Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Sitting in the back of a Mercedes, en route to a fundraising dinner, Reagan looked to Eva, sitting across from him. He always loved an executive seating configuration in a limousine. When the seats faced each other it was easier to treat the vehicle like an office, and Reagan treated everything like an office.

He looked over his campaign manager, her hair piled on top of her head with a few strategic strands left dangling around her face, her slender neck exposed. He was reminded that the women who loved to play ball with the boys was still extremely attractive. That night she wore a champagne colored, figure hugging, calf length bodycon dress that showed off her figure, despite showing very little skin.

The feminized man couldn’t help comparing his own ensemble to hers, something he had been encouraged to do to avoid another faux pas like the previous week at the press conference. His ever so helpful analyst, Ryan, even provided some flashcards, images on one side, and accurate descriptors on the other. Bodycon, shift, sheath, strapless, bouffant, halter, jumper - the list went on.

Much to his chagrin, after memorizing the study material, he was given another stack. Ryan at least had the presence of mind to look apologetic as he handed them over, avoiding his boss’ ire. This time the maligned pieces of paper focused on blouses, and accessories. Sweetheart, scoop, jewel - all neckline, to Reagan’s surprise, and not pet names for an office cutie, and one errant ice cream tool. When handed a third set of cards, this time shoes, Reagan dropped them on the young Mr. Davis’ head, along with an empty threat, only to find them sitting on his desk later that day. As much as Reagan hated it, Ryan was only trying to be helpful, and because of his diligence, his boss knew exactly how to describe both his, and Eva’s outfits that evening.

Reagan himself was wearing a sheath dress, straight cut, and nipped at the waistline, compared to her bodycon, it was well past fitted, and was better described as figure hugging. While he didn’t know what Eva wore under her dress, he was well all too aware of every undergarment on his body.

The lacy purple panties weren’t just snug but slipped in right between his cheeks. He could swear his ass was getting bigger thanks to what the “butcher of a doctor” did to him. The second he won this election he would make sure the hormone pellets, the implants, and anything else invading his body would be cut out and incinerated for good measure. They looked great in the mirror and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t appreciated the view, but not attached to him, no matter how much his stress induced dreams seemed to imply otherwise.

To hold in “his girls” as Eva liked to call them, he wore a matching lace shelf bra that seemed to be designed to be seen. It was joined by his usual corset, the device not having been tightened recently, it now serving as a standard support garment, rather than being used for any training.

The dress covered all of that coming down to just a few inches above his knees, making the garment more practical than the black sandal four inch stilettos with red straps criss-crossing over one another that he wore to an event that would have to be walking around to mingle in. While Eva wore a more form fitting dress than she also had on heels of the same height, except she had on block heels, making them much more manageable for the evening. In the end he had added accessories: a pendant necklace, a little watch for his right wrist and two bracelets on the other. The first a red and gold hinged bracelet and a thin gold chain, with the last piece being red dangling earrings that resembled leaves that would match his lipstick, nail polish and shoes. It was a lot of work to put together an outfit and Reagan was pretty sure he liked it better when it was picked out for him, or he would if he didn’t have a need to get back some sort of control in his life. If not he was sure he would be wearing something closer to what Eva wore, only shorter.

“Tonight, our goal is to win Albert Amancio back…” Eva’s voice trailed off as she raised her eyes from her tablet. “Reah, are you paying attention?” She thought about making a ditzy blonde joke but thought better of. Reagan needed to be on the top of his game, so having him walk into the event already flustered would do no one any favors.

Regaining their largest donor back would be a boon, the kind that would almost assure their success. Financially, they were doing okay, but running a campaign was expensive. As soon as money came in, it went right back out, like pouring water from the sink into a strainer. It wasn’t like they were broke, but Eva wasn’t positive Reagan understood the attacks from the right going on behind the scenes. He might have been the republican candidate, but the party definitely wasn’t happy about it, and the dominant MAGA faction was willing to lose a single seat to quickly sweep the embarrassing aberration under the rug as quickly as possible. If anything, she didn’t want Reagan to know. That last thing Eva needed was Reagan spiraling into another bout of depression.

