“Don’t you dare mention a thing,” ‘Angie’ said as she walked up to me. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. Don’t tell him a thing about us.”
Her breasts jiggled in such a tantalizing way I couldn’t keep my eyes of them. At first I thought I was crazy, seeing my old friend’s face on such a beautiful and curvy woman, but it is him. Rather, it used to be him. I haven’t seen him in over a decade, but we were best friends once. Back in college, when we both were planning our futures. I had no idea that this was going to be his future. Not that I judge him for it, I am not some sort of bigot, but it’s rather strange. He never showed any signs of wanting to be a woman, back then.
“Can you taste this cake? Let me know if it tastes right. Angie said.
“Oh… okay,” I stammered. “It is you, isn’t it? What the fuck happened?”
“Don’t…” Angie snarled. “Don’t even bring it up. He can’t know. He’s my husband and he thinks I’m a woman. We don’t know each other. Just treat me like you’ve never met me before.”
I knew him when he was called Barry. Not a name at all similar to ‘Angie.’ But much of his current life seems nothing alike the life he had when I knew him. He was always a short and skinny guy, but not really that feminine. We got on together because we were both aspirational. We both wanted to make it big. Earn a lot of money, and get a lot of respect. When I stopped hearing from him as we grew older, I just assumed we drifted apart the way college friends often do. I had no idea he had decided to completely reinvent himself
“You know I did not realise that I was going to see you here,” I said. “Your husband is my boss. It’s fucking blowing my mind that you’ve not only become a woman, but you’ve become my boss’s wife! How the fuck am I not supposed to bring it up.”
“Alright, I get that it’s crazy,” Angie said. “But I’ve created a solid backstory for myself. He thinks that I was born a woman, and I don’t want him to know that I used to have a dick. It would ruin our marriage. And I need this.”
“Do you love him?” I asked.
“I love his cash,” Angie said. “Fine, judge me all you want. I failed at making my own money. I decided to become a gold digger. He’s old, he’ll die at some point, and I’ll get his fortune. If you think that makes me a bad person, then that’s fair. But I don’t want you to ruin this.”
It is true. My boss, her husband, was getting older. He wasn’t a frail octogenarian, but it would not surprise anyone if he suddenly got a heart attack and dropped dead. I couldn’t believe that my friend had decided to become a woman just for wealth, though. This all seemed way too insane. But I also knew that I had to keep his secret.
“I’ll tell you what,” Angie said. “If you act like we’re total strangers who just met, then I will tell my husband you’re perfect for a promotion. And maybe we can meet up sometime later, in secret, and I will tell you more about how to impress the old man. I can help you become his favourite employee.”
“Okay, I’ll pretend I don’t know you,” I said. “But why would you help me like that?”
“Well, you’re a decent guy and my friend,” Angie said. “And you’re also quite handsome. Good husband-material. Y’know, once my current husband’s dead.”
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