" Rachel asked, waving her hand over her chest. It was her first trip out now she was back and recovered from jet lag.

Rachel radiated an air of effortless style with her perfectly curated ensemble. Rachel gracefully wore a Louis Vuitton knee-length pleated skirt in a rich navy hue, emphasizing both comfort and sophistication. The skirt's playful movement added a touch of whimsy to her outfit, complementing the youthful energy Rachel exuded.

Paired with the skirt, she opts for a pair of Prada form-fitting leggings that accentuate her toned legs, providing a modern twist to her overall look. The leggings perfectly match the navy color of her skirt, creating a seamless transition between the two pieces. Rachel's choice of footwear embodied a sense of laid-back elegance, as she confidently struts in sleek ankle boots with a slight heel, effortlessly balancing style and practicality. Accessorizing with minimalist gold jewelry, including a dainty necklace and a couple of slender bangles, Rachel added just the right amount of sparkle to her ensemble. In her hand, she carried a Gucci leather handbag, a perfect blend of functionality and fashion, it was as if she was trying to please someone with an in-depth knowledge of fashion.

Samantha frowned. "It's cute, but sorry to say, I think your old chest was better. It was more you."

Rachel looked surprised. "What?" she said, her manicured eyebrows arching up.

"You heard me. I preferred them the old way," Samantha said, taking a sip of her espresso.

Rachel felt like one of Levant's tall skyscrapers that had just had the charges set off to demolish it.

"Oh, I thought you would like it. I mean, my followers on Instagram and Twitter went crazy about them. They love it and don't mind saying so. One of them said, 'You are so the next Jackie Kennedy.' I looked it up, it's a good thing," Rachel explained, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement.

Samantha, her gaze fixed upon Rachel, couldn't help but feel a tinge of apprehension. "You just don't need to get bigger, that's all I'm saying," she reiterated, her words carrying a touch of concern.

Rachel, with a playful glimmer in her eyes, raised her finely arched eyebrows. "Is someone perhaps jealous that we now have the same bra size?" Her words danced lightly on the air, teasing Samantha's curiosity.

"It's not that; you were okay the way you were," Samantha gently responded, trying to convey her sincerity.

Rachel sipped her Nitro coffee. She yearned for Samantha to get the deeper meaning behind her decision, to understand that this transformation wasn't born out of mere vanity. It was the result of the negotiation, with it, she pushed the nose job into the realm of 'only if married'.

"If that's true, then if I lost a certain pound of flesh, which remains nameless, are you saying you wouldn't be glad?" Rachel pressed, her voice now resembling that of a skilled prosecutor interrogating a witness on the stand.

Caught off guard, Samantha found herself grappling for words. "Well, as a friend... yeah, I know it's not what you want, so I would be sad for you," she replied, her voice laced with a mixture of compassion and uncertainty.

With a mischievous gleam in her eyes, Rachel leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Come on, secretly, as a lover, you would be pleased, right?" Her words hung in the air, delicate and laden with desire.

A momentary pause followed, and Samantha, her thoughts spinning, responded with a hint of ambiguity, "Maybe... Am I your lover?" she inquired, her voice trailing off, as if unsure of where the conversation might lead.

"Shall we go to the women's and find out? Don't worry, the ones here are pretty spotless, better than in Temple and the Grand or the Halcyon," Rachel said, rattling off some of the toilets in clubs she and Samantha had groped each other in. "Anyway, I want to hear what you think. Everyone keeps telling me I'm mad to want to go back."

Rachel let out a breath. "I'm kind of split. I mean, half of me is good with being Rachel, having the flesh removed, walking out on Levant, and seeing a brave new world. The other half of me wants to walk around and not have her ass stroked by strangers or be talked over in a conversation. I mean, if this is a male-dominated world, you would be totally dumb to give up being male, right? So why do I feel like doing it?"

"Hmm... look, I've been through all this worrying about who and what I am stage," Samantha said. "I was the same when I tried to figure out who I was before I came out. So I know what it's like. But I'm really surprised I mean, are you racked with doubt? I thought you were always pretty much sure you were just being a tourist in my gender?"

