Olivia's POV
The alarm clock jolted me awake at 6:30 AM, but I'd barely slept anyway. My mind had been racing all night, replaying every humiliating moment from yesterday and dreading what today might bring as Maxwell Wellington's executive assistant.
I rolled over and immediately froze. Through the thin walls of our apartment, I could hear the sound of my mother's voice coming from the kitchen. She was already awake, probably making coffee and preparing for what she'd promised would be a "serious conversation" with me.
*Shit.*
I grabbed my phone and checked the time. I needed to be at the office by 8:30 AM for my first day as Max's assistant. That gave me less than two hours to somehow get past my mother, transform into Oliver, and make it across town to Wellington and Sons.
The problem was, Mom had positioned herself like a guard dog between me and the front door. There was no way I could slip past her in my Oliver disguise without causing her a heart attack.
I needed backup.
"Kira! Kira!" I shook my roommate vigorously, "Wake up! I need your help!"
Kira groaned and buried her face deeper into her pillow. "What time is it?"
"Time for you to save my life again," I whispered urgently, continuing to shake her. "Please, Kira. I'm serious. I need you to wake up right now."
She took her sweet time stretching and yawning, completely oblivious to my panic. Finally, she cracked one eye open and looked at me with the irritation of someone who'd been dragged from a peaceful sleep.
"What?" she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
"My mom is camping out in the kitchen," I explained frantically. "She's been up since God knows when, waiting to ambush me about last night. There's no way I can get to work dressed as Oliver with her standing guard like that."
Kira sat up slowly, running her hands through her messy hair. "So what do you want me to do about it?"
"I need a plan. A distraction. Something to get her away from the front door long enough for me to escape."
We spent the next fifteen minutes brainstorming ridiculous schemes. Fake emergency calls, creating a diversion in the hallway, even the possibility of me climbing out the fire escape. But every idea we came up with had too many variables, too many ways it could go wrong.
"Wait," Kira said suddenly, sitting up straighter. "What if you just... don't avoid her?"
I stared at her like she'd suggested I set myself on fire. "Are you insane? Did you forget about the part where I'm supposed to be a man at work in an hour?"
"No, listen," Kira said, her voice getting more serious, "What if you get dressed as Olivia, go talk to your mom like everything's normal, and then change into Oliver at the subway station?"
I blinked at her. "Change in the subway station?"
"Think about it," Kira continued. "You've got your whole Oliver kit in your bag, right? The prosthetics, the binder, the men's clothes? You could wear a loose dress over the binder, keep the makeup light, and then transform in a bathroom stall once you're away from here."
It was going to be a hassle - a major, complicated, time-consuming hassle. But as I thought about it, I realized it might be the only option that didn't involve either missing work or traumatizing my mother further.
"It could work," I said slowly. "It's insane, but it could work."
"It's going to work," Kira said firmly. "Now go. You don't have much time."
I spent the next ten minutes carefully packing up Oliver's disguise in my bag. Then I wore a loose-fitting blue dress that would hide the binder in my chest - couldn't risk my mother asking me where my breast had gone - then I pulled my normal hair in a simple ponytail.
Looking in the mirror, I was relieved to see Olivia staring back at me. No trace of Oliver whatsoever - except for the somehow flat boobs. But in a way, I felt strangely exposed without the disguise I'd been wearing for days.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.
"Good morning, sweetheart!" Mom greeted cheerfully from the kitchen. "I was wondering when you'd finally wake up. Come here, let me look at you."
I walked to the kitchen, trying to act normal - which I wasn't. Mom was indeed stationed at the counter with a cup of coffee, wearing the same clothes from yesterday and looking like she'd been awake for hours.
"There's my beautiful girl," she said, standing up to hug me. "You look so much better than you did last night. More like yourself."
"Thanks, Mom," I managed, accepting the hug while trying to prevent my flat boobs from grazing her chest, and at the same time, mentally calculating how much time I had left.
"Now," Mom said, settling back into her chair and patting the one next to her, "we need to talk about what happened yesterday. That strange outfit, the way you were crying... I'm worried about you, Olivia."
