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Another Fine Miss (The "All-Grown Up", Complete Version) by Robyn A. (I've written this story for your entertainment, as well as my own. If you are under eighteen, however, this tale may contain concepts and ideas that certain idiots believe can send you to the place where the red-skinned guy with the pointed tail and pitchfork conducts his business. Also, please be aware that this tale contains depictions of real persons--all of whom are dead now--in fictional situations that I made up. Very little of this story actually happened; that's why it's fictional.) (Oh, and one more thing...A number of you girls commented on some continuity errors in Part One of the story. I believe I've corrected all of them, and as a special bonus, added some surprises to the first few chapters, to make it all a little more involving. So, if you've only read the first chapters, I guarantee that you'll want to reread them!) Chapter One The Little Caterpillar Paul was the youngest member of the Peterson family, and he was the only member of the family that had been adopted. When Tyrone Peterson married Yvonne, he had intended to raise a large family, with lots of boys and girls. It didn't come to much. Their first child, Lorraine, was a girl, born in 1910. Then came The Twins, Wendy and Judy, in 1916. Their births had been difficult, and left Yvonne unable to mother any more children. This left both mother and father crushed. They had been hoping and praying for a large family, and it looked like it would never happen. It wasn't like they couldn't afford a large family. Tyrone and Yvonne were both running businesses; Tyrone was an automobile salesman, and Yvonne opened the Fluttering Fancies Dress Shoppe in downtown Waldrop. Both businesses were doing extremely well, and their cash flow was very impressive. In fact, they were one of the richest families in town. The couple decided to adopt. They drove down to Los Angeles, and filed the papers; the courts ruled quickly that they were certainly suitable parents, and within a few weeks, they had adopted a healthy boy, whom they named Paul, in the fall of 1918. Though they didn't know whom the mother and father of the boy had been, they found Paul to be a very attractive baby, and they decided to celebrate the boy's birthday on January 1st, because that was the Orphanage's best guess as to the day he was born. The only odd thing about the boy was a small, spade-shaped birthmark on his left ankle, exactly where the foot meets the shin. Yvonne Peterson thought it was adorable. In 1922, Tyrone Peterson was having a few drinks with some friends at a local saloon, when a typical bar room brawl broke out. Being naturally opposed to violence, Tyrone tried to intervene, which earned him a punch to the face. The impact of the blow shattered Tyrone's nose, and drove the cartilage from his nose directly into his brain. He was dead before he hit the floor. The family was stunned at their father's death. Without Tyrone, the automobile business soon died, which left the girls (and Paul) to run the dress shop. Even though things hadn't gone as planned, they had a good life together. The financial crunch wasn't too bad, at first, but circumstances forced the family to take the small apartment above the dress store. Perhaps it was being raised in a predominantly feminine household that made young Paul very shy. Perhaps it was because, as a lad, the females of the house didn't really know what to do with him. Whatever the cause, the boy spent more time in the Public Library than at home, which was all right with Yvonne and the girls. Paul was, of course, put to work for a few hours a day as a "seamstress". He became very familiar with the fabrics and patterns of girl's and ladies' clothing; occasionally, and much to his mortification, he was often made to wear a girl's dress, so that it could be hemmed or worked on in other ways. He always did this under protest, however, and he never, never would do it if there was a possibility of being seen by anyone other than his mother or sisters. (However, he did think the feel of girl's clothing was much nicer than that of boys' clothing...not that he'd have ever admitted that to anyone!) Of course, for Halloween, they always dressed him as a girl. It was the cheapest costume, and they definitely had to scrimp and save for every cent! One year, when the store had gotten an order for a dozen tutus for the Pink Rose Ballet Academy, the poor boy was mortified by having to wear one of their tutus for Halloween. Of course, so did his older sisters, but they were girls to begin with! Oh, how all the boys all laughed at him, in the pretty pink tutu, complete with the fairy wings and slippers and blonde wig and lipstick! When Paul reached his early teens, those incidents were pretty much forgotten, though. He became a small, bookish type of guy. Paul never really looked like he was a member of the family; the the Peterson girls, as well as their mother, all had brunette hair, and luminous light brown eyes. On the other hand, Paul's hair was a flaming red, and he had a pair of lovely green eyes behind thick lashes that many of the girls envied. In the summer of 1928, on her eighteenth birthday, Lorraine left home, and settled in Los Angeles, finding a job as a Gal Friday for a movie-studio executive. The job paid well, and Lorraine set money back to Waldrop to help out the rest of her family. On visits down to LA, they saw that Lorraine by no stretch of the imagination was living according to her means; if she weren't sending cash to the rest of the family, she could live quite well by herself, and not have to live in a run-down apartment with two roommates. Still, she made sacrifices in the name of the family! And so did the other girls...they shared everything. They'd take turns wearing the same dress, they shared make-up and they got part-time jobs as waitresses at a malt shop. Yvonne worked her fingers to the bone at the Fluttering Fancies Dress Shoppe, sometimes twenty hours a day. She did so without complaint, with a smile on her face. Try as he might, though, young Paul was just too small and frail to function properly in a typical masculine job. He wasn't physically strong, and he winded easily. He tried, though, and was ashamed and humiliated at his failures. But he did help out, mostly in the back room of the seamstress shop; he was very good at sewing and creating new designs for clothing. Of course, he didn't take any credit for that--he allowed his mother to get that. Down in Los Angeles, Lorraine Peterson became the personal secretary to a film producer named L. Randy Hurley, or "LRH", as he was called in the biz. He was a dynamic man, finding the best screenwriters, the best technical crews, the best actors and actresses, and the best directors for Superior Studios Unlimited. Lorraine had difficulty keeping up with him! LRH knew something that the other studio executives were trying to push under the rug, to save their jobs. In the next few years, Hollywood as they knew it would come crashing down around them....the movies would begin to talk, and sooner than anyone would think. The silents would die, and soon. In late Autumn of 1928, she accompanied him to a screening of the new silent comedy, a two-reeler called "Rosie's Ruined Romance", starring a new young actress, named Allison Maye, in the role of Priscilla. Even in black and white, and in pancake make-up, she could see a stunning resemblance the actress had with her own brother! LRH, halfway through the screening, leaned over and whispered into Lorraine's ear, "Find out who her agent is. I want to sign her before anyone else gets their meat hooks into this girl!" Later that week, in her weekly letter home, she told her family about Paul's look-a-like down in LA, and told her mother to take the family to see "Rosie's Ruined Romance". Paul didn't like the movies. Except for the Tarzan movies, starring Jack Morgan. He