Rachel sipped her coffee. "Well, you know what it's like. You go on holiday to Big Sur and wonder, 'Hey, what if I could live here?'"

"So you're currently renting and wondering if your love of Sea Otters is enough to make you want to buy somewhere," Samantha said.

Before Rachel could answer and ask the big question, someone sat close by. A couple more people in jogging outfits stood closer, chatting and shuffling back.

For a second, Rachel wondered about telling Samantha about her visit to her English mom and dad. She had spoken to Gwen, also known as 'mum,' and she looked a few years younger. The daily help with Richard was working. Richard accepted Rachel as his daughter; it was a weird feeling. He was most comfortable recounting old memories. They had a lovely day out visiting her castle. She had cleaned the old Elizabethan castle house for no real reason. She was in two minds, part wanted to turn it into a place to vacation home. Part of her said that by the time it was finished, it would be time to return to being Denver. Uncertain, Rachel visited Gwen again and helped out for a couple of days. It had been a nice vacation, but she had kept the prosthesis on all the time, then, on the flight back, wondered why.

"Well, I had a lot to think about in England. I mean, I felt dreadful about Charlie and Logan but I found myself undecided." Rachel said.

"In your castle," Samantha said with a mischievous smile, her voice laced with playful curiosity, "I think you missed that bit out. Do I get to call you princess?" Her words danced lightly in the air, inviting Rachel to indulge in the whimsy of their banter.

Rachel's thick, dark eyebrows, meticulously shaped and framing her expressive eyes, arched upwards in a quizzical fashion. The subtle play of light and shadow accentuated the intrigue that simmered beneath her gaze.

"Not until I have a working dragon," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of longing. There was a flicker of hidden desire, a dream unfulfilled, as she alluded to the magical tales that had captured her imagination since childhood. Her words held a sense of enchantment, as if she were waiting for a fantastical realm to intertwine with her reality.

Samantha let out a soft chuckle, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"You heard about the castle?" Rachel confirmed, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Her words revealed a shared knowledge, a connection built upon shared experiences and whispered secrets.

"Charlie talks," Samantha revealed, her voice carrying a note of intrigue. The mere mention of Charlie stirred a sense of anticipation, as if his words held the power to unlock hidden truths and secrets.

A mischievous glimmer danced in Rachel's eyes as she responded, her voice carrying a subtle undertone of playful challenge.

"If the next word is 'in her sleep,' I want all the details," she teased, her words teasingly coaxing Samantha to reveal the nature of Charlie's conversations.

Samantha, well-versed in Rachel's wit, playfully rolled her eyes, a gesture that spoke volumes of her familiarity with Rachel's tendencies. "In my dreams... is that where your passion for four-poster beds came from?" she quipped, her words layered with a touch of playful sarcasm. Her tone held a gentle teasing quality, hinting at the depths of their shared history and the intimate knowledge they held of each other's desires and fantasies.

"You heard about that?" Rachel asked, she wore some very thick false eyelashes, the sort Samantha liked her in. She could feel her eyelids every time she batted them. The larger breasts were a perpetual reminder of how feminine she looked and felt. She had become used to her old ones, even as they continued to grow and felt tender, they just became part of her. The new ones became sirens lulling her into being the temptress, she couldn't wait for Levant and Samantha to touch them.

Samantha took a sip of her own coffee. "Fidalia's wife is a long-time customer. I hear you've been all over the city looking at them."

"Eventually, I found one in the UK and had it shipped over," Rachel replied.

Rachel took a photo of the coffee and then one of the coffee with Samantha. She sent them off to Instagram.

"What happened to your usual skinny two-shot Macchiato with extra foam?" Samantha asked.

Rachel shrugged. "Life is about change, new tastes, new flavors, new preferences. But I really wanted to check this place out so I could take Levant for something new. Try it."

Samantha sampled Rachel's nitro coffee.

