The first thing she noticed was his ‘Bernie 2016’ shirt. The terminal of Charlotte-Douglas airport was usually a parade of blazers, ties, pant-suits, and pencil-thin skirts. Shiny shoes clicking against the polished floor was a common background noise, but his worn-out sandals didn’t make a sound. A pair of brown cargo shorts exposed his hairy legs from the knees down. He was a strange sight, and it was enough to distract her from the colorful graphs and blocks of numbers splayed across her laptop screen.
She was sitting at a table on the very edge of the terminal McDonald’s. Steam billowed from the opening atop her coffee cup, giving her small space a sweet aroma to work with. He was tall, easily six-foot-three, and that made him just her type. At six-one herself, Kaylee was used to being taller than most of the guys in her life. She liked guys she could feel more petite standing next to.
He turned a few feet away and made his way to the counter. That’s when Kaylee realized she was staring. Her eyes darted back to her screen, letting it act as a wall between them. The client would be landing any minute and she’d need to have her key figures committed to memory. The current tab showed predictions of future changes to productivity ratios, which was the client’s focus.
Movement to her left caught her eye. He was sitting down at the table next to her. The guy was just so tall; how could she not notice? He had a stocky build and tan skin. A thick goatee surrounded his mouth, with 2-day old stubble across the rest of his face. His black hair was pulled back in a man-bun. He had such an earthy vibe to him and she loved it.
Then his eyes moved towards her.
She was staring, and now he’d noticed. Kaylee needed a reason. With a big smile, she half-lifted her fist. “Feel the Bern,” she said with a laugh.
He chuckled. With only a laugh she could discern he had a pretty low voice. His teeth were as white as the empty cells of the spreadsheet she was ignoring. “He so would have won,” he said.
“Can’t argue there,” Kaylee replied.
“Where you headed?” he asked.
“Oh, nowhere,” she replied. “I live in Charlotte. I’m just waiting for my client to land.”
“Well doesn’t that sound all big and important,” he replied with playful sarcasm. “You look dressed to change the world anyway.” Kaylee had on a white blouse tucked into a slate-gray skirt that went down to her knees. A pair of tan stockings followed the rest of the way down to her black pumps. She was dressed much like the rest of the business drones rolling their laptop bags up and down the reflective floor.
“And you look dressed for a frat party,” she replied. Was that rude or playful? I hope he thought it was funny. Please find it funny.
He laughed, and she stopped herself from audibly sighing. “I ain’t exactly Fortune 500, am I?”
“You seem more the free spirit. What brings you here?”
“Disk golf tournament.”
Kaylee raised her eyebrows and blinked a few times. “What is that?”
His jaw and eyes opened wide. “Only the fastest growing sport in America!”
She laughed. “That doesn’t tell me much.”
“Okay, so you’re out on a field with a disk, and it’s kind of like a Frisbee,” he starts. His sudden excitement at getting to explain his hobby was hilarious. The boy hadn’t even touched his food yet, but his body turned towards her and his hands gestured vigorously as he talked. “You use the disk just like you would a golf ball in a golf game. At the other end of the field is this big fountain-looking thing with chains on it. You gotta throw the disk so it gets caught in the chains.”
“…fascinating.”
“I promise, it’s fun.”
Kaylee panicked a little. He was turning back to his food. She didn’t want the conversation to be over yet. “So, what’s your name?”
She’d caught him mid-bite on his burger. He held a finger up while trying to chew a little faster. “Brandon,” he said after swallowing.
“I’m Kaylee,” she replied while extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
He took her hand delicately, and it gave her a shiver up her arm. His hands were rough, perhaps disk golf built up calluses on your fingers. “That’s a pretty name.”
Kaylee thought she was going to melt. His voice was so smooth as he complimented her name. His smile had changed, less jolly and coyer, like he liked what he was seeing. “Um…thank you,” she replied. Fuck! That probably sounded condescending! I’m blowing this!
“So, what do you do, Kaylee, what with your laptop and fancy clothes?”
“I’m an IT Solutions Integration Consultant.”
He was silent for a moment. “Okay, at least with disk golf you can get an idea of what it is from putting the two words together. What the hell is a…a…” He laughed and popped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Shit, I can’t even remember it now.”
“IT Solutions Integration Consultant.”
“Yea, that. What is an IT…Solutions…whatever?”
“Well, basically I show companies how much better they’d run with state-of-the-art computers, help them set them up, and then follow up months later to prove I was right.”
“And have you ever been wrong?”
“Hu?”
“You know; like have you ever told some company these new computers would make everything better and it turned out they didn’t?”
Kaylee folded her arms smugly. “Not yet.”
Brandon raised his paper McDonald’s cup as though making a toast. “Well then, here’s to being good at what you do.”
Kaylee toasted him with her coffee. The steam no longer rose from the opening. It was getting cold because she was ignoring it, much like her spreadsheet and her soon approaching client. “Are you going to be here for a few minutes?” she asked.
