Chapter 7: The Disguise Dilemma

Charlotte

It was supposed to be a beautiful day. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and yet there I was, sitting on the couch like a prisoner waiting for judgment day. My heart was in my throat, and I couldn’t even focus on the cheesy romantic movie playing in front of me. I was supposed to be preparing for a meeting… as a man. 

Emma, ever the optimist, grabbed my hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “Today is your day! Trust God, believe in yourself, and make it happen.” She flashed me a grin. “You’ve got this, Charlotte. I trust you.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” I muttered. “You’re not about to impersonate a guy in front of a billionaire.”

“Hey, chin up!” Emma tapped my nose like I was a sulking toddler. “Besides, how hard can it be? Just act like a man. Eat like you’ve never seen food before, and talk like emotions are some kind of disease.”

I snorted, feeling slightly better. “That sounds ridiculous.”

“It’s true though,” she said, trying to stifle her giggle. “Just don’t cry if Charles compliments you. Men don’t do that.”

---

By the time the clock hit 11:00, I felt like a cow being led to the slaughterhouse. I shuffled into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. The reflection staring back was not Charlotte Jackson. No, this was ‘Mason Williams,’ a rugged, totally believable man. Or at least, that’s what I told myself. The wig itched, the fake beard looked like I glued bits of carpet to my face, and my suit made me feel like I was drowning in fabric.

“Alright, Mason,” I told my reflection. “Don’t blow it.”

---

Charles

The knock on my office door was soft but steady. I liked that. Confidence in a man was important. I leaned back in my chair, preparing to meet the mysterious Mason Williams who had saved me the other day. "Come in," I called.

The door opened, and in walked… a man, I supposed. But something was off. The man looked a bit like he had been put together in a hurry. His suit seemed too big, and his walk—let’s just say he walked like he was trying to sneak into a room full of sleeping lions.

“Good day, sir,” came a voice that could only be described as a teenager trying to sound like Darth Vader. I raised an eyebrow.

“Mr. Mason Williams?” I asked, trying to hide my skepticism. 

“Yes, sir,” he—well, she, obviously—said, clearing her throat as if the act alone could deepen her voice. She looked nervous. Why was she so nervous?

“You saved me yesterday,” I said, leaning forward. “Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

“I felt embarrassed about the last interview,” Mason—I mean Charlotte—blurted, wringing her hands. “I’m really sorry, sir.”

I grinned. “Embarrassed? You fought like Bruce Lee in a suit! Where did you learn those moves?”

Charlotte blinked, clearly unprepared for the compliment. “Oh, um, well I learned those for—uh—acting. You know, as an act—” Her eyes went wide, realizing what she had just said. “I mean, not acting. Like, I’m not an actor. I’m just, you know, doing roles for, um—life.”

I narrowed my eyes, stifling a laugh. “Interesting,” I said slowly. “So you’re telling me you learned martial arts… for life?”

Charlotte—or ‘Mason’—nodded vigorously. “Exactly, sir. Always gotta be ready to kick life’s butt, you know.”

The answer was so ridiculous that I almost burst out laughing. But something about this person intrigued me. Whether they were hiding something or just incredibly awkward, I couldn’t tell. 

---

Charlotte

I could feel the sweat pooling under my wig as I silently begged the ground to swallow me whole. “Kick life’s butt”? Really, Charlotte? That’s the best you’ve got? I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Charles leaned back in his chair, watching me closely. “Well, Mr. Mason, you’ve impressed me. My current PA couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag. In fact…” He pressed a button on his desk. “Let’s fix that.”

In walked Charles’s current PA—a scrawny guy with glasses that were way too big for his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. “Yes, sir?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Listen,” Charles said casually, “I’ve been thinking… you’re fired.”

The poor PA’s face went as white as a ghost. “What? But sir—”

“No, no, no need to beg,” Charles interrupted. “Mr. Mason here is going to take over. Oh, and have HR give you 2000 dollars as a severance package.”

I almost choked on my spit. 2000 dollars?! For a PA job?! My legs felt like they were going to give out right there, but I forced myself to stand tall, smiling awkwardly as the other guy shuffled out of the office.

“Well, congratulations, Mr. Mason,” Charles said with a grin. “You’re hired.”

I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. “Th-thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

---

Charlotte

The second I got home, I dropped the act. The door slammed shut, and I threw my wig onto the couch. "Oh my gosh!" I screamed, half-laughing, half-crying. Emma ran in from the kitchen, wide-eyed.

"What happened?" she asked, panicked. "Did Charles fire you already?"

I practically tackled her in a hug. “No, I got the job! AND… he gave me a 2000-dollar bonus!”

Emma stared at me like I had just told her I was the queen of England. “Wait… you got the job?”

“Yes!”

“And three million?”

“Yes!”

Emma screamed so loud that the neighbors probably thought we were being murdered. We jumped up and down like schoolgirls until we collapsed onto the couch, out of breath.

“You’re buying dinner tonight,” Emma said, still gasping for air.

I nodded, grinning like a maniac. “Deal.”

Sure! Here’s a different cliffhanger that will keep the readers hooked without revealing too much too early:

---

As Charlotte walked back home after her eventful day, her mind replayed every moment. The job was hers, but the weight of her disguise felt heavier than ever. Just as she began to relax, her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t an unknown number—it was a text from Emma.

“Call me. Urgent.

Charlotte frowned, her heart suddenly pounding as she dialed Emma’s number. After two rings, Emma picked up, her voice frantic.

“Charlotte, you need to get home now!”

“What’s going on?” Charlotte’s stomach tightened. 

“It’s Olivia. She—” Emma’s voice cracked with emotion. “She saw something. Something that might ruin everything.”

The line went

dead before Charlotte could respond, leaving her standing frozen in the middle of the street, her pulse racing.