"You like it?" Rachel asked, taking a sip herself.

Samantha smacked her burnished lips. "Yeah, it looks cold and bitter, but it's actually quite rich and smooth when you taste it."

Rachel nudged Samantha. "Sounds like a description of you."

There was a dab of foam on Rachel's nose. Samantha got a tissue and wiped it off.

"Sorry, I just liked the old you," Samantha said, her eyes still on Rachel.

Rachel looked at the other people in the shop--the thin man reading a newspaper on his iPad, the couple with the baby.

"Old me? You make me sound ancient," Rachel added.

"I liked the shy girl who came into my store the first time," Samantha said. "I would happily see her back."

"She was naive," Rachel said, a small amount of foam sitting on her purple lips. "Anyway, I liked the girl in the red dress in the restaurant. We've both had some disappointments since then. Anyway, if it's any comfort, they're going back to how it was at the end of the contract."

"You think he will let you?" Samantha said. She noticed Rachel was wearing more diamond jewelry. The engagement ring was more prominent. Rachel said it was a campaign thing.

Rachel shrugged, sipping her coffee. "Like the devil, he tends to stick to his contracts."

"Did it hurt?" Samantha asked, looking at Rachel's chest. Whoever did it knew their stuff. The months of HRT and this made Rachel look wonderful, like Jazz Jennings.

"Not as much as the laser hair electrolysis." Rachel confided.

"I thought you didn't do anything permanent, or can they reverse that now?"

"It was on my back, legs, arms, and other places. So I wasn't that fussed. It reduced the contract by a month, so no biggie. Left the key bits so just less shaving."

It had been weird not finding any hair growing in the areas that had been treated. She had been very close to saying 'fuck it' and getting her face done. She had these flashes every so often, wondering what would happen if she accidentally castrated herself. In truth, the biggest obstacle was the fact that Levant would take it as a sign she wanted to stay with him permanently.

Just then, Rachel noticed a woman enter the store and order a coffee. She approached the man reading the newspaper, and they spoke briefly. He indicated his seat, and she sat down. She had an old-fashioned black handbag with a pointed end, directed towards Rachel. With that, the man got up and left.

Rachel checked her Apple Watch - precisely three o'clock. Shift change time. The handbag looked ugly enough to be a radio mic to record conversations. It was time to increase the level of deception. Rachel nudged her eyes to the women and Samantha got the message. They knew they were being recorded and avoided saying anything about the save Hunter fund.

"How is your lord and master?" Samantha asked.

"Douglas was happier than I had ever known him. The fact that we're at it like minks again might have contributed," Rachel said, playing along for the recorder. Rachel wanted to mention that one night Levant had been so intense that it had damaged her prosthesis. He had even tried to buy the company, but it was a small operation run by a couple of trans women.

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Too much detail."

"Sorry. Tell me, have you seen any sign of Charlie?" Rachel inquired.

Samantha took a sip and shrugged. "We seek her here, we seek her there... she's so taking over as Levant's general manager. She's doing a lot of the micromanaging so Lord and Master can concentrate on his campaign and you."

For a moment, listening to Samantha speak, Rachel felt she was one of the few people she could relax with. She was one of the few people who wouldn't ask, 'When are you having it done?' or the more subtle 'Are you organizing the last pick up from the unicorn soon?' This was weird because, of all the people she knew, Samantha might have the most preference for it to be done.

Rachel added, "I miss Charlie so much. Not for the sex, but more for the straight talk."

Samantha looked deeply into Rachel's eyes. "Well, I think things are good and bad. They had such an argument. The bad news is I don't see her touching you again. From the way she talks, it's not happening ever. She's still... well, she feels betrayed."

"Fuck," Rachel said quietly. "I feel so guilty about it. I'm such a lame person."

"On the plus side, I think she misses talking to you too. I think... just a thought... I can get her talking to you, but nothing further," Samantha said. Then she thought to herself, 'And with Charlie officially out of the way, I'm next in line.'

