Emmet's Greek Adventure

Part 1

The warm Mediterranean breeze gently played with Amber's loose blonde hair, twisting it like the unruly threads of fate, which had spun completely out of control over the past few days.

— Damn it… — she muttered through clenched teeth, wincing slightly as she leaned against the nearest rope. — My leg again…

Her heavy breasts, which seemed to weigh over a ton, immediately pulled her skin and the soft fabric of her dress tight, reminding her of their presence like it was something one could ever forget.

— Oh God… — Amber exhaled with a crooked smile. — This is getting ridiculous.

— I wouldn’t say it’s ridiculous, koukla mou… — came a soft, slightly husky male voice from behind, carrying that distinct Greek accent that sent a chill down her spine.

Amber turned around. A tall, tanned guy in a white linen shirt, slightly unbuttoned at the chest, stood there with his arms crossed, squinting at the setting sun. His dark eyes slid down her figure, lingering at the neckline of her dress.

— On the contrary… it’s beautiful. The way you stand there, how the wind plays with your hair… You look like a scene from a movie, omorfi. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were an actress.

She pressed her lips together. It would've been easier if he just threw some vulgar comment her way. Instead, a lump of shame, fear, confusion, and agonizing hopelessness instantly rose inside her and got stuck somewhere near her throat. It choked her breath, but she managed to squeeze out an awkward half-smile, the corners of her lips trembling painfully.

— Thanks… — her voice sounded too soft, too… feminine. And that pissed her off more than anything else.

She turned around, hurrying to take another step, but the sharp pain from the damn pebble that had gotten between her heel and flip-flop reminded her it was still there. She stumbled, but immediately felt a strong male hand stopping her from even attempting to fall.

— Careful… — he said softly, keeping his hand on her waist.

She slowly turned back to him. His face was way too close. Her cheeks instantly flushed red, but the voice of reason—more precisely, the voice of Emmet—screamed inside her head, reminding her how utterly wrong all this was. She shoved him away sharply, pulling back like she'd touched a hot iron.

Part 2

— Don’t touch me! — she snapped, yanking herself out of his hands so sharply that her wind-tousled hair whipped across her cheeks.

The guy stepped back, raising his palms in a peace gesture.

— Sorry, it’s just… you almost fell, thea mou.

She took a deep breath, her Breasts, noticeably and painfully for her, stretching the neckline of the dress and tightening the straps over her shoulders. How much she already hated these moments. In just three days, it felt like she had learned these stupid Greek words faster than she got used to the sound of her new voice. Koukla mou. Thea mou. Omorfi. All of it like yet another constant reminder of what she had become.

— I won’t forgive you, just go wherever you were going before I… — she hesitated. Before I what? immediately popped into her head. Before I start crying? Before I break down? Before I start screaming like some hysterical chick who loves silicone, expensive brands, and attention? The word chick and attention came up by themselves, and they terrified her all over again. And that was only one of the parts she had discovered inside herself during these days. It was like there was nothing left of Emmet Johnson, the 25-year-old young but insanely ambitious employee, a career-driven guy aiming for a management position at Bennett & Co, where he had already made connections with someone who knew the owner's son, who, how lucky, just happened to be vacationing here in Greece at the same time.

Fucking gypsy witch! Amber thought, brushing her hand over her Boobs, trying to get rid of an invisible tickle that made her itch, and immediately regretted it as those two rebellious curves bounced slightly, catching the Greek guy’s eyes. His pupils dilated, and he absentmindedly licked his lips. And inside her — an icy lump, anger, and… something else. Something disgusting, like shame mixed with guilt. She quickly turned away and limped toward the nearest bench, feeling the pull of the dress tight around her thigh.

— Em… Emmet? — came a voice behind her, familiar, with a nervous chuckle, like he couldn’t believe he had just called her that.