often wished that he was Jack Morgan, the epitome of masculinity. He'd sat through "Tarzan's Greatest Challenge", also starring Boris Karloff as Fu-Manchu, three or four times in the theater. However, for the most part, he'd much rather sit at home, and read a library book than bother with going to a trivial little movie. He especially resented going to see a movie simply to see a girl who looked like him, in the lead role. He knew he looked more female than male, and he resented it. Still, his mother and The Twins insisted, and he eventually had to relent. Even he had to admit that Allison Maye looked almost identical to himself, and he knew that he'd take some ribbing for it this fall in school. That was all he needed to despise the sight of Allison Maye. The Stock Market Crashed on "Black Thursday"--October 24th, 1929. Within months, the work force of the United States diminished by eighty percent, and millions of people lost everything. Business at the Fluttering Fancy Dress Shoppe evaporated. The Peterson family's cash flow abruptly ceased. They lived on their meager savings at first, but Yvonne discovered that their savings would only feed them for, at the most, six months. Of course, Lorriane sent money to them. But she cautioned them that there was no employment in LA, and to stay put in Waldrop. Reluctantly, the rest of the family agreed, and Lorraine sent them as much money as she could possibly afford. Lorraine was one of the very few fortunate ones. Superior Studios let hundreds of workers go, and only kept a "skeleton crew". Lorraine was deemed irreplaceable by her boss, LRH. Superior Studios nearly went bankrupt in 1930, despite having three of the top ten movie stars in the United States. What saved them was LRH's insistence that Superior invested in producing "soundies", which were eagerly attended by anyone in the country able to scrape up a nickel or a dime. And that nickel or dime made an evening's problems vanish. Lorraine was doing perfectly well for a young single woman. Unfortunately, she found it more and more difficult to both manage to keep the rent paid, and send her family enough cash to get along back in Waldrop. Meeting Conrad Quinelle was a blessing for her. Conrad was one of the studio's major make-up artists; still, as off-camera crew, he wasn't very well-paid, and they lived together in a modest walk-up apartment, unmarried. One day, in January of 1933, LRH came across a perfect script for their major child star, Allison Maye. It was called "Another Fine Miss", and featured a double role for Allison; one, as a rich schoolgirl named Gloria, and the larger role, the poor schoolgirl Glenda. Test footage was shot, superimposing one image of Allison dressed in rags against a second image of her dressed in the height of schoolgirlish style. It was just not believable. LRH was in the screening room, huffing and puffing on his cigar. "What we need," he said, "Is a look-a-like. A girl who can do these scenes with Allison, and sing." Lorraine took the note in her pad, thinking, "If only Paul were a girl, he'd get the part in a second..." She swallowed. If only he were a girl... "LRH", she said, "I remember seeing a girl in one of the casting sessions not long ago. I'll try to track her down for an audition." LRH smiled. "Can she sing? Dance?" "We can only hope so, sir," she replied. "We can only hope so." On her lunch break, she cornered Conrad, who was working over at RKO, on the set of "King Kong", which Lorraine was told was some movie about a giant gorilla. Lorraine thought it sounded stupid, but Conrad insisted that the movie would be the best one of the year. Lorraine told him that no one would waste their time with a giant ape movie. She lead him over to a secluded corner of the set, and asked him, "Can you make a fifteen-year-old boy look like a eighteen-year-old girl?" "Easiest thing in the world, Lorraine," he said. "What's going on?" "LRH is looking for an Allison Maye look-a-like for Another Fine Miss," she explained. "Your brother?" he smiled in merriment. "Shhhhhhhh!" Lorraine put her hand over his mouth. "Keep it down!" "You told me he looks like her, but it'll never work!" he said. "I could make him look like a girl, you know I can make someone appear to be a member of the opposite sex, but he'd have to be darn convincing to get a role as a girl, Lorraine. There's a lot more to pretending to being a member of the opposite sex than just clothing, take it from me." "Let me take care of that, this time," she said. "You take care of the look, I'll take care of everything else...!" Conrad raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think he'll agree to this?" Lorraine thought for a moment. "He's a good guy, Conrad," she replied, "He'll want to do this, for the family's sake. I'll take him aside and propose it secretly. If he doesn't pull it off, it won't cause him any unnessecary embarrassment." "This really means a lot to you, doesn't it, darling?" Conrad asked. "If this works, Conrad," she replied, "I'll marry you." He smiled, leaning back against a fake palm tree. "Like that'll ever happen! Bring him on, then," he replied. "We'll make a proper young lady out of him!" Lorraine leaned forward, hugged and kissed Conrad lovingly. That night, Lorraine and Conrad got their small apartment ready for a long-term guest. Their quarters would be cramped, but there was no sacrifice Lorraine wouldn't make for her family. The next morning, a Saturday, Lorraine hopped on a train to Waldrop, and wondered how she could convince Paul to give up his trousers for the life in dresses and skirts. She knew she had to work something out... Meanwhile, she had Conrad make a trip into the studio's wardrobe department, to pick up some things for Paul's potential "audition outfits". She got into Waldrop in the late afternoon, and made her way to the Fluttering Fancies. The Twins and her mother were there to greet her, and were delighted at her unexpected visit. "How long are you able to stay, dear?" her mother asked. "Only tonight," she replied, "I came with some good news." "Good news?" asked Wendy. "Yes," Lorraine said. "It's only a possibility, but I think I might have found a perfect job for Paul. I'd like to take him back down to LA with me tomorrow." The Twins looked at each other, and then at their older sister, "A job?" asked Judy, "Are there any other openings?" "Anything at all?" added Wendy. Lorraine coughed. "I don't think so...no," she said. "The job is perfect for a bookworm like Paul. A scriptreader. Someone who reads scripts, and evaluates their entertainment value. He'll have to apply for it, though..." The fib rankled Lorraine. She hated to lie to her family, but she wanted to spare poor Paul as much embarrassment as possible. If he didn't pass muster as a female, Lorraine wanted to insure that his "girlification" would be as secret as she could possibly make it. Yvonne sent up Wendy to fetch Paul, who was upstairs reading a library book. Paul looked excited as he came down into the store, thinking that, at last, there was a way he could contribute to the well-being of his family. "Is it true, Lorraine?" he asked anxiously. "We can talk about it tomorrow, Paul," she said, dodging the subject. "I'm starved. What's for dinner?" Paul could hardly sleep that night. For the last few years, guilt nagged him constantly. He wasn't even a proper member of the family, being adopted and all. Still, instead of turning him out, which they had every right to do, especially under the circumstances, was something the Petersons had never done. He couldn't perform heavy manual labor, being as small and thin as he was. He was a good seamstress...or was that a seamster?...but there was less and less call for that with each passing day. But still, the Petersons kept him, and kept him without complaint. There had to be a way of repaying their generosity, and Paul knew that he would do anything at all to show them his gratitude. The next morning, Paul and