Clarke #3
“Good. Bring one of them to me tomorrow,” Sofia said. “That will help.” After retrieving a fabric tape measure from her craft room, Sofia took Clarke’s measurements and wrote them down.
They tested the DSV potion, deciding that two drops were perfect for Clarke. Three were too much, making her voice sound unnatural.
The next day heralded a request for a second interview at the end of the week, this time with Dean Stanhope. Nervous but hopeful, Clarke brought Sofia one of the sports bras that squished her boobs the most. Clarke then drove to the next town, where she was less likely to run into people she knew.
She wore one of the bracelets that Harry had charmed, and purchased two button-down shirts in her size. The cashier addressed her as sir, making a point to touch Clarke’s fingers when she handed over the bag.
Clarke was momentarily startled, but glad that had happened. Mate bonds, another phenomenon resulting from the meteor barrage, were detected through skin-to-skin contact. Touching fingers was a polite, non-invasive way of doing that.
And it wasn’t just evolved humans who had the possibility of that connection. Sofia was fully human, but both her husbands were bonded mates, though she hadn’t met Dale until after Hannah’s father had died.
Clarke was accustomed to men finding reasons to touch her hands.
A woman touching her to detect a potential bond proved that the disguise was working.
It was also a reminder that Clarke would need to act like it was normal for women to touch her hands instead of men. That hadn’t occurred to her until now.
She also had to get used to not carrying a purse. Clarke felt naked without one. Having to put everything in her pockets was aggravating.
Her phone was a wafer-thin slider, and barely weighed anything. It fit in her pocket fine. That wasn’t the issue.
Clarke liked large handbags in cheerful colors. She threw everything she could possibly need in her purses, from tampons, to sunglasses, and facial tissues. Pockets were woefully inadequate in comparison.
The second interview went as well or better than the first. Dean Stanhope, who Clarke guessed to be in his early sixties, was personable with a warm manner.
He was passionate about education, and firmly believed in what Mars College stood for.
They had a pleasant conversation on a variety of topics.
Wanting to hear about it in person, Hannah’s family invited her over for dinner again. Clarke took Slob for a walk, then drove over.
“I’m trying not to have expectations, but I feel like the interview went really well,” Clarke said when Dale asked about her discussion with the dean.
“They’d be idiots not to want you for this job,” Hannah said. “You’ll get it.”
“I hope so. I’m banking on this to find Dad,” Clarke said.
“Think positive. You are fully qualified for the position,” Dale pointed out.
“I agree. Now, come with me, Clarke. I have something for you to try on,” Sofia said.
Clarke followed her into the craft room. Sofia handed her the sports bra and a tank top. It wasn’t a normal one, though. The tank had quilted, padded inserts on the front and sides. It attached to the bra.
Clarke tried them on immediately. The padding on the front started just below her breasts. It made her look flat-chested without mashing her boobs and affecting her breathing. The padding on the sides disguised the indent of her waist.
“Sofia, this is genius. I can’t thank you enough,” Clarke said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re like another daughter to me,” Sofia said. “We all want you to find Charlie, and will help any way we can.”
Clarke put her shirt on, and looked at herself in the mirror. With the haircut and no makeup, she looked like a man. She stepped out of the room to show Dale and Hannah.
“Wow,” Hannah said. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were a guy.”
“No one will be the wiser,” Dale said.
“Clarke, go ahead and change. I want to take the tank in on the sides, and use it for a pattern, now that I know this works,” Sofia said. “I’ll make several, so you can wash them by hand and hang them to dry if you need to.”
Clarke nodded, and went back to the craft room. If she had to use public washers and dryers, the sports bras and tank tops could be discovered too easily. It would be best to have several of each so she could wash them in the bathroom.
She would also need a way to hide feminine products. The apartment was private, but security would probably check all her bags at the guardhouse. Clarke walked into the living room to hear Hannah praising her mother.
“You’re brilliant, Mom,” she said. “The modified tank top was the finishing touch Clarke needed to really sell this.”
“Exactly. With the charms, potion, and now this, I feel more confident in this plan,” Clarke said.
“And you will be prepared to fool everyone at that school for as long as you need to,” Sofia said. “I’m just glad it worked.”
“When you put it that way, I feel kind of shitty about doing this,” Clarke said.
Taking advantage of the sexual identity laws when Clarke would never actually entertain the thought of changing genders, already felt like compromising her ethics. She would be deceiving all of her coworkers and students. That was horrible.
“This is necessary, Clarke,” Sofia said firmly. “Anyone at that school could be involved in Charlie’s disappearance. It could be more than one person, and kidnapping your father might not be the extent of their crimes. If they discover who you are, you could also be in danger.”
She was right. There could be much more to this. Clarke shoved the momentary pang of guilt away. She had a very good reason for going through with this charade.
“Yeah, I’ve wondered what the motive could possibly be if Dad was abducted,” Clarke commented. “And how did they know he would be at that rest stop? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It had to be a crime of opportunity,” Hannah said. “You’ll figure it out.”
They sat down to eat then, and talked strategy. Clarke agreed that it would be best to search the offices before students arrived for the term. One of the students could be involved, but she needed to explore every possibility.
Hannah, who was currently staying with her parents, would move into Clarke’s house and take care of Slob. Clarke would miss Slobby terribly, but she couldn’t take him with her.
Three days later, Clarke read the email from Dean Stanhope with a sense of unreality, then read it again to be sure she wasn’t mistaken.
She had the job. Barely glancing at the proposal and offered salary, Clarke accepted the position, thanking Dean Stanhope for the opportunity, and sent the email. Holy shit, this was really happening.