Men of London 05 - Cross to Bare

BOOK: Men of London 05 - Cross to Bare
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TWO OF A KIND

It’s amazing what a little mascara and lipstick, a blonde wig, false boobs, and top-notch female fashion can hide. Not that Lenny James is hiding his masculinity. He uses his normal voice when he’s Laverne, and he’s not particularly camp as a man. His reasons for creating his alter ego are locked deep in his past. He is who he is: tough in business, and a romantic at heart. What he’s hiding is vulnerability. He wants a man to accept both sides of him.

Gorgeous, commanding, and dark as sin, Brook Hunter meets Lenny and knows nothing about Laverne until fate pushes her into his path. Cross-dressing is as far from Brook’s reality as fashion is from his world of diplomacy and high finance. Understanding and truth take time, and trust doesn’t come easy. But Brook is about to show Lenny that there are no sides to true love, just the place where they meet in the middle.

CROSS TO BARE

A Men of London Romance

Susan Mac Nicol

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

CROSS TO BARE
Copyright © 2015 Susan Elaine Mac Nicol

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

ISBN 978-1-942886-99-0

Ebook formatting by Maureen Cutajar
www.gopublished.com

This story is dedicated to everyone out there who’s a Lenny. All those men who find themselves picking up a beautiful piece of women’s clothing and thinking, ‘Hmm, wonder how it would look on me.’ You are special. You are different. You have the courage and panache to shine and aren’t afraid to show it. Beauty dwells inside, and true beauty has no gender. I applaud you all, because without you all the world would be a less interesting place.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Once again, I have to thank the wonderful Johnny O’Connell for this story. He tirelessly answered my questions about what it felt like to be a man who dresses like a woman, and he gave me valuable insight into the whys and wherefores. My editor told me I had a unique insight and empathy into the men in this story. That’s only possible because of Johnny. He took time to beta read this story as well, to make sure I’d get it right.

You all know him as the gorgeous body in a corset on the cover of
Suit Yourself
. I know him as a friend, a man who’s not afraid to be who he wants, and from what I saw when we went dancing he’s quite a slick mover on the dance floor. Thanks, Johnny. I owe you. Again.

Of course there are always the usual culprits to thank— my editor, my beta readers, my Street Team, the people who support me. My readers, bloggers, fellow authors who give me advice, and, of course, my longsuffering family.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This an M/M book about two men falling in love. I want that to be clear. Lenny loves his masculinity, is a gay man, and to me he sees himself as who he is even when he’s Laverne. He’s not transgender; he’s not sexually confused, he doesn’t want to be a woman, ever—he likes his sex life as a gay man. He dresses for a different reason: to show a softer side, the one his father tried to beat out of him. It’s a way of asserting that he can be who he wants and wear gorgeous clothing at the same time. And to see how it feels when he’s designing it. This has become just another facet of who he is.

I took a poll on Facebook asking people what pronouns and POV choices were correct to use when talking about Lenny/Laverne, depending on who he was in the scene. This can be a contentious area, so if it’s something you as a reader are nitpicky about…please read on.

The overwhelming consensus—from straight, transgender, lesbian and gay people alike—was that this is my story and I need to be comfortable. That there is no right or wrong way, just the way I choose to portray things. Also, in a follow-up, the responses I got were very positive when I proposed this scenario:

In
Cross to Bare
, when the scene is from Lenny’s POV, whether as himself or dressed as Laverne, the name ‘Lenny’ and male pronouns are used. When the scene is in a third-party POV (e.g., Brook or Leslie), and Laverne is present, she is referred to as female and the name ‘Laverne’ is used.

If you don’t like this approach and believe it will spoil your reading of the book, then please, just don’t read the story. I don’t want you spitting up your coffee….

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

About the Author

Other Books by Susan Mac Nicol

CROSS TO BARE

Chapter 1

Fashion faux pas were something designer Laverne Debussy-Smith could handle. Clothing that was an assault on the eyes was regularly relegated to the rubbish bin. Laverne had been known to strip the garments off some unwitting soul at her company and replace it with something a little more appropriate. She also had a knack for consoling pouting, excitable, needy models of both genders.

But a wild-eyed, naked man standing in the reception of the company premises fell well outside of her comfort zone.

Lenny James, gay, transvestite, and aka leading London designer Laverne Debussy-Smith, stared at the sweating, unkempt man currently presenting his bare backside to the receptionist, whose eyes were as wide as a cheap polyester tie.

“Mr Morgan says he needs a new suit, and he needs you to make him one,” the receptionist, Lauren, stammered as she averted her eyes from the spectacle in front of her. “He took off all his clothes and threw them at me then asked to see you.” She gestured to the sad pile of garments on the floor behind her.