Part 3

Amber turned around. Standing in front of her was Zack, her best friend since college. The same guy who insisted on this trip. The one who saw her—back when she was still a man—in ripped jeans and a T-shirt, grumbling about the local heat, walking up to that damn old woman standing in the square with a sign: “Σου λέω την αλήθεια – I tell you who you truly are.” Who the hell knew she meant “truly” that literally.

— Jesus… you look like… — he hesitated, glanced around, and stepped closer. — You look like you just walked off the cover of Vogue. And at the same time — like you wanna kill somebody. Did you find her?

Amber raised her eyes. She shook her head.

— Nowhere. No one’s seen her. No one’s heard of her. It’s like she vanished into thin air. I asked the shopkeepers, the hotel manager… That witch just disappeared.

Zack raised his brows, surprised, but then his eyes went even wider.

— Christian Dior? What kind of shopkeepers were you talking to? — Zack squinted slightly, glancing down at her feet. — You fucking hated all that fashion crap!

— I know! — Amber almost screamed, throwing her hands up as if shielding herself. — Those stores were on the way, for fuck’s sake, and I walked in… First I asked about the old lady, and then this girl told me how beautiful I looked and… — she swallowed, realizing what she was saying, her eyes darting down. Her huge cleavage blocked the view, but her thoughts immediately spiraled off to something else, starting with the sandals. — Zack… I think I… I blew almost all my cash on this useless shit!

She couldn’t hold back a short laugh, loaded with nervous hysteria. A wave of heat flared up in her chest.

— Wait… all of it? — Zack frowned and straightened, stepping closer. — You’re telling me you seriously dropped almost three grand on a summer dress, sandals, and a fucking handbag?

Amber brushed her hair off her face — smooth, graceful, and it made her feel sick. The movement came off way too natural. Like her body already knew exactly what to do to look feminine.

Part 4

— It wasn’t just that, — she whispered. — There’s also cream, lipstick, some masks… and I don’t even know why! I walked in just to ask — and then I was already standing in line at the checkout. That salesgirl, the way she looked at me… I just wanted to show her that I…

— Show her what? — Zack cut in sharply.

She looked up at him, her eyes already gathering a hint of moisture at the corners.

— …that I really am like that, — Amber finally forced out, swallowing the lump in her throat. — That I’m not just some random broke loser walking in… That I’m not… — she hesitated, the words tasted toxic, — not some poor nobody, but… fuck, no, I can’t, I don’t even want to say it!

— Like you’re… actually one of them? — Zack’s voice sliced through the air like a rusty knife scraping glass. — Like some rich, glamorous chick buying hundred-dollar cream so she can “glow” even at night?

Amber clenched her teeth, her cheeks flushed again — not from embarrassment, from anger. Or… no. That was embarrassment, wasn’t it? God, how did everything get so damn complicated? She shook her head slightly. But the words came out on their own.

— Kinda… yeah, — she finally blurted out, struggling to swallow and deciding to switch the topic. — You… you find anything?

She wanted to sound firm, like Emmet would’ve sounded. To show she still had control of the situation, that this was just some ridiculous accident, and when she got her body back, Emmet — like he promised — would be dragging Zack up the corporate ladder right along with him. There was still a chance, the owner’s son would be here for a few more days, they already knew where he was staying, they even had a plan to meet him… if only it weren’t for that damn witch.

Zack exhaled loudly, scratched the back of his head… and stared straight at her Breasts without even blinking. It wasn’t just a glance — it was a goddamn car crash happening live. He didn’t even bother to pretend he was looking anywhere else.

— There’s still a chance, the owner’s son will be here for a few more days, — Amber muttered, feeling the skin on her Breasts get sensitive under that stare. — We already know where he’s staying, we had a plan to meet him, if it wasn’t for that fucking witch…

— Uh-huh… — Zack mumbled, still staring like his eyes suddenly became magnetically attached.

Part 5

— Zack, for fuck’s sake! — she snapped, covering the neckline of her dress with her hand. — You’re staring like some teenager in a locker room, damn it!

