" He smiledand grabbed the bottle and glass, turning towards the kitchen to goabout his business.Rose sat upright on the sofa with her eyes wide. Surely he had seen hermasculine body? She looked down and didn't notice any significant newchanges. It dawned on her that maybe, just maybe, if whatever wascausing this could change her clothes than it might be able to changethe people around her as well. Maybe this was how Sean always thoughtshe looked. Her hand touched her panties and felt no discernibledifference. At least for now she was still a woman. If she crossed thethreshold would that make Sean gay? For that matter, would that make hergay?Determined to make the best of the situation before things had gone toofar for her, she stood up and prowled her way into the kitchen trying tomove her new contours as sexily as she could. She found Sean closing thefridge with a piece of pizza hanging from his mouth. When he looked upand noticed her, the pizza fell forgotten from his. "Jesse, this is bad. I told you that you should report all money." She held up the single sheet of paper she removed from the manila envelope. "This is a notification of an audit." So? I got seven years of receipts and bank deposits and every statement since I started." What about your found money? You listed all your expenses, but not all your income. We have to do some tall explaining if we want to hang onto this ranch."Her voice raised a notch as she said, "Jesse you may have caused us to lose our home with your stupidity." Marie got up from the table and went outside. She stood on the front porch with head bowed. She had grown to love this ranch and this country in a very short time. This was now her home. The panic built up inside her, She started to relive the time Barry took over her life and ... she fainted.
As he leaned over the counter to pick up the book, something dropped inside Ian. The secretary was not dressed in the way that the school secretaries he knew were usually attired. For one thing, it was a gloved hand that handed him the pen, a long, tight, black latex glove that ran all the way up her arm. Ian's eyes followed the glove all the way up a creamy-skinned bicep that flooded out into a glorious expanse of cleavage, held upright by a latex bustier. He swallowed audibly as he took the pen. The receptionist winked at him.It was not the sort of thing Ian felt equipped to query, and her saucy, self-assured wink answered as many questions as he could have asked in any case. Hastily, he scribbled his name and looked back at the receptionist, trying to talk to her face, not the set of busty protuberances that had popped out in front of him.'Miss Taylor is head of supply,' she said, 'just take a seat and I'll give her a call.''Thanks,' Ian said.'No, thank you,' the receptionist.