Lenny nodded as he stepped forward and eyed the nude man out with a practiced eye. “I see. Am I to assume this is my ten o’clock appointment then—Mr Nathaniel Morgan?”

Mr Morgan swallowed and nodded. “Yes, that would be me.” His modulated tone was at odds with his salt–and-peppered hairy chest, his slight paunch, and from what Lenny could see, a rather well-endowed set of genitals huddled in a messy bush of grey hair. “I couldn’t wear that dreadful suit any longer, and I insist you fit me for a new one.”

The man clearly had a screw loose but a fine sense of fashion, Lenny thought as he circled the naked Mr Morgan. “I’m flattered you feel the need to be so enthusiastic, but perhaps you could come into the fitting room so I can see what I can do for you? May I offer you a towel or something to wrap around your—”

“No. I’m not wearing anything other than one of your suits.” The man’s voice was firm, and Lenny sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood to force a grown man to get dressed here in an open-plan office.

“Very well.” He cast an eye around at his open-mouthed, astonished staff and beckoned to one of them. “Lance, could you make sure fitting room one is clear please, so I can ask Mr Morgan to step in?” He knew there’d been some other customer due for a fitting in there and didn’t want to shock them with an unsolicited porn moment. It was also the nearest fitting room, and Lenny really didn’t want to escort Nathaniel Morgan down the corridor to the other one at the end of the building. “If it’s occupied, move them into number two.”

Lance nodded, a faint grin on his face, and hurried away to do his boss’s bidding. Lenny smoothed down his navy blue wool business dress with its geometric collar and tried to look as if having a naked man in his reception area was indeed an everyday occurrence.

“Have you come far today for this appointment, Mr Morgan?” Lenny enquired. Perhaps if he could find out from where the man had come, he could be returned there.

“Only from home. I slipped out when Mallory wasn’t looking.”

“And Mallory would be?” Lenny raised an eyebrow at his would-be customer.

Mr Morgan sniffed. “My partner and carer. He never lets me go anywhere unless he comes along. But I wanted a new suit and he didn’t listen to me. I knew he wouldn’t let me come here alone so I started a fire in the microwave and then slipped away.” He smiled proudly. “I’m not totally useless, you know. I can do some things for myself. I walked here on my own.”

Lenny’s heart broke at that brave statement. The man obviously had dementia or something similar and this was his way of making sure he asserted himself.

“That is brave, my lovely,” Lenny murmured gently. “But I’m sure Mallory will be worried about you. I think we need to get in touch with him and let him know you’re safe.”

Mr Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t remember the number,” he muttered slyly.

Lauren motioned at Lenny from behind the desk. She gestured for him to come over. Lenny sidled over, smiling at Mr Morgan as he did so. No point in spooking the man.

“I saw some cards with his name on them in his jacket pocket,” Lauren whispered. “When he flung his suit at me, they fell out. I thought they were business cards, but on second thought, they looked more like identification cards, the sort you give people when they forget who they are. I’ll have a look at them too see if we have a number for this Mallory guy. Or a home number.”

Lenny nodded as Lance came back into the room. “You do that. Otherwise, chicken, Google is a marvellous place. Check those cards, and see if we can find out more about Mr Morgan. I’ll keep him occupied in the meantime.”

“Fitting room one is now free, Laverne,” Lance said with a wicked smile. The boy was enjoying this far too much, Lenny though in irritation. Thank God his employee Leslie Scott was on holiday or who knew how this would play out. Lenny knew Leslie would be heartbroken he’d missed all the fun.

“Well, let’s you get into that fitting room and have you measured up for that suit, Mr Morgan. Would you like to follow me?”

Lenny gestured to the nude man to follow, and like a shepherd with an errant sheep, Lenny led the way into the fitting room, hearing the squeals of laughter and pent-up amusement giving way behind him. He grinned. He could safely say that at this office there was never a dull moment.

An hour later, having taken measurements and listened to Nathaniel Morgan’s random comments about grooming cats, how to avoid bad theatre makeup, the vagaries of the National Health Service, and numerous curses about how mobile phones were the devil’s work, there was a knock on the door. Lauren came in with a burly, worried middle-aged man who sagged in relief at seeing Nathaniel Morgan currently clad in grey suit fabric wrapped around his hips.

“Nate. For God’s sake, what on earth were you thinking? I was so worried about you. And it took me ages to sort out that microwave emergency you created.”

“Laverne, this is Mallory Crane. He’s Mr Morgan’s life partner and carer.” Lauren smiled softly and left the room.

Lenny stood, grimacing as his knees creaked and his back protested from kneeling down taking inner seam measurements. If Mallory was taken aback at the sight of a man in a dress and a blonde wig, he didn’t show it.

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