Samantha asked, "How's the tennis?"

Rachel's eyes flicked to her minders. "Same old, same old. My forearm is getting better. I'm still losing the occasional ball. What are you doing for exercise?"

Samantha shrugged. "Running in forests, and I'm busy running around town selling stuff," she hinted.

"Speaking of which, how are things going for Re?" Rachel said, indicating that they couldn't talk about the Save Hunter fund.

Samantha smiled. "Well, after your celebrity endorsement, I'm getting a flock of new people coming to the door. Half of the great and the good of Silicon Valley have come through. Last week, it was like Ariana Grande just standing there, flicking through the rack like a normal person. Halsey has been in. Billie Eilish stood outside for a photo."

"She didn't come in?" Rachel said tilting her head, making her blonde hair shrug and cascade which made Samantha want to reach out and touch it.

"No, she just stood outside and took a photo."

"Weird." Rachel said.

Just then, two young heavily made-up women approached. "Hi," said the first one. "Sorry. I'm Lina. We are such big fans. Can we, like, take a selfie?"

"Sure," said Samantha, sitting up.

"No... sorry... with Rachel," said the other friend.

Rachel nodded. "Okay, I guess." As she stood up, she noticed the woman who was now trailing her looking over. "This is Samantha Kline, the well-known designer. She does my dresses," Rachel said.

"Oh wow," said Lina, clearly not knowing who Samantha was. "Okay, yeah, so like all four of us? Yeah, like no one is going to believe this," Lina said.

Lina and her friend took out their phones, and everyone posed.

"Let me take one as well," Rachel said, pulling out her phone. She took a picture, but this time they stood with their backs to the trail, capturing a picture of her.

"Your so on point, your the best" said the girls slightly giggling as they left.

After the girls had left, Rachel and Samantha engaged in a very awkward and self-aware conversation. The book and Levant's campaign had lifted her celebrity. She had started appearing on lists of top bay women, she was near the bottom but it was strange to see her photos. Sometimes the photoshopping of her publicity photos was so extreme she hardly recognised herself. Her new bust only just reached the limits the airbrush industry had already decided for it.

"So, the store?" Rachel asked.

"I've had to hire two new people for the store and another three people to make the stuff," Samantha replied.

"I like the way you call your clothes just 'stuff'," Rachel noted.

Sam dramatically looked at Rachel. "I've had a bunch of designers coming in, trying to get me to stock the items they've got. I've even had a couple who want to design clothes in 'my style' if I'll feature some of their work too."

Rachel leaned back. "That's amazing. Samantha Kline Inc."

"That's not the best part. This investor came along; she is fabulous and wants to fund five or six stores. Another bigger one in San Francisco, one in the valley, a couple more beyond LA."

"Should I be jealous?" Rachel joked.

"No, I'm not ready for a sugar mummy yet," Samantha said. "My friends back east are talking to me. Even Kitty called. She was saying congrats, but you know she was fishing."

Samantha picked up a pen and played with it. She knew how dangerous doing anything with Rachel was, but she still did it. Speaking to Kitty on a regular basis over the save Hunter fund had normalised relations, but she could see the desire in Kitty's eyes.

"Samantha," Rachel said.

Samantha waved her hand like a boxer. "You can call me Sam, you know that?"

"I thought 'Sam' was for your close friends, remember?" Rachel said.

"Okay, you got me." Then Samantha's phone buzzed she looked at it. "Well, we have to get back for your fitting, and this just in: Taylor Swift has just walked over the threshold. Speaking of which, let me take you somewhere first?"

They walked down the street to a new store that had opened. It was a vinyl record store with a mixture of old and new records, plus a huge downstairs section devoted to dance tracks. Rachel noticed that Mrs, Three O'clock was too old to come into a hip location like this.

"This is the best part," Samantha said.

She picked up a couple of records from the dance section and handed them over to the hipster behind the counter. He insisted that if they wanted those records, they should try a couple more. Samantha agreed and was handed a numbered disk.