Wrong Position, Right Fit (1/4)

Jake thought his luck had finally turned. After seven months of barely scraping by, he’d landed what seemed like the perfect accounting job with a firm across the country. Desperate for steady income, he packed up and made the move. Walking into the office Monday morning in his best suit, he actually let himself feel a bit of hope. It didn’t last long.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Smith," the woman from HR said, glancing nervously at her computer screen. “There’s been… a clerical mix-up. The accounting position you were hired for was actually filled three weeks ago. It shouldn’t have still been in the system.”

Jake blinked. “What?”

She winced. “I know, I know. We’re trying to fix it. But it could take a couple weeks before a suitable role opens up in your department.”

“I just moved here!” Jake said, his voice rising. “I was going to use my first paycheck for rent!”

“Well, I… uh…” She glanced at her screen, clearly flustered. “There is something available, but…” She trailed off.

Jake leaned in. “I’ll take it.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice uncertain, almost cautious.

He nodded, jaw tight. “Yes. Whatever it is. I’ll take it.”

“Okay…” she said slowly, her tone softening as she reached for a notepad. She scribbled something down, hesitated, then tore the paper free and handed it to him with a nervous smile. “You’ll need to go to this address. They’ll… help you get prepared for the position.”

After a short cab ride across town, Jake stepped into the salon, unsure if he was even in the right place. The smell of hairspray and perfume filled the air, mingling with the low hum of dryers and idle chatter. He hesitated just inside the doorway, glancing around.

A woman looked up from behind the counter, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “There you are,” she cooed. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Before he could get a word out, she was already at his side, gently but firmly ushering him toward a room in the back of the salon.

They started with the waxing. He barely had time to sit down before warm strips were pressed against his skin and ripped away with practiced precision. Arms, legs, chest—nothing was spared. His brows were plucked and reshaped into a soft, feminine arch without a second thought. The technicians chatted idly as they worked—weekend plans, boy trouble, office gossip—never once acknowledging the wide-eyed man squirming in the chair.

His hair was trimmed, shaped, and styled into long, professional layers that framed his face in soft waves. The makeup followed without pause—powder evened out his freshly smoothed skin, leaving no hint of the boy who’d walked in. Blush was swept across his cheeks, softening his features into something rounder and gentler. A faint shimmer touched his eyelids, just enough to catch the light. His lashes were curled and brushed with a light coat of brown mascara. Finally, a muted pink lipstick was pressed onto his lips, giving them a clean, polished shape that looked naturally soft—too soft.

The moment his makeup was finished, they were already brushing adhesive onto the breast forms and pressing them firmly against his chest. Once they were satisfied with the placement, they slipped a silky pearl blouse over his arms, buttoned it snug around his new curves, and tugged a high-waisted pencil skirt up around his hips. Black kitten heels were guided onto his bare feet without a word. A delicate necklace was fastened at his neck, and with a few final adjustments, they led him out to the front.

He teetered across the sidewalk, each step in the kitten heels more awkward than the last. The breeze tugged at the hem of his skirt, and the weight of the breast forms made the blouse cling in ways he wasn’t ready for.

His face burned as he stepped into the lobby again, the sound of his heels echoing across the polished floor. Just a few hours ago, he’d walked in here in a suit. Now? His arms were smooth. His lips tingled. His nails clicked softly as he pushed open the frosted glass door of HR. The woman behind the desk looked up, blinking—then her eyes lit with recognition.

“Oh! You made it back,” she said brightly. “Wow, they really did a nice job with you.”

He swallowed hard. “Why…” he began, then looked away. “Why did they make me look like a woman?”

She paused, giving him a soft, almost apologetic smile. “I… tried to tell you earlier,” she said gently. “The position we had open—well, it’s for a secretary. And under our company’s diversity hiring commitments, it needed to be filled by a female-presenting candidate.”

He stared at her, stunned. “You said you’d take anything,” she reminded him. “You needed something fast… and this was the fastest opening we had.”

She opened a drawer, pulled out a thin strip of plastic attached to a pink lanyard, and held it out for him. “Here you go, hon. You’re all set. Welcome aboard.”

He looked down at it—Jade. Secretary.

He swallowed, cheeks burning as he clipped it on. Hopefully… this would only be for a week or two.