© 2003 by Thrillerauthor
It will be billed as "Fear Factor" meets "The Bachelor". Out of twenty-four contestants vying for the right to marry Mr. Right, one will secretly be a guy. If "she" survives the elimination rounds and makes it into the finals, when intimacy is to be expected prior to the climactic episode, all bets are off.
Andrea Messenger tossed the pitch sheet onto the tablecloth and poured skim milk into her muesli. Where did Hap come up with these ideas?
Hap Arnhold joined her at her banquette at the Polo Lounge a few minutes later, wearing the uniform of a Hollywood agent: black mock turtleneck, black slacks, black Armani jacket. Andrea's subdued dress made her feel like a peacock by comparison. A bad analogy, she thought to herself as Hap ordered his customary bagel and coffee. Weren't the females the drab sex in the bird world?
As if reading her mind, Hap started in. "Sex roles have been upside down in this town since 'Some Like it Hot', he said between mouthfuls of bagel, "and that documentary that A&E put on about guys and girls swapping places blew your network out of the water. Your ratings for the last 'Bachelor' were way down. This is the perfect way to add a little spice to a tired format."
"Come on, Hap, nobody would believe it. In the first place, there's no way a guy could last five minutes in that circus without being outed by one of the other girls. They'll all be out for blood."
"So, even if that happens, you'll have pumped your numbers for the first episode, which is crucial, I don't have to tell you. But think about it, Andrea: if these girls all want to win, won't it be in each of their interest to keep the fake girl in the competition as long as possible? There's no way she's going to win it, but each girl she knocks out in the early rounds improves the rest of their chances."
Andrea reflected on this as Hap took a call on his cell phone. "Hi, I'm in the lounge, sitting with a pretty woman in a blue dress," he said as he winked at Andrea. "Come join us." Tall and gangly, with dark curly hair and designer glasses, Andrea was hardly pretty, but she was used to agents kissing her ass.
Hap put his cell phone away and said apologetically, "Sorry, that was my assistant. Some papers I need to sign. Won't take a minute." Andrea looked up as a stunning blonde entered the restaurant and approached them hesitantly. She was tall and athletic looking, with terrific legs beneath her short pleated skirt, and she juggled her purse and briefcase as she waited for Hap to introduce her to Andrea.
"Andrea, meet Jan Peterson. Sit down, Jan, and join us." Jan slid onto the banquette next to Hap, a shy smile on her beautiful face.
The girl pulled a contract from her briefcase and handed it to Hap. Andrea looked at Hap in surprise as he slid it across the table to her. "Sign here, Andrea, and welcome your mystery contestant to 'The Bachelor'.
Andrea's jaw dropped as she stared at Jan, who blinked back at her nervously. "You mean, she's really...a guy?"
Jan blushed a bright crimson and started to get up from the table. Hap held his arm and told him to sit still as Andrea stared at him. If she hadn't been told, there was no way she would have guessed. "How long have you been dressing up like this?" she finally asked.
"I just started this year." His voice was soft and sweet, without a trace of masculinity, and Andrea noticed that his gestures and body language were totally feminine.
Andrea glanced down at the contract. "Your real name is Jan?"
"Yes."
"Are you gay?" Andrea asked.
"Really, Andrea, I'm surprised at you," Hap broke in. "I haven't heard that question in this town in years." Short and slender, with a shaved head and trim mustache, Hap was gay himself.
"Get real, Hap. I've got a mainstream audience. If we gay it up, you can write off the red states, and my sponsors would never go for it."
"I'm not gay," Jan answered before Hap could intervene again. "I'm a normal guy, and I like girls."
"Then why are you doing this?"
"How else am I going to break into this business? Here," he said, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a photo spread of a young man with a slight build and nondescript features. Andrea studied them and looked back at Jan. The resemblance was unmistakable, but Andrea had to admit to herself that Jan was infinitely more attractive as a woman. It was impossible to tell whether her wispy blonde hair was real or an expensive wig, her blue eyes sparkled, and her makeup was flawless. Andrea realized that she was already thinking of Jan as a she.
"Hap, I'm gonna have to run this by Mr. Goodkin, but I think he might just go for it. Jan, I want you to meet me in my office this afternoon at four o'clock. Here's my card." She folded up the contract and put it into her briefcase. "And wear something casual. If we're going to pull this off, you'll have to live in the Girls' House for at least two weeks, and that means yakking it up in jeans and a tee shirt till all hours of the night with a school of piranha. Do you think you're ready for that?"
"Bring it on," Jan smiled sweetly. "They'll never know what hit them."
* * *
"This is Sam Ruben with the Hollywood Report. As all of America knows by now, tonight's opening episode of 'The Bachelor' has an amazing twist: one of the would-be brides is not what she seems. But which of the 24 lovely ladies is really a man? That's the question that everybody is talking about. ABC is expecting a record audience tonight as America tunes in to the ultimate gender-bender. Will the other girls give her away, or will they help cover for her to better their own odds? And can Jason, last year's runner-up in 'The Bachelorette', figure her out in time?"