Lorraine were on the train back to LA. Lorraine dodged the topic of exactly what job Paul would be applying for down in LA. Even though he was grateful to finally be in a position to help his adoptive family, he was peeved that he wasn't being told. Still, when they got off of the train to meet Conrad, he was rather shocked when he was told that he and his sister were "living together". Paul swallowed. It was shocking, to realize that his beautiful sister was living in sin with some man! Still, the two of them had good reasons for their arrangement, he thought, once it was explained to him that money was extremely tight, and that both his sister and Conrad were sending money to their families out-of-town. It wasn't that they were against being married, they just couldn't afford it, not right away. Or so Lorraine said. Finally, when the three of them arrived at the small apartment, Paul just couldn't wait any longer... "All right, sis," he said. "What is this job I'm going to be applying for?" "It's sort of difficult to explain," Lorraine replied. "Remember how much the Twins made of the fact you looked like Allison Maye?" "Yeah," he replied. "So what?" "Well, there's a part in her upcoming movie for someone with a resemblance to her...a close resemblance." "You mean," he smiled, "I'm auditioning to be her brother, or something like that?" Conrad smiled, laughing gently. "Something like that," he agreed. "Oh, hush, Conrad," Lorraine snapped. "It's not that simple, Paul...the part isn't as her brother..." "Oh, then a cousin," Paul replied. "I can do that, too. When do I audition?" Lorraine took her brother by the shoulders. "It's not a male role, Paul," she said, steadying him. "It's a girl's part." Paul swallowed. "A girl's part?" "You can do it...I know you can!" Lorraine said encouragingly, sitting the shaken lad down on the couch. "Put you in a dress and wig, like we used to do when you were little...Conrad's agreed to do your make-up and hair...I can coach you in how to act female..." Paul turned white. "Is this some kind of joke?" "Oh, please, Paul," Lorriane pleaded, "You can do this...I know you can." Conrad stood. "It's no joke, Paul," he said. "I've been doing make-up and hair here in Hollywood for the last five years. You're lucky; you've got a slight body, and a face that can certainly pass as a girl's." "But...I don't want to dress up and act like a girl!" "Obviously, Paul," Lorraine pointed out, "You don't have to. But I thought you wanted to help out..." "Well, I do," he protested. "But dressing up like a girl isn't really what I had in mind!" Conrad smiled, "It's not like we're going to think you're a sissy if you do this," he said. "But it sure would be nice if you at least tried it." He swallowed, confused. "I don't know..." Lorraine got to one knee, and put her hand on his shoulder, gently forcing him to look at her. "We went through a lot of trouble for this," she said. "Conrad has gotten some of Allison's old costumes from the studio, and I really tried to keep this secret, so you wouldn't be embarrassed in front of the rest of the family. Please, Paul," she said. "I won't force you into wearing a dress, but please...think of the family." She rose, and led Conrad out of the room, leaving Paul alone with his thoughts. Conrad had left a pile of dresses on the couch across the room. Paul got up and examined them. It can't be too bad, he thought. Lorraine and The Twins wear dresses every day. And it's not like I'm a fairy or anything if I do this...I'm just trying to help. He picked up the dress on the top of the pile. It was white, and very lacy...very definitely a dress a girl wouldn't wear casually, but a dress she would wear to catch the eye of a boy, or perhaps to a special occasion. The one under that was a silky violet number, trimmed in ribbons and ivory lace, and came with a number of matching taffeta petticoats. Paul swallowed. He had often worked on similar dresses at the Fluttering Fancy. And while he had been made to wear dresses from time to time so that they could be hemmed, he had usually worn his trousers under them. And those dresses were casual, everyday things, hardly fancy at all. But here, he discovered garter belts, panties, slips and brassieres. As well as high heels and jewelry. And he would have to wear make-up. And a wig. As well as learn to act like a young lady! And he'd have to do so, soon! "I'll do it," he whispered. It was the least he could do. For the family. The next day was Monday, and both Conrad and Lorraine had to be at work. Paul was instructed stay in the apartment all day; luckily, no one had seen Paul come in the day before, so suspicions wouldn't be aroused in the neighbors seeing a boy enter the house, and a similar-looking girl exit. He did as he was instructed. He waited until late afternoon, when he took a bath, and shaved everything from his eyebrows down. Not that he needed much shaving. He then applied a fresh-smelling talcum powder to his shaved underarms, and scrubbed his face with an astringent solution. Finally, he donned Lorraine's pastel-pink terrycloth bathrobe, and put a towel around his wet hair. Paul had timed it just right. He was finished preparing himself--physically, at least--for the transformation from male to female, when Lorraine and Conrad returned home from work. Lorraine and Conrad smiled. "My God," Conrad said, to Lorraine in particular. "You're certainly right...he's halfway finished already." Paul noticed that Lorraine was carrying a shopping bag. It was from "Dresses Unlimited", and no doubt contained the further seeds of Paul's mortification. "What's in there?" he asked, helplessly. "Lingerie," Lorraine replied. "And a pair of new dresses; don't worry, you'll love them!" "Lingerie? You mean underwear? Girl's underwear???" "Oh, don't be such a fuss, Paul," Lorraine smiled. "If you don't wear girl's undies, you won't feel like a girl..." "Besides," Conrad said reasonably. "It's an old actor's trick. It's called 'the Tonic Effect'. Essentially, the more authentic the costume, the more an actor...or actress..is likely to get caught up in the part he...or she...is playing. Besides, if someone gets a look up your skirt, they should see panties, not boxer shorts!" "Now, go into the biffy, and put these on," Lorraine said, handing poor Paul a small pile of lingerie. "And don't take your time...we have a lot of work to do tonight." Paul took the silky white garments, and did as he was told. Being familiar with feminine clothing, it didn't take him long to slip into the things. The first item was a pair of loose silk tap pants, trimmed in dainty lace. Up his freshly-shaven legs they went, cool and light as a breeze. As mortifying as the situation was, he had to admit that at least the sensation wasn't unpleasant. The next item was a bit less comfy. It was a training bra. He had to struggle with it a bit, but he got it on without tearing or ripping it. He was surprised how such a delicate-looking garment could be so strong. He fit a pair of small pads into the two cups of the bra; it didn't take any explanation as to their purpose...to give him a young girl's breasts!!! The final item in the small bag was a full slip. Swallowing, he donned the garment, letting it settle over his smallish frame like a silken kiss. A moment later, he looked at himself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom. How humiliating it was! He saw a boy, small and helpless, wearing a girl's lingerie. Oh, how he hoped no one would see him in this state! But he knew people would be seeing him. A LOT of people! And if he actually managed to get though the auditions, the entire world would see him, dressed as a girl, on the silver screen, immortalized forever! With a frown, he faced his fate, and came out into the living room. "Oh, Paulie", Lorraine gushed. "You look adorable!" Conrad wore a forced smile. "Not bad. Not bad at all. Needs work though." The two of them led Paul into the middle of the room, and