“Que demonios es esta mierda que me estás diciendo! Vestirme de pinche mujer? Soy mujer, cabrón!”

“Ah, I have no idea what you said, but I don’t think it was complimentary.”

Fedora gritted her teeth. “What do you mean can I dress like a girl?”

Fedora really liked Cole. He was a fun guy to be around and to work for, but like most men, sometimes he really put his foot in his mouth. Like now.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? Do you or do you not own girl clothes?”

She took a deep breath. “Cole,” she said in an extraordinarily calm voice, considering. “I am a girl. Therefore the clothes I own are girl clothes.”

“Come on, Chevy. I know you’re not that dense.”

What had been mere irritation exploded into anger. “You know what? This conversation is over. Good luck with Mommy.”

And she hung up.

The nerve! First, he wakes her up early when he knew damn well the late hours she kept. Working in a gastropub meant long hours. Second, he convinces her to pull a fast one on his dear old mother—a woman who had never done a thing to Fedora. Third, he insults her femininity by suggesting she might not be able to actually pass as a woman.

She threw back the covers and got out of bed, too angry now to go back to sleep. She stomped into the kitchen and started making coffee. A steady stream of Spanish invective flowed from her mouth, most of it unfit for children’s ears, all of it directed toward Cole.

She’d told him weeks ago that he should just take the heat from his mom, that he shouldn’t keep lying to her. He should have just told that one lie to alleviate the pressure building up, like little earthquakes were supposed to do for the San Andreas Fault. But no. The stupid man had to go and embellish everything and concoct a whole fake relationship. Truthfully, even though she’d gone along with it and even had a little fun with it, she’d had her doubts. But she’d told herself, she’d never meet Cole’s mom, so it didn’t matter. Now look what happened.

She glanced at her phone as the coffee brewed. Nothing from Cole. Good.

Her roommate Kiefer shuffled into the kitchen. His eyes were mostly closed. “I smell coffee.”

She poured him a cup and put it under his nose. His hands came up to close around the mug and he took a sip. “I’ve taught you well.”

Kiefer managed a nearby Starbucks.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

“What are you doing up so early? And what’s got you so mad? I heard you cursing. At least, I think it was cursing.”

“Oh, it was cursing, all right.”

As Kiefer’s eyes slowly opened and the caffeine worked its magic, she gave him the low down. Unfortunately, Kiefer laughed when she got to the part where Cole insulted her.

“Stop that. It’s not funny.”

“Yes it is. I find it hard to believe he questioned your femininity. Is he blind? Did you forget to tell me your boss is visually handicapped?”

“No,” she said. “He just never sees me outside of work.”

“Ah,” Kiefer said, taking a seat at their tiny breakfast bar.

“What’s that mean?” she asked, pointing at him with a frown. “That ‘ah.’”

“It means that I can understand that if he’s only ever seen you in your chef’s coat, that it makes sense he doesn’t know you have a rockin’ body.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” she grumbled.

“I am on your side. I just said you have a rockin’ body, didn’t I?”

Her phone vibrated. She stubbornly refused to look at the text, but Kiefer did.

“It’s Cole. He’s sorry.”

“Yeah?” Fedora said. “He should be.”

“I’ll tell him that.”

“Do.”

Kiefer took another sip of coffee and then picked up her phone and tapped out a long message. Fedora started getting suspicious and went to see what he was typing. He, of course, angled the phone away from her.

“Oh my God, what are you saying to him?”

“And done,” Kiefer said with an exaggerated motion of his thumb.

She snatched the phone from him and read the text he’d sent. Hey, this is Fedora’s roommate. You owe her a big apology because, trust me, she has Girl Clothes and you’ll go to your grave a poorer man if you never see her in them.

Her eyes bugged out as Kiefer guffawed. “That’ll teach him,” he said.

Her phone buzzed again. Chevy, I’m really really really really really really sorry. I was such a jerk, I deserve every name you called me in Spanish. Please reconsider. I swear I’ll do anything.

She looked at Kiefer, who shrugged. “Might be worth it to see his face,” he said.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

Fedora was proud of her classic hourglass curves and now that Cole had crapped all over her feminine reputation, she found she really wanted to shock and awe him.

“Plus,” she said, “maybe I can use this to my advantage. I’ve been wanting to get a salamander for the kitchen at work, but they’re expensive. Now, maybe I can.”

“Oh, one of those broiler things?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

As Kiefer wandered toward the bathroom to take a shower, she focused on the salamander she was now convinced she could finagle out of Cole.

She got out her phone and called him. It rang five times before he answered.

“Sorry,” he said. “I had to go into another room. Please tell me you changed your mind.”

“I’ll do it under one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I want a salamander for Hat Trick.”

He didn’t reply at first. “A…a salamander?”

“Yes. It’s a kind of broiler that finishes dishes like mac and cheese. I really need one. It would help us get the food out faster and easier.”

He laughed. “For a second there I thought you wanted a terrarium in the lobby like some restaurants have fish tanks. If it’s for the kitchen, yes, that’s fine. Small price to pay.”

After breakfast, Fedora went shopping. She did own girl clothes, appropriate for dinner with her “boyfriend” and his mom, but circumstances called for something special. Cole apparently thought all she owned was unisex work clothing.

No. That wasn’t right. It was worse than that. He thought she wasn’t able to pass for a girl. Well that was going to change, that was for damn sure. After tonight, he was never going to be able to look at her again without picturing her in Full Woman Mode.