Jan switched off the television in his bedroom at the Girls' House and stretched. Dressed in a yellow nightshirt that came to mid-thigh, he surveyed himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. His blonde hair had grown long enough over the past several months to be styled into a shag, which he absent-mindedly fluffed as he turned sideways to inspect his figure. Jan had reluctantly initiated a minimal regimen of female hormones, prescribed by a disreputable Dr. Feelgood, after the network signed his contract. Hap Arnhold had convinced him that the temporary side effects would be well worth it if they prolonged his exposure on national television. As he raised his nightshirt and appraised his softer skin and emerging curves, Jan admitted to himself that the tradeoff had been necessary. Although his budding breasts were barely an A-cup, in a Wonder bra he had a hint of cleavage, almost as much as some of the other girls.
And his long, slim legs were the best in the competition, an edge which Jan exploited with his carefully chosen wardrobe of short outfits. At the taping of the first episode, when the girls promenaded in cocktail attire, Jan had stolen the show in a little black dress. It would be fun to watch himself wearing it on television tonight, especially since he already knew the outcome: Jan was among the twelve girls who had received a rose, the ticket to the next round of eliminations.
Today's taping of the next episode was going to take place at Dodger stadium, where the girls would be expected to cavort with ballplayers on the sidelines before taking their seats with Jason in a plush skybox. So far, Jan had managed to get by with only a few shy words to Jason, and he hoped that the hubbub of the ballgame would provide enough of a distraction for him to pass for another round.
Jan peeled off his nightshirt and took a long, hot shower, shaving his legs as he did so. One of the stipulations which the network had agreed to when they let Jan into the competition was to give each contestant a private bedroom and shower. The Girls' House was, in fact, a compound consisting of twelve two-bedroom townhouses clustered around a clubhouse with a dining and recreation area, where the girls hung out and mugged for the television cameras. The girl who occupied the other bedroom in Jan's townhouse had been eliminated in the first round, a huge break which meant that he now he had the entire unit to himself.
Jan's contract specified that his income would increase significantly the longer he stayed in the competition, and he was determined to make it into the quarterfinals. Once the field was narrowed to half-a-dozen girls, he had no illusions about his ability to survive the mounting scrutiny from the television audience, the media, and the other girls, not to mention poor Jason. Up to now, this had all been a bit of a lark for him, but there was no way Jason was going to become a laughingstock on national television by allowing a guy to become his dream girl.
With these heavy thoughts, Jan selected his outfit for the day. The other girls would be wearing shorts and Dodgers tee shirts, Jan figured, but he needed to look ultra-feminine. It was going to be a warm afternoon, with Santa Ana winds, and Jan had just the thing for it: a pink and white sundress that would barely cover his ass. That, a pair of panties to match his obligatory Wonder bra, and some strappy sandals would knock them dead.
Jan blow-dried his hair and ran a polished nail over his face. Although the hormones had reduced his beard to next-to-nothing, he gave himself a close shave before putting on his makeup. Glancing at the clock on the bathroom vanity, he hurried back into the bedroom and quickly got dressed. As an afterthought, he rummaged through his dresser for an old Dodger sun visor, which he perched on top of his blonde head. Surveying himself once again in the full-length mirror, he smiled in approval. Jan Peterson was as cute as a bug.
* * *
Gloria Alvarez looked up from her bowl of cereal as Jan bounced into the dining room. "Well, if it isn't Miss Sunshine! Look at you, girly girl. At least we know one of us isn't a guy."
Jan stuck out his tongue as he pulled out the chair next to Gloria's and sat down, nonchalantly tucking his short dress under himself as he did so. "Don't worry, Gloria, your secret's safe with me," Jan said cheerily. A waiter materialized and took Jan's usual order: half a grapefruit, English muffin, and black coffee.
Gloria leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Really, Jan, I think I've got this figured out. Becca is the guy. Look at her," she said, motioning with her head towards Rebecca Forte, a stunning brunette who was sitting by herself reading the Los Angeles Times sports pages. "Becca's been talking about going to this stupid game non-stop all morning, finally drove the other girls off. She's got to be the guy."
Jan smiled to himself as he spooned a wedge of grapefruit into his mouth. "Maybe. But look at you, Gloria. Jeans and a sweatshirt. Are you afraid of showing us your muscles?" In fact, Gloria was quite petite, with flashing eyes and a constant smile.
Gloria laughed and said, "I'll tell you one thing, at least I throw like a girl. Rumor has it that we're all going to play catch with some of the Dodgers, and I'll betcha the guy gives himself away right there."
Jan laughed as he nibbled on his muffin. That would be tricky, all right. Jan had played second base on his high school varsity in Omaha, and he would have to fem it up when they got to the ballpark. After all he had been through to get this far, he wasn't about to blow it all by catching a fly ball.
"What makes you think our mystery man is still in the competition?" Becca chimed in from across the room. "We all know it was Charlene."