gave the feminine-looking boy a once-over. Oddly, Paul felt himself getting an erection from the scrutiny; he turned his thoughts away from his penis, and prayed he wouldn't become fully erect. THAT would be the ultimate humiliation! "What do you think, Lorraine?" Conrad said after a few minutes. "She definitely needs a wig," Lorraine replied. Paul couldn't help but notice that his sister referred to him as "she", however. "And maybe the white lace tulip dress, to start..." Lorraine and Conrad took a pair of wigs from their respective boxes, and looked at each other, and then at Paul. "I don't know..." Lorraine said, holding up one of the wigs. "The sausage curl thing is just too 'little girl'. I think we should go with the pageboy." Conrad nodded, and while Lorraine replaced one wig in it's box, Conrad sat Paul on a chair, and put the wig in place on his head, using its' elastic to put it firmly in place. "Tomorrow, we'll use a bit of spirit gum to give it some added hold," he said. "We certainly wouldn't want a good gust of wind to reveal your little secret, would we?" "Oh, no!" Paul agreed. "No one wants to see that!" Lorraine sat on a chair opposite him. "I know this is hard for you, Paul," she said. "But it's not so bad. You'll get used to this. But for now, for right now, we're going to have to not only work on your appearance, but also your attitude." "My...attitude?" "When was the last time you saw a pretty girl walking down the street with a frown on her face?" she asked. "A pretty girl is happy to be what she appears to be...you not only have to look like a pretty girl, you also have to look like you enjoy being one. So, for the rest of the evening, no matter how differently you feel, try to act like you are enjoying yourself, okay?" Paul forced a smile onto his face. He really did want this to work. So, keeping his family in mind, he smiled. "Ooooh," Conrad said. "It needs work." "Maybe a pretty dress will put some happiness behind that smile!" Lorraine said. She produced a white satin and lace confection from the pile of dresses. "This was actually worn by Allison Maye in 'A Girl Grows Up'," she explained. "This was in the final scene, where her evil older sister realizes that the little girl she's been tormenting for years has grown into a beautiful young lady, and that she's lost Ramon Navarro's heart to her!" Paul remembered the movie; he'd sat through it back in the Waldrop Bijou Theater. Never, in his wildest dreams, did he ever think he'd be dressed in the very same clothes that Allison Maye had worn in the movie! The dress went over his head before he could muse too long, though. His arms went through the sleeves, and with a minimum of fuss or muss, he was indeed wearing the dress. Lorraine zipped up the back, imprisoning him in it; still, he tried to maintain the smile on his face. The dress was finished off with a matching white satin bolero jacket. White knee socks and white leather Mary Janes completed his outfit. "Not bad..." Conrad stood back. "Turn around," Lorraine added. "We need to see you from every angle. Not bad at all. She's quite lovely, actually." "Well, with a little make-up, she'll be perfect," Conrad pointed out. The dress Paul wore was truly lovely. And he did look lovely in it. The skirt was shaped like a bell, with tulle layers holding it away from his bare shaven legs. The hem of the skirt was scalloped, giving one the impression of a beautiful, ornate drape. Above the skirt was a long-sleeved blouse, with a layer of white lace over the bodice. Finally, the satin bolero jacket gave the entire ensemble a hit of mature elegance, so appropriate to a young lady's appearance. "Keep it simple, Conrad," Lorriane said. "We don't want to overdo it the first day." "All right, all right!" Conrad mock-protested. "But tomorrow, I go all out, and turn this little caterpillar into a butterfly!" And with a touch of blush, a little eyeshadow, a dab of mascara, and a light coating of lipstick, Paul no longer looked like a Paul at all! "Hmmmm...." Lorraine finally said. "We need a new name for you, now. What's your favorite girl's name, Paul?" Paul endeavored to smile, "I don't know," he said. "I never really thought of it before." Lorraine and Conrad sat on the living room couch, instructing Paul to remain standing, turning in slow circles before them. The names Julie, Cissy, Katie, Melissa, and Valerie were all brought up. Even Polly was discussed, but it was decided that it was too close to his real name for it to really be effective in getting him to bury himself...or herself!...in the part of a young actress. "I don't know...she looks French," Lorraine said. "I've got it!" Conrad said excitedly, "Zoe!" "Zoe?" Lorraine smiled. "That's perfect, darling! Zoe it is!" After a few minutes, Paul's "stage name" was decided upon. He would be called Zoe St. Germaine. For the next few hours, Zoe was put through the paces; how to walk, talk, sit and smile like a young lady. He wasn't picking it up, despite Lorraine's encouragement to "Think Girl!"; finally, after a while, with Lorraine's suggestion to mimic how The Twins would act, he began to make a few breakthroughs. Over dinner, Lorraine gave Zoe hints on how a girl eats...little bites, small swallows. Zoe was slowly, but surely, getting it down. When the dress was finally removed, and Zoe was put into a girl's nightdress, both Lorraine and Conrad were convinced that "she" could pull off the act, with a bit more training. Training that would happen the very next day. Chapter Two The Butterfly The next morning, Paul...or, rather, Zoe...was rather shocked when Lorraine insisted that even though he was to stay at home, that he should get "comfy" in dresses. To that end, he was dressed in the same lingerie he wore the night before, but given a simple floral print dress, with a wide black leather belt, lace-trimmed knee socks, and black Mary Janes. And, over Zoe's protestations, every stitch of his male clothing was boxed up, and locked into the trunk of Conrad's Model A. There was now no going back...dressing in Conrad's clothing would make him look ridiculous, being much larger than Zoe, and Lorraine's clothing was just a different shade of "girl", all skirts and dresses. So, with nothing else to do, Zoe practiced his "girl lessons". He raised his voice slightly, enunciated more, and practiced his girl-laugh. It was around noon when the knock came at the door. Zoe was practicing, and he quickly shut his mouth. The knock came a second time. "Is anyone home?" It was a masculine voice, about his age. There was really no denying it. With dread, he went to the door, and opened it slightly, leaving the chain in place. "Hello," he said. "Hello, Miss," came the reply. "My name is Danny. I'm here to deliver these to a Zoe St. Germaine..." They were flowers! A bunch of red and pink roses. For him. "I'm Zoe," he said. Nervously, he allowed the delivery boy in. Seeing the "girl" in the pale white and blue floral dress, he smiled in obvious approval of what he saw. "Who...who are they from?" he asked, trying his best "girl" voice, and keeping the bright smile upon his face. "Someone over at Superior Studios, Miss St. Germaine. There's a card with them," he replied. "Where can I put them?" Zoe took a vase out of the kitchen cabinet, and gave it to Danny, who made a big show of putting the roses in it. Zoe took a dime from the box on the top of the dresser, and gave it to the delivery boy. He then opened the envelope, and read the card, from someone signing himself "LRH", and inviting Zoe to dinner at the Brown Derby that very evening. "Are these from a boyfriend?" Danny asked. Zoe swallowed. "I don't have a boyfriend," he said, a bit too quickly. "Oh really?" Danny smiled. "If you're interested, I'd be more than happy to take you out for dinner, and a movie, sometime..." Zoe shook his head. "I'm sorry, Danny," he said. "I'm just not interested..." "Say," Danny said, in realization, "Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Allison