"I know, and I'm sorry about that," I said, sitting down but keeping my posture alert, ready to bolt at the first opportunity. "Kira was right - I was just really tired. Work has been incredibly stressful lately."
Mom nodded sympathetically. "I understand, sweetheart. But you know you can talk to me about anything, right? If something's bothering you, if you're having problems at work or with... well, with anything."
"I know, Mom. Really. I'm fine."
"Good," Mom said, her expression brightening. "Because I have some wonderful news that might cheer you up even more."
My stomach dropped. When my mother had "wonderful news," it usually meant something that would complicate my life in ways I couldn't even imagine.
"What kind of news?" I asked cautiously.
"I've set you up on a date!" Mom announced, clapping her hands together with delight. "With Gabriel Fisher, the son of my book club friend Martha. He's a doctor, Olivia. A pediatrician! Can you imagine?"
A date. She'd set me up on a blind date. This weekend. When I'm still figuring out my life?
"Mom, I don't think..."
"He's perfect for you," Mom continued, not giving me a chance to speak. "Thirty years old, stable career, owns his own condo. Martha showed me his picture - he's very handsome. And he specifically asked to meet you after she told him about her friend's daughter who's a lawyer."
I glanced at my phone. 7:45 AM. I needed to leave in the next ten minutes if I was going to make it to work on time.
"This Saturday, tomorrow night." Mom continued. "I already gave him your number. He's going to call you later today to set up the details."
"Mom, I really have no..."
"No excuses, Olivia. You're going on this date." She concluded firmly, "It's been too long since you've put yourself out there. And Gabriel sounds like exactly the kind of man you should be dating - stable, successful, ready to settle down."
I wanted to argue, to explain that I couldn't possibly go on a date this weekend because my life was a complete mess and I needed time to recuperate after this week's craziness, but obviously, I couldn't say any of that.
"Okay," I said quickly, standing up from the table. "I'll go on the date. But I really need to get to work now, Mom. I'm going to be late."
"Wonderful!" Mom beamed at me. "And don't worry about tonight - I'll be here when you get home from work. We can discuss your outfit options for the date."
I stopped mid-stride. "Tonight?"
"Yes, I'm staying another night. I want to make sure you're really okay, and besides, I'd like to meet this Gabriel boy when he comes to pick you up tomorrow." Mom beamed, looking so pleased with herself, "Maybe I should stay two more nights instead. I need to make sure this goes right."
"Great," I said weakly. "That's... great. But I really do need to go."
"Of course, sweetheart. Have a wonderful day at work!"
I practically ran out of the apartment, my heavy bag weighing me down. The moment I was on the street, I broke into a sprint toward the subway station.
The nearest station was six blocks away, and I covered the distance in record time, my dress flying behind me and my bag threatening to slip off my shoulder. By the time I reached the station, I was breathing hard and sweating despite the cool morning air.
I bought a MetroCard and made my way to the women's restroom, praying it would be empty enough for me to work. Thankfully, it was early enough that most commuters hadn't arrived yet.
I locked myself in the largest stall and began the process of transforming myself into Oliver. Thankfully I had the binder on already, so I went straight to changing into the men's clothes - dark slacks, dress shirt, tie, and jacket.
The facial prosthetics were the trickiest part. Working with a small compact mirror, I carefully applied each piece, blending the edges with makeup until the masculine features looked natural. The fake facial hair came next, then the contouring that would change the shape of my face.
By the time I was finished, Oliver stared back at me from the tiny mirror. I'd done it - the transformation was complete. I quickly stuffed my dress into the bag and checked my appearance one more time.
I looked at my phone. 8:45 AM.
*Fuck.*
I was already fifteen minutes late, and I still had a twenty-minute subway ride ahead of me. I grabbed my bag and ran for the platform, jumping onto the first train that pulled up.
The ride to Wellington and Sons felt like it took forever. Every stop, every delay, every moment sitting in that subway car was another minute I'd be late for my first day as Maxwell Wellington's assistant. I could only imagine what he'd have to say about my tardiness.
By the time I reached the Wellington and Sons building, it was 9:15 AM. I was forty-five minutes late.