“Hmm? Yeah, yeah I hear you. Al and I are good friends. This particular fundraiser was his idea after all. Two thousand dollars isn’t a great deal of money to him, but we got him to come, so once I sit down with him I’m sure I can get him back on board.” Reagan struggled to admit he could ever succumb to the weakness of distraction, especially when his thoughts were on the fabrics and materials of their outfits.

Eva gave her friend a lop-sided smile, not nearly as confident about Mr. Amancio. She had to have the invitation hand delivered to the man. Without that show of fealty, he might very well have scrapped the appearance he suggested himself out of spite. The Reagan espousing anti-LGBTQ talking points months ago would have no doubt cut ties with a so-called friend if they suddenly came out as trans, not out of hate, but out of political expediency, or so Eva thought, though she couldn't be sure considering the things she heard him say about his lesbian sister.

“Well, if you need him I’m sure my brother can help. That’s what you are here for right?” Eva asked, turning to the man sitting next to Reagan.

“I’m here to be a caring boyfriend and to show my unwavering support for Florida’s next senator.” Elias clarified, happily gazing at the distracted object of his affection.

Reagan schooled his face not to grimace, as he turned to face the man in the crisp tailored blue suit, and red tie. He now sported a well groomed beard with his hair slicked back, not one strand out of place. When he insisted Elias make the change, it never dawned on the feminized man just how Elias' new look resembled his former appearance.

Right then, looking at the taller man, the only thing Reagan could think about was that night at his apartment, getting his feet rubbed, and the kiss they shared. They were acting like a couple when not a camera was in sight, and he couldn’t make sense of it.

‘Elias might have been able to trust Kenneth…’ Reagan thought, not having a reason to trust the twink himself. His frantic mind searched for reasoning, constructing the first excuse he could convince himself made sense. ‘No way either of us could trust chef what's-his-name, even if he did make a fantastic meal. That’s why it happened! I’ve gotten plenty of massages from men anyway, at least when a sexy woman wasn’t available. That wasn’t a big deal at all. He’ll want to be compensated for his service, for sure. We really need to work out exactly what that is before he changes his mind, opens his mouth, and sinks my campaign.’

Returning the smile, more on instinct than anything else, Reagan decided not to let the topic go unaddressed. “Elias, what do you want from this relationship?” Reagan rolled his eyes at the last word.

Eva's face lit up at the question. Giggling, she answered, “I for one am hoping for marriage and a baby - maybe two. I would love to have nieces and nephews.” She couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Reagan.

Turning to his auburn-haired friend with a scowl, Reagan shot back, “That is enough from you.”

Annoyed with his sister, Elias shook his head. Placing a hand on Reagan’s shoulder, he answered “It’s still early. We haven’t even talked about marriage, nor have we spoken of children. Should we talk about your prospects, little sister? Hmm? Tell you what, when the time is right, if you’re still single, we might use you as a surrogate if you really want to see little ones running around.”

Reagan sighed, reaching across the car to snatch the tablet from Eva’s hands. He wanted to go over the guest list, and review the details so he’d be well equipped to make each and every one feel special. He was also looking for any reason to excuse himself from the conversation. It made sense that the man would have things in common with Eva, such as sharing a similar sense of humor. While he didn’t get a direct answer from Elias as far as his compensation, there was a hint. The man hadn’t decided just yet. He was still feeling things out and that meant the price, one way or another, would be high.

“I can’t believe she likes you.” Eva scoffed. “Statistically, I suppose someone had to.” She turned to Reagan, who seemed to be trying his best to ignore the bickering siblings. “Reah, if your boyfriend keeps running his mouth, and you want to distract him, just steal him away for a kiss. It will sell that the two of you are in love, plus there’s the added bonus that it might actually shut him up. Win-win.”

Elias rested his hand on Reagan’s knee. “We don’t have to prove anything.”

Setting the tablet in his lap, Reagan’s first instinct was to slap his hand away, but Elias’ reaction was exactly the kind of display needed for the public. “That’s the right answer.” Reagan agreed.

It wasn’t long before Reagan found himself being escorted into the fundraiser on the arm of Elias Arnoult. The eyes of nearly everyone were on him. It felt demeaning, being seen as a woman being on the arm of a man. It was lost on the **** beauty that his feelings said more about his opinion of women than anything else. He blushed as though being one was shameful in and of itself.