Maye?" Zoe had to do something. He just couldn't stand being looked at...like Danny was looking at him...and not do something about it. "Look," Zoe said, "You're a nice guy, but I really don't have time to get involved with anyone right now..." Danny looked rejected. "I see," he said. "I hope you don't think I'm a masher or anything..." "Oh, no," Zoe replied. "I'd just like to be alone..." "Mysterious, too," he smiled, on his way out, "Just like Greta Garbo." The card read: DEAREST ZOE: YOUR COUSIN LORRAINE TOLD ME ALL ABOUT YOU. I'D BE DELIGHTED IF THE TWO OF YOU WOULD BE MY GUESTS TONIGHT AT THE DERBY. YOU MAY BRING A DATE IF YOU DESIRE. DRESS FORMAL, DARLING GIRL. KISSES, LRH. Zoe slumped on the couch. Apparently, "her" debut would be a lot sooner than he thought. That afternoon, when Lorraine got home, Zoe had worked himself into a state of near-panic. It took a while for Lorraine to calm down her cross-dressed brother. "Why did you have to tell this Hurley fellow about me so soon?" he said, confused and more than a little scared. "I'm not ready for this, yet!" He tossed a fold of his dress aside. "LRH was going to start auditions for the part on Friday, Zoe," she explained. "If we can get him to see you in the part before then, it'll save you from auditioning yourself...and in an audition, there's a good chance you'll never get the part!" He turned, his skirt belling out prettily. Lorraine was very impressed. He'd not reverted to his male voice yet...perhaps he was getting "buried in the part", like Conrad had said. "LRH also suggested you bring a date, Zoe," she pointed out. "Well, that won't happen," he said. "I've yet to even set foot out of the house, much less look for a boyfriend." "Well, I can show up with Conrad, so that won't be a problem," she said. "And I found you a date, as well." "You didn't!" Zoe protested. "I can't go out on a date! With a MAN!" "Well, actually," Lorraine said. "You don't have anything to worry about. I've told Jack all about you...everything. He won't give away your secret, if you don't give away his..." "His...what?" Zoe liked this less and less with each passing moment. "Jack who?" "Actually, Jack Morgan. His image will be ruined if it gets out that he doesn't like girls," Lorraine said. "He's a homosexual. I found out through a friend. I could care less what he likes, and being seen with a pretty girl will help his image all around. " "Jack Morgan?" Zoe's jaw opened. "The guy who plays Tarzan..." A little part of Zoe's...or Paul's...world sort of stopped right then and there. His movie idol was not only homosexual, he was going out on a date with him...while he was dressed as Zoe! "Queer as a three-dollar bill, dear," she said. "And I know what you're thinking...he'll try to make a pass at you." "Well, if he's queer..." "He likes weightlifters and he-men. Most queer guys who are weightlifters and he-men like men like very masculine types themselves. You've got nothing to worry about. Ironically, you're simply too feminine for his tastes, Zoe." Too feminine. He was too feminine! "We really have to get ready," Lorraine said. "Don't worry, Zoe! You'll be fine, if you just follow my lead, and do what Jack tells you to do." "But...but..." Zoe stuttered. "Don't worry, Zoe," she said, taking his shoulders to calm him down. "Everyone wants you to succeed. Me, Conrad, Jack...even the people you'll meet tonight. I told everyone that you're rather shy, except when a camera is rolling, sort of like Greta Garbo." Zoe was told to watch Lorraine get dressed for the get-together, which he actually found relaxing. He paid special attention to how she applied her make-up; eventually, he'd have to learn how to do that for himself. Lorraine donned a chic, spaghetti-strapped column dress, with a long slit at each side. The hem of her dress was studded with rhinestones, which matched her choker and earrings. She wore 4" opera pumps, which looked painful to Zoe, but Lorraine assured him that they were actually quite comfortable, once one got accustomed to the heels. Conrad came home, having been told about the shindig while still on-set. He whistled at his girlfriend, which brought a pretty blush to her cheeks. He dressed himself, while Lorraine dressed her brother...or was it her sister?...for the evening. First, Zoe told to remove his day dress, which he did. He was then shown what Lorraine had chosen for him to wear. Even Zoe had to admit it was a very attractive dress, a pastel-pink satin column dress, similar in basic design to his sisters' choice, but instead, the dress sported a tight, mandarin-styled collar, which coaxed Zoe's head to be held high. The hem of the dress was barely four inches above the floor, but wasn't as confining as Zoe expected, because of the slit front of the skirt, which would allow "her" legs to be glimpsed enticingly as "she" walked. The dress was sleeveless, which allowed Lorraine to slip a pair of white satin, fingerless gloves onto his arms. These rolled up Zoe's arms to halfway up Zoe's now-elegant looking biceps. And finally, the entire dress was brocaded with a lovely, delicate floral print a shade or two darker than the dress' pale pink background. Zoe's nails, peeking out through the ends of his gloves, were polished in a matching pink to the darker pattern of his dress. But that wasn't all! He was given a pair of feminine, almost ballet-style sandals, with a 2" heel, which fastened with entwining pink ribbons snaking all the way up to just below his knees. Lorraine even remarked that the slippers showed his cute little birthmark to good advantage. Conrad, finished dressing (because males don't take nearly so long as females!), applied Zoe's evening make-up, which was both understated and, emphasizing Zoe's full lips, still rather striking. His wig was swept into an up-do, and clipped into place with faux mother-of-pearl combs. And finally, he was given a small, beaded purse, and a white lace fan. Seeing himself in the full-length mirror, he could hardly believe the transformation Lorraine and Conrad had accomplished. The reflection wasn't male in the slightest! Every trace of it had been skillfully erased by the tasteful application of make-up, wardrobe, and props. Lorraine dabbed some perfume on Zoe's shoulders, under his chin, and upon his ankles. "My, aren't you as pretty as a picture," Conrad said. "Maybe you could even get Jack Morgan to like girls, Zoe!" Lorraine giggled. "Now, now, Conrad...no teasing!" For the next hour, Zoe was taught how to walk in his new footwear, and to sit in a longer skirt, fanning himself from time to time, but not overdoing it so that it looked natural, not like someone hiding something. Jack Morgan's limo came to their apartment building promptly at seven o'clock. The limo was very elaborate; long and sleek, and the driver had been sent up to collect the three of them. Conrad, Lorraine, and Zoe followed the driver down to the car. Zoe was bombarded by the strange new sensations of being female, and in public. A number of their fellow apartment dwellers had gathered on their balconies and porches to see the limousine, and to see who was inside. As well as whom the limo was picking up. Jack Morgan was leaning against the limo, signing autographs for a group of young men Zoe's age. He brushed them away as he saw the small group approach, and he smiled winningly, displaying all the charisma that had given him a bright career in the movies. "Hello, Lorraine, darling," he said, kissing the back of her hand. "You look radiant, my dear." "Thank you, Jack," she smiled in return. It was still flattering for a woman to be complimented by a handsome man, even if the handsome man were only really interested in other handsome men. "Conrad, you're looking sharp this evening," he said, giving Conrad a sly wink. "And this must be the lovely young lady must be Zoe..." Zoe swallowed, and tried not to freeze up as his movie idol did something he never imagined. Jack Morgan gently