— I… uh… — Zack blinked, tearing his eyes away from the sight that had been driving him into some weird internal mess for the past three days. — Sorry, Em. It’s just… — he exhaled heavily, scratching the back of his head. — Well… the dress is fucking gorgeous, yeah…

Amber bit her lip. From irritation, or embarrassment, or that strange shiver that had been hitting her more and more often lately when she got compliments like that. Especially from men.

— Gorgeous, yeah… two grand worth — she snorted, glancing off to the side.

Zack pressed his lips together, stood in silence for a moment, and finally leaned against the railing next to her.

— Look, — he started quietly. — Since things are… well, like this… maybe you should use it?

— Use what? — Amber turned to him, the corners of her lips twisting into a crooked half-smile. — Are you fucking serious? My new Boob size as a ticket to some VIP party?

— No! Well… — he rubbed his forehead. — Maybe yeah. Look, Em. You… you yourself said that meeting Justin Brown could’ve been a breakthrough. In business. For your career. And now, as crazy as it sounds, you’re basically the perfect candidate to get on his radar.

— Wha… wha… what? — she frowned, putting on her best confused face, as if she had no clue what he was talking about, like that thought hadn’t already been swirling in her head from the very first day she felt the weight of these giant sandbags on her chest. And, gotta admit, she pulled it off perfectly. After all, the talent for bullshit came to Amber as part of Emmet’s legacy.

Zack stared at her for a moment, paused, then turned toward the sea, adjusting the belt on his pants. He didn’t say a word.

The silence dragged on, only the sound of waves crashing somewhere below the stone fence. Amber stayed quiet, like she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she’d betray herself and her thoughts… and if she didn’t, she’d look weak.

— Listen, — Zack suddenly spoke, still not turning around. — You do get that you don’t even have proper documents, right? And… I looked into fake ones, yeah, they can be done here, but you blew all your cash on clothes and you’re acting more and more… — he turned his gaze back to Amber. — …I don’t think there’s another option left. You need to seduce Justin.

Part 6

Amber jerked sharply, like someone had whipped her across the back. She stared at Zack, and in her eyes flickered everything at once — confusion, horror, rage. Her fingers clenched into fists on their own, thin, manicured fingers that looked ridiculous in this moment of anger.

— Are you out of your fucking mind? — her voice trembled, but not from fear — from that same shiver that ran through her body every damn time she had to seriously face what she’d become. — You’re telling me to… sleep with some rich bastard just so… so…

— I didn’t say “sleep with,” — Zack interrupted, raising his hands. — I said — use it. Charm him. Stay close. Plus, you’ve got real problems with your documents and everything else. And come on, you’ve always said career comes first and all methods are fair.

— I’m a man, Zack! Have you completely lost your mind!?

Amber nearly screamed. Too loud, too emotional, too… feminine. She instantly realized it from the weird glance of a passing couple — the woman snorted, the man’s eyes locked on her cleavage, slowing his step for a second. It felt like a slap across the face.

Zack, for some reason, couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing — quiet, restrained, but his shoulders were shaking from barely suppressed laughter.

— Sorry… — he choked out, wiping the corners of his eyes. — It’s just… that sounded so… — he froze, meeting her eyes, — …so fucking girly. Did you hear yourself?

— Say one more word and I’ll throw you off this fucking promenade — Amber hissed.

— Alright, alright, I’m done — he raised his hands, though his face still carried that damn smug expression. — Just… think about it.

Amber didn’t say anything. She only stared at the sunset, that blazing strip of fire drowning in the sea. The wind messed up her hair again. Her fingers slid up to her neck on their own, adjusting the thin strap of her dress. She could feel how soft her skin was — sensitive, like some Greek goddess. Yeah, of course she’d been thinking about it, but now it had been spoken out loud, and it ripped apart whatever was left of her pride.

— I’ll just… think about it — she whispered, once again pissed off at her own voice and tone, though deep down she knew it wasn’t the voice that pissed her off — it was the fact she had already made up her mind.