A dark phrase echoed through his mind, one that had haunted Reagan since he was young, seared in place by his mother. “Not good enough.” It was the driving **** of nearly every decision he made. Nothing was ever good enough - Nothing he acquired, and nothing he did.

That was the kind of mentality that could push someone to do something so absurd as to pursue the highest office in the land, even at the cost of sacrificing his own identity, and strolling into a party on the arm of another man, as his girlfriend.

Anxious, and parched, Reagan quickly found a waiter holding a tray with two glasses of champagne remaining. “Hey look, lets get a few more of these to start us off.” he said, sending the young man to retrieve more for the guest of honor.

The first glass went down quickly, while Reagan made small pleasantries with a few attendees, his stomach churning each time he introduced Elias as his boyfriend. When the waiter returned he inhaled another glass and gave Elias a glare that said, “Don’t start.” The bubbly drink went down pleasantly. It was psychosomatic, but just imbibing the entire glass in one go boosted Reagan’s confidence, even if artificially.

Looking out across the grand hall with table after round table, covered white table cloths and full dinner plating, Reagan saw numerous people he recognized, if only by the photo in their file. He didn’t see Al anywhere, but there was plenty of time before dinner, and there were innumerable places the man could be waiting. That was when he spotted Ryan.

“Honey, dearest.” Reagan said in a syrupy sweet voice, aware of how many people were around. “Could you mingle a bit while I see if our big fish has arrived?”

Reagan made way to the strategist who was sitting alone at an empty table, dressed in a nice, if a bit cheap, suit. “Hey Ry, how are you doing tonight?”

Looking up from his phone, Ryan saw his boss in his feminine glory with a pleasant smile on his face. “Hey, yourself. Are you having a good night? The better night you have the better I’m going to have.” the young man replied. Thinking back on his career, he was positive Reagan had never called him Ry before.

“I thought that girlfriend you are always talking about was around, but I see you sitting here all by your lonesome. I was hoping to meet her while she was in town.”

Reagan didn’t care, even a smidge, that his employee's partner had flown in for the week, but Ryan was great at his job, and rule one was to make sure great employees felt appreciated. That was why he personally bought one table for the key players on his team.

Setting his phone down, Ryan removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes before glancing at the chair next to him. “Candi is off somewhere, I imagine making someone’s night a little better.” A smile crept on his lips as he thought back to when he met the green-eyed blonde years before, when she visited a little town in Nevada for the summer.

“Just don’t let her wander off for too long. A lot of rich men will be here tonight.” Reagan recognized the look in the young man’s face. He was smitten with the girl. Pleasantries were out of the way, and Reagan was on a mission. “Albert Amancio… have you seen him…?”

“Yeah, actually.”

Ryan had in fact seen the man in question, but he didn’t bother to say hello. He wanted to give him a piece of his mind over some extremely horrendous behavior years prior, but it would only feel good in the moment, or worse, the man would have no idea what he was talking about. It would also hurt his own prospects, so instead he chose to keep his distance.

Extending a finger, Ryan said, “He went that way. I saw one of the servers pointing him towards the library.”

“Perfect.” Reagan said, patting his employee on the back.

As he stepped away, the beginnings of a plan formed in his mind. First stop was the bar to get a Godfather - scotch whisky and amaretto, Al’s favorite drink. He hoped to find the man in private so they could get right down to brass tax, and answer the question, “What was it going to take to regain his support?”

As the feminized man walked away Ryan couldn’t help but take note of the purr in his boss’ voice, while he watched the feminine sway of Reagan’s hips. The plan for this campaign had gone off the rails long ago and he almost jumped ship.

One of the reasons he came on board was because of Reagan Demir’s connections, then the man dove head first into the anti-woke narrative, just to keep his base happy. He should have bailed then, but it was only the blink of an eye before he and the campaign were hacked. That was that, no need to quit. They were finished, but then Eva had an insane idea. As he tried discussing it with Candi, the girl struggled to follow, latching on to only small pieces of information.

She cut him off as though he was the bad guy when he tried to explain why he wanted to resign. She seemed to think Reagan was trans, that he needed help, and that his boss, Eva, required him to succeed. Watching Reagan, or Reah as Eva called him, walk perfectly in a pair of heels, swaying his hips, made it all seem very real. It was part of his job to make it seem that way, but the longer everything went on the less sure he was it was all a performance.