put his hand to the back of Zoe's neck, which made the crossdressed lad look into his deep brown eyes, just before their lips met tenderly. The kiss was short, and electric. Zoe felt almost as if the strength in his knees was suddenly drained away. "Hello, Jack," he said dumbly. "I've been a big fan of yours..." Of course, he never expected to meet his movie idol quite like this! Climbing into the limousine, Zoe was surprised to note there was another man inside. The screen between the compartments was put into place, so the driver couldn't see, or hear, what was happening in the rear of the vehicle, and Jack smiled. Zoe couldn't believe the opulence in which Jack Morgan lived. The handsome man next to Jack took one of Jack's hands in his own, and gave Lorraine and Zoe the once-over. "I'm David," he said. "I'm Jack's lover." "Pleased to meet you," said Conrad. "This is Zoe, our...protegee." "My, she looks far, far better than I expected her too," Jack said. "I was praying you weren't setting me up with some Rodeo Drive drag queen, but I must admit, Zoe, you're quite attractive. For a girl, I mean." Zoe practiced fluttering his eyelashes, the way Lorraine had been coaching him, and gave his batted his fan a few times. "Thank you," he said. "Not bad at all. Listen, darling," Jack said. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable with any of this. I know what you're doing, and why you're doing it. I understand. Hell, I admire you for it, Zoe." "Thank you," Zoe repeated. "Now, David and I have been lovers for the last four years," he continued, squeezing his lover's hand again. "And we're faithful to each other. But most people don't understand that it's perfectly natural for some people to be gay, so I have to hide my feelings about other men." "Gay?" Zoe said. "Gay," Jack replied. "It's a much nicer word than 'homosexual' or 'faggot', you must admit. Anyway, I can help you with your plans, if you agree to appear in public from time to time as my 'girlfriend'. It's a good arrangement, don't you agree?" The three guests in the limo nodded. "I happen to know Allison Maye quite well, my dears," he said. "What a cunt!" Zoe gasped. "Pardon my French, dear," he continued. "On the set, she's rude, arrogant, and totally self-involved. I can tell you're not, though, Zoe. The rumor mill has it that she's been tearing up the joint on the set of the movie she's filming right now. If she keeps on this way, in another few months, she'll be unemployable..." "Barely anyone wants to work with her now, for heaven's sakes!" David added. David was indeed a handsome man, perhaps even leading man material himself, with a chiseled jaw and intense blue-grey eyes. "I was doing stunts for her last picture, and she was hell on earth, even for the poor filming crew." "That's when you should be ready to strike, Zoe," finished Jack. "You do a small part or two, and when Allison blows up, in comes fresh-faced Zoe St. Germaine, who can do the same kinds of roles, but is a dream to work with. Trust me, darling, together we can go a long way!" "But what's in it for you, Jack," Conrad asked. Lorriane answered. "He gets to keep his secret," she said. "It's silly that the general public would even care that Jack's gay...but if he can show up on the arm of a pretty young thing..." "Like Zoe..." Jack said, smiling at the crossdressed lad. "Those rumours that have been circulating about him will fade away into nothing..." Conrad finished. "Not a bad plan at all." "Excuse me..." Zoe raised his hand. "I thought this was only going to last a few weeks. I didn't know it'd be so long." "Two, maybe three years, darling," Lorraine said. "Or until this beastly Depression is finally over, and the family can take care of themselves without our help." Zoe didn't like the possibility of being feminized for so long, but he had to go along with it. After all, they put up with him for fifteen years, and he wasn't even born into it. It was the least he could do for them. Still, it was awkward, pretending to be an eighteen-year-old female. The limo pulled into the parking lot of the Brown Derby, and the four of them exited, but not before Jack and David kissed each other good-bye, and David wished them all luck. Zoe felt a tug of guilt; Jack was only pretending to be involved with a girl named Zoe, so that his love for David wouldn't be public knowledge. That was every bit as unfair as his current, feminine predicament! A few press photographers, seeing the two couples, took pictures, and one reporter asked Jack who the new "doll" was on his arm. "A new discovery, boys," he said, as he stepped aside, letting them snap off pictures of the secretly-girlified young lad. "Her name is Zoe. Zoe St. Germaine. You'll all see much more of her in the future!" A female reporter came up to the group and asked Jack, who was holding poor Zoe close against his side, "Are there wedding bells in your future, Jack?" "Maybe," he smiled. "But I don't think I'm good enough for the likes of this young lady. Now, stand aside, please..." Zoe had to admit, at least to himself, that being held closely by Jack Morgan made him feel safe, even dressed as he was. His embrace was warm and masculine, which gave him a feeling of feminine vulnerability. "Just one question for the young lady, Jack," she insisted. Jack narrowed his eyes playfully. "Well, I guess one question won't hurt..." The assembled press laughed quietly. "Zoe," she asked. "How long have you and Jack known each other? Are you in love?" Zoe looked into the crowd, and said, in his best "girl voice", "We haven't known each other more than a week. You'll have to give me some more time..." Quickly, then, the four of them were swept into the restaurant, which was more opulent, more luxurious that Zoe (or Paul, for that matter) had ever imagined. There was a sixteen-piece band, with a lovely torch singer onstage, singing a Cole Porter tune; the trumpet player was Louis Armstrong! Handsome, tuxedoed men, and their elegantly-gowned dates were in attendance, obviously to see others and to be seen themselves. A quick scan of the crowd gave Zoe glimpses of Deanna Durbin, Paul Muni, Fay Wray, Robert Armstrong, Boris Karloff, and Lionel Barrymore! Zoe was stunned. Even though he wasn't a movie fan, he'd seen all these wonderful celebrities before, in various pictures. The maitre'd led the four of them to LRH's table, in an out-of-the-way corner of the club. LRH was already entertaining; he was chatting with someone Zoe didn't recognize, when he saw their small group approach. He rose, delighted to see Lorraine and Conrad. "And this must be the delightful Zoe," he gushed. "My, my...your cousin Lorriane wasn't joking, my dear! You are quite a fetching lass!" "Thank you, Mr. Hurley," Zoe fluttered his eyelashes as he'd been taught, and batted his fan a few times. Jack pulled out a chair for him, and he sat, smoothing his dress as he did so. Lorraine was very impressed; Zoe was doing better than she'd ever expected. LRH introduced them to the two people that had arrived before the four members of the Jack Morgan party had arrived. The two men were Rodney and Chester Bulworth, the producer and writers of the "Dusty and Bobby" short comedies. "I believe I might have a little trial run for your cousin, Lorraine," he said proudly. "Chester here has just written a new Dusty and Buddy short, called 'The Daffy Ballerina'. Tell us about it, Chester." "Well," he said, "It's a two-reeler. Our two boys, Bobby and Dusty, fall head over heels in love with a girl named Wendy. Now, they've been rivals for Darlene's affections since the beginnings of the series, so when this new girl arrives, she's jealous that their affections have been stolen by Wendy, who's in training to be a ballerina. Now, Wendy...that would be the character played by you, Zoe...doesn't like boys, and you and Darlene get together to play a trick on the two Dusty and Bobby. You've invited the boys to play dress-up in your back yard, and you trick