I ran through the lobby, my bag bouncing against my leg, and punched the elevator button repeatedly. The elevator took forever to arrive, and when it finally did, it stopped at every single floor on the way up.
I was panting and sweating by the time I reached the executive floor. I straightened my tie, tried to catch my breath, and walked as quickly as I could toward Maxwell's office.
Patricia was coming out of Maxwell's office as I approached. She looked surprised when she saw me.
"Mr. Hopton?" she said. "Mr. Wellington has been expecting you. He's..." She paused, looking concerned. "He's been expecting you for quite some time."
I could hear voices from inside Maxwell's office - his deep commanding voice and another voice that sounded familiar. As I got closer, I realized it was Alex.
*Great. Alex was witnessing whatever humiliation Maxwell had planned for me.*
I knocked on the slightly open door, still breathing hard from my sprint through the building.
"Mr. Wellington? I'm sorry I'm late. There was a family emergency and..."
"Come in, Mr. Hopton," Maxwell's voice cut through my explanation, cold and sharp.
I stepped into the office, my heart sinking as I took in the scene. Maxwell sat behind his desk, his expression completely unreadable, and Alex was seated in one of the chairs across from him.
"Good morning, Alex," I said, trying to project confidence despite my disheveled state.
Alex nodded in response, but his expression was troubled. "Morning, Oliver."
I turned to Maxwell, ready to launch into a more detailed lie about my lateness, but he held up a hand to stop me.
"Sit down, Mr. Hopton," he said, his voice dangerously calm.
I sat in the chair next to Alex, my bag sliding to the floor beside me. Maxwell regarded me for a long moment, his green eyes taking in every detail of my appearance - my mussed hair, my wrinkled shirt, the fact that I was clearly out of breath.
"Do you know what time it is, Mr. Hopton?" Maxwell asked quietly.
"I know I'm late, sir, but..."
"It's 9:17 AM," Maxwell continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "Your start time was 8:30 AM. That makes you forty-seven minutes late for your first day in your new position."
I felt heat creeping up my neck. "I understand, sir, but there were circumstances..."
"I don't care about your circumstances," Maxwell said, his voice getting colder. "What I care about is reliability. Punctuality. The basic professional courtesies that separate competent employees from incompetent ones."
Alex shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Max, maybe we should..."
"No, Alex," Maxwell said, never taking his eyes off me. "This is a teachable moment. Mr. Hopton needs to understand what's expected of him if he wants to work at this firm."
My heart was racing, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I understand, sir. It won't happen again."
"No," Maxwell said, leaning back in his chair. "It won't."
There was something in his tone that made my blood run cold.
"Because you're fired, Mr. Hopton."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I felt the air rush out of my lungs, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. The room seemed to spin around me.
"What?" I managed to whisper.
"You're fired," Maxwell repeated, his voice completely emotionless. "Effective immediately."
"Max," Alex said, his voice filled with shock. "Don't you think that's a little extreme? It's his first day, and..."
"And he's already demonstrated that he can't handle the basic requirements of the position," Maxwell interrupted. "I don't have time to baby-sit employees who can't be bothered to show up on time."
I sat there, stunned, feeling like I was falling through space. After everything I'd gone through - the disguise, the lies, the humiliation, accepting the demotion - he was firing me for being late once?
"Please," I said, my voice barely audible. "I can explain. There was a family emergency, and I had to..."
"I don't want to hear it," Maxwell said, standing up from his chair. "Patricia will prepare your sack letter, and help you collect any personal belongings. Your final paycheck will be mailed to you on Monday."
I looked desperately at Alex, hoping he might intervene, but he looked as shocked as I felt.
"Sir," I tried one more time, standing up on shaking legs. "Please. I need this job. I know I made a mistake, but..."
"The mistake was mine," Maxwell said, walking around his desk to stand in front of me. "I should have trusted my initial instincts about you. Some people just aren't cut out for this level of responsibility."
He was so close I could smell his cologne, could see the complete lack of sympathy in his green eyes. This wasn't just about punctuality. This was personal. This was punishment.
"Get out of my office, Mr. Hopton," Maxwell said quietly. "And don't come back."