them into wearing pretty pink tutus. Meanwhile, Darlene gathers all the neighborhood kids, and they all jump out at the last moment, embarrassing Dusty and Bobby horribly! The end, roll credits!!!" Zoe couldn't help but giggle. He'd seen the Dusty and Bobby comedies before, and didn't like them much at all. He pictured the two boys, dressed in tutus, embarrassed and humiliated. He noticed that both Conrad and Lorraine were laughing, too! "Boys in dresses are always a good laugh," said Rodney Bulworth. "We haven't done it before, and even though the boys hate the idea, it's not like they have a choice. They've signed contracts!" There was a big laugh around the table. Of course, for some of the people around the table, it was much funnier! The dinner and conversation went for about two hours; the dinner was light, and quite lovely. Luckily, Lorraine sat next to Zoe, who whispered instructions from time to time about how a "young lady" should eat dinner. Jack, who sat on the opposite side from Lorraine, kept putting his hand on Zoe's shoulders, and once in a while did the same as Lorraine, whispering an instruction or two. When the dinner was over, Jack stood, and asked Zoe to dance, adding playfully, "And I won't take 'no' for an answer, darling." Conrad echoed Jack's request; and together, the four of them left for the polished, elegant dance floor. On the way to the dance floor, the band began a slow tune. "I can't dance, Jack," he protested under his breath. "I've only been a girl for two days!" "Well, you're picking it up just fine, Zoe," he replied. "I'm giving you a dance lesson; you'll have to dance with LRH, at the very least. And I have to warn you," he said, taking Zoe gently into his arms, "that he will try to take advantage of you." Conrad and Lorraine were dancing away from the two of them. Zoe's eyes widened. "What?" "It's not like he's going to rape you or anything," Jack replied. "He just has a reputation for trying to bed every pretty young thing in a skirt. And in case you hadn't noticed, he'd been giving you the once-over the entire evening!" "I don't know if I can do this, Jack," he said. He felt safe in Jack's strong, masculine arms. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered, "If he gets too fresh, I'll just tell him he'd better back off." Sure enough, through the crowd came a smiling LRH. He tapped Jack on the shoulder, and asked, "Do you mind if I cut in, Jack?" Jack eased Zoe into the older man's arms. "Only if you promise to behave, Larry," he said with a smile. His eyes looked down into Zoe's. He was a friendly, handsome older gentleman, and didn't look like a masher at all. But as the dance continued, Zoe felt LRH's hand go lower and lower to his skirted derriere. "You really are a lovely girl, Zoe dear," he said. "I can tell you haven't dance much, though." Zoe smiled, fluttering his lashes. "I don't get out often. I'm not even eighteen yet, Mr. Hurley." "Young and precious," he replied. "You know, this town can be very bad for innocent young girls like yourself, my dear." Zoe nestled his head on LRH's shoulder, mostly to avoid that eye contact. "I don't understand," he replied. "If you're going to work for the Bulworth Brothers," he said, "You'll need an agent, or trust me, you won't see a dime for all your work. I wouldn't want that to happen to you; you might get disillusioned, and you'll leave before I can put you in one of my pictures!" "Well," Zoe replied, "we certainly don't want THAT to happen!" He reached behind him, to put LRH's hand in a more appropriate position than on his pretty young behind. He got the implication, and smiled devilishly. "Well, you can't blame me for trying, honey," he said. "I have a weakness for redheads..." "And blondes and brunettes, too, I hear," Zoe replied. LRH laughed. Zoe liked the sound. "You'll do just fine, Zoe," he said. "You'll do just fine!" Chapter Three Zoe's Hollywood Screen Test "That wasn't so bad, now, was it?" Lorraine and Zoe were in the apartment living room. Jack's limo had driven off, and David was happy to have Jack back in his arms. Conrad had jumped into the shower, as was his nightly habit. The two of them still wore their evening wear, as they talked. "I guess not," Zoe replied. "It went a lot better than I expected." "It went better than I expected, too, Zoe," she said. "Being a girl isn't an easy life, dear, but it does have it's benefits. Did you notice how well you were treated by everyone?" He nodded. "Everyone was very nice. It was certainly exciting, to see all those movie stars, too! Can I ask you a question, Lorrie?" "Certainly, Zoe." "Why don't you audition for parts in things?" Lorraine cleared her throat. "I do," she said. "Once in a while, I get work as an extra. I always send the money I get doing that home to Mom and the Twins." "But why is it so easy for me?" Zoe asked. "I've been here one day, and I have an audition for a Dusty and Bobby short; what's so special about me?" "Other than the fact that you're a boy dressed like a girl, quite a bit," Lorraine said. "You have a startling resemblance to Allison Maye, and that look is worth big money, for as long as it's popular. Obviously, the Bulworths saw that, and decided to get in on the ground floor. If they can take credit for making the first picture to star the young, promising starlet Zoe St. Germaine, it's a huge feather in their caps. Besides, it's kind of ironic, in a way..." "Ironic? How?" "Remember a few years ago? On Halloween, the Twins and I made you wear that Fairy Princess Ballet tutu?" "Yeah," he said, blushing. "I thought you were very, very pretty, dear," she said with a smile. "I kind of wanted to show you off, like you were one of my dollies. I guess now you will get to show off, as a ballerina!" Zoe swallowed. "About that...I don't know anything about Ballet..." "You don't have to, dear," she smiled. "That's one of the best things about working in Hollywood. If you look like you can do something, that's as good as actually being able to do it!" The two of them laughed. The next afternoon, Lorraine asked for, and got the afternoon off, and used it to help Zoe with his make-up and dressing him in a pretty, though casual green-and-white plaid gingham dress for his audition for the Bulworth Bros. The dress was short-sleeved, with an ankle-length skirt which fell in generous folds. A wide black leather belt and 2" pumps were next. Finally, Zoe was given one of Lorraine's purses to carry, and a wide-brimmed straw hat was pinned on his head, perched at a cute angle. Since Conrad couldn't get the day off, and neither of the "girls" had driver's licenses, they had to take the bus to the Strand Agency, and then over to Bulworth Bros. Studios. Zoe's heels were clicking prettily against the pavement as the two of them walked to the bus stop. "I'm nervous," he whispered. "Whatever for, darling?" his sister responded. "You did fabulously last night; everyone loved you." "But that was different," he explained. "Last night, I was surrounded by people who were show people." "Don't worry, keep smiling, and you'll do just fine," Lorraine smiled, demonstrating. "Now, when we get to the Strand Agency, just do what I said, and you'll walk out of there with everything you'll need." "You're Lorraine's sister?" asked Charles Goldberg. "You certainly don't have a family resemblance." "I'm adopted," Zoe said truthfully. "Alright," he replied. "So your name is Polly Peterson, and your screen name will be Zoe St. Germaine...I like it. I like it a lot. Obviously, so did the Bulworth boys, to give you an audition before you even had an agent." Zoe was signed up with the Strand Agency within the hour. He was photographed, and promised an official Strand Agency ID card; all of Zoe's banking transactions and such would be handled by the Strand Agency from that moment on. Of course, the crossdressed lad was a bit suspicious of the arrangement, but Lorraine assured him that the Strand was always on the up and up. A few photographs were taken, and Zoe was issued a Union Card in the Screen Actors' Guild with the name Zoe St. Germaine; he was also given the name and address of a fashion photographer, who would put together a portfolio of photographs for Zoe to send to the studio's casting departments, since he wasn't yet locked into a studio contract. Then, with the Union Card safely in his purse, they were off to the Bulworth Bros. Studio, where they were ushered in without delay; the gate security guards had "her" name on the list, and Lorraine had to register as a guest of Miss St. Germaine. The two guards watched the two of them pass. "Nice looking broads," Joe said to Herman. "The redhead has better legs, though," commented Herman. Zoe and Lorraine were ushered into the office Chester Bulworth, who was writing, casting, and directing 'The Daffy Ballerina'. Chester smiled as the two of them entered, and rising to greet the two of them, said, "How delightful it is to see you two beautiful ladies today!" He took Zoe's hand and lightly kissed it, doing the same with Lorraine's. "Of course," he pointed out, "I'd only expected to see Zoe." "She's nervous," Lorraine interjected. "It's her first audition." "I see," winked Chester. "And you never know," she continued, "sometimes wolves come out at these things. Especially when there's a skirt involved. Right, Mr. Bulworth?" He smiled nervously. Zoe blushed prettily, and wished he'd taken a fan to hide behind. "Well, there's certainly no hanky-panky going on at this studio, Miss St. Germaine," he said to Zoe. "Please, you two have a seat. Can I offer the two of you a drink?" "I'm too young for that, Mr. Bulworth," Zoe protested. "Nothing for me, either, thanks," Lorraine smiled. The two of them sat, while Chester arranged for the screen test. "All right," he said, "let me take care of this, first." While the two of them watched, Chester called the wardrobe department to send four costumes to soundstage four; a ballerina's tutu, an Old West dress complete with a bustle, a wedding dress, and an evening gown. The screen test was done by a young director, who was more than happy to allow for Zoe's inexperience and hesitancy. "Of course, you'll get over that, my dear," he said. The screen test was very tiring. The costumers, aided by Lorraine, put Zoe into all of the appropriate costumes, all of which were humiliating for a boy to be put into, not to mention being photographed in. A few times, he was worried about his secret being revealed, especially when one of the costumers noticed that Zoe was wearing a wig. Lorraine explained, patiently, that Zoe wasn't a natural redhead, and had recent bad experience with dying "her" hair. The matronly costumer shrugged, and said cheerfully, "Oh, well! Accidents happen, my dear. It'll all grow back before you know it!" During the screen test, Zoe could see only vaguely beyond the circle of light in the center of the soundstage. He was onstage in a beautiful wedding gown, when a man stepped into the spotlight with him. Zoe recognized him immediately. It was Ramon Navarro; he was once a big box-office draw, before sound came in and destroyed the careers of dozens of actors, who had never learned to speak English without an accent. Now, he was reduced to appearing in screen tests for young starlets! The camera came in for a close up, when Ramon lifted Zoe's bridal veil, and kissed him sensuously, romantically...and, Zoe admitted to himself (though heaven forbid he'd ever admit it) erotically as well. Under his voluminous bridal petticoats, he could feel his penis begin to swell as his lips came nearer and nearer to Zoe's. He nearly swooned when their lips touched, and Ramon's tongue began to explore Zoe's waiting mouth! The kiss ended, and Ramon was thanked for his participation. "You never have to thank me for kissing a girl, Chester," he said, winking flirtatiously back at Zoe, who was having a hard time standing, he was so aroused! Still, Zoe did his best, and when it was finally done, three long hours later, Zoe had never been so exhausted. He finally was changed back into his gingham dress, and told to go home and wait for the results of the screen test; the director assured Zoe and Lorraine that the Bulworths would be looking at it within an hour or so, even though they usually waited a day or two, watching the screen tests over and over before the two of them made final decisions. "He's a good kisser, isn't he?" Lorraine whispered. "What?" The two of them were the only passengers on the bus; they were heading back to the apartment. "Who?" "Mr. Navarro," said Lorraine. "I saw how you reacted to that kiss, Zoe. Either you should get the first Oscar ever awarded to a screen test, or that kiss really did it to you!" "I'm not sure I like what you're implying, Lorrie," Zoe huffed, looking out the window to avoid looking at his sister. "I'm not judging you, darling," Lorriane put her hand on Zoe's skirted knee. "I know lots of men who love other men. Contrary to popular belief, there's nothing wrong with it." Zoe looked his sister in the eye. "I'm not a fairy," he said, defensively. "I'm doing this for the family. It wasn't my idea to get all dressed up like a girl, and try out for a career in the movies! That was your idea." "Zoe..." she lowered her voice further. "Paul...like I said, I'm not judging you. But you should know that, no matter what, I'm your sister, and I will always love you, no matter what you decide to do. And so will Mother and the Twins. If you're gay, we'll still all love you, so long as you're happy." Zoe took his sister by the hand. "This is all so confusing, Lorrie," he said. "I've never been popular, or well liked. Now, now that I'm dressed up like a girl, people have been going out of their way to make things easy for me. I don't understand it." "Not much to understand, really," Lorraine replied. "A pretty face can open doors. If you were homely as a girl, you'd never even get in the door. Look in the mirror, Zoe. You make a lovely girl; if you learn to accept that, you can go far." Zoe waited a moment, considering. He looked down at himself, and saw his shaved legs poking out under a gingham dress. Being a girl did have some advantages, he thought. "I'll try, Lorraine," he said, raising his head firmly. "I'll try." "I know you will," Lorraine said. Chapter Four A Starlet is Born Allison Maye was irate. She hated everything about the new script for "Another Fine Miss". In the script, her usual character of the poor, pretty girl with the heart of gold discovers that she has a very, very rich sister, who was given up for adoption. To get close to her, and to get enough money to get her poor old mother to the doctor, her poor girl character disguises herself as a boy to get a job on their staff of servants. A boy! The more she thought about it, the more she hated the idea. Conrad had discovered the story in the latest "Variety". He'd brought the issue home to Zoe and Lorraine. Her mother and father, Helen and Max Mayfield, were also appalled at the very idea. Cutting off her lovely red hair was bad enough, but putting Hollywood's Little Darling in trousers and suspenders was just too damned much! Superior Studios, however, loved the rewritten script, and the head of the studio itself, Carl Meyer, pointed out to the Mayfields that because Allison had signed an exclusive contract to Superior, she couldn't turn down any script legitimately assigned to her, nor could she seek out work at a competitor's studio without permission from the head of the studio. And he wasn't about to do that! Of course, since the content of the script was confidential, no one outside the immediate production circle was privy to what was going on behind closed doors. However, the Mayfield family, and Allison Maye in particular, made their displeasure quite well known to the public. One day, she didn't show up for work on her current picture "Teacher's Pet". Allison only had two more pictures on her contract; the first