“I don’t eat too fast, so yea. Why?”
“I need to go to the bathroom. Would you watch my stuff while I’m gone?”
Brandon popped a couple of fries into his mouth. “You bet,” he replied without swallowing first.
“Thanks.” Kaylee stood. She watched his eyes as she moved, hoping to see them following her. Brandon stuck his straw into his mouth, but still let his eyes follow her as she made her way back across the terminal hallway. The bathroom was right across from the restaurant. Kaylee ducked around the white tile wall. A row of mirrors and sinks stretched out to her right with a series of stall doors to her left.
A click echoed off the walls as the far stall door opened. An older woman with silver hair and thick glasses emerged and Kaylee held her breath. This wasn’t an uncommon scenario for her, and luckily it was rare for things to end badly, especially these days. To her relief, the woman just smiled and made her way to the nearest sink, allowing Kaylee to slip into the now vacant stall.
She closed the door, pulled down her panties, and after checking to make sure the seat was clean, sat down. She might have been neglecting her coffee when Brandon showed up, but he hadn’t been there for the first two cups she sucked down on the way to the airport. Her eyes rolled back and a smile crossed her face as she did her business, but it was more than just the bladder relief making her so happy. Her hands gripped her knees as a shiver of excitement ran up her back.
“I don’t think he knows I’m transgender,” she whispered softly.
As Kaylee cleaned up, a chorus of chatter echoed in the bathroom. At least four women had entered, and she could tell they were gathered around the sinks. The girls discussed routine positions and music selections. Must be a cheerleader troupe traveling to a meet. She lingered for a while as they talked. Kaylee never liked emerging into a crowded bathroom. It meant too many eyes on her, too many people who might figure out she wasn’t cis.
She felt nervous. Brandon was still watching her stuff. What if he was getting aggravated? What if he needed to get going? What if he didn’t want to talk anymore when she got back? Hey, Kaylee, you also have a client arriving any second who might not want you hiding in the bathroom either. Their topics change but their feet don’t move. Kaylee sighed as she realized they’d be in there a while. She’d have to move through them on her way out. She stood, pulled her panties up, and opened the door.
The cluster of teenagers looked at her, but she didn’t look back, only keeping their forms in her peripheral vision as she moved. She was a full foot taller than most of them. Kaylee forwent washing her hands, not wanting to give them the chance to study the six-one trans woman who just came out of the stall. Kaylee slipped back around the dividing wall and into the busy terminal. She breathed a sigh of relief; glad it was over.
To her added joy, Brandon was still there. His burger sat half-eaten in the paper box with his fries dumped in the lid. He was leaned back in his chair, legs wide apart with his left foot tapping against the floor. He saw her emerge and smiled, seeming genuinely happy to see her again. Kaylee pulled her seat out and sat back down. The screen on her laptop had timed out and gone blank, but the small lights on the side still flickered.
“While you were gone some businessy guy came looking for you,” he said.
Kaylee’s eyes went wide and she gasped. “Where did he go?!” She was sure the clients plane hadn’t landed yet.
“He stormed off that way,” Brandon answered while pointing. “Kept shouting something about you being late.”
“Oh no!” Kaylee panicked. “I have to…!”
Brandon laughed full and deep. His left hand slapped his knee. “Just kidding! Wow, you are really tense.”
Kaylee exhaled and slumped back in her chair. “You’re an ass!” she said playfully.
“I got to play a joke on you,” he said with a grin. “Consider it my reward for watching your stuff.”
“Well, I hope you got what you wanted out of it.”
“I did,” he replied. “You’re kinda cute when you look surprised.”
She knew she was blushing. Oh, how she didn’t want to be blushing. Her cheeks felt hot and instinct told her to turn away, but the action only made it more noticeable. Though his mouth was half-full of French fries, Brandon pointed and laughed. “Ah! But you’re even cuter when you’re embarrassed!”
“Stop it,” she said playfully. She absolutely didn’t want him to actually stop. He was flirting with her; a cis, supposedly straight guy was flirting with her. It was a new experience for sure. She’d been hit on in the past, but only by gay guys in queer bars thinking she was a drag queen or assholes with a trans fetish. More than once she’d been asked by some douchebag to show him her “lady dick”, and it repulsed her. This felt genuine. This felt like a dream, and she didn’t want it to end.
“You…you think I’m cute?” she asked. Jesus Christ, I sound like a fucking teenager! I should go back in the bathroom and talk about cheerleading with those kids at the sink.
“Am I being too forward?” he asked. “All joking aside, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Oh no…I’m just…honestly not used to being flirted with.” Did I really just say that? “I mean, if that’s what you were doing.”
He gave a coy smile. “I guess I was, though I can’t believe you don’t get it often. Is it because you’re like, really tall?”
She’d tried to take sip of coffee then; it was only lukewarm by now. The mention of her height almost made her choke on it. She set the cup back down in time to see his brow raise.
“Shit, that was probably rude.”
“No, it’s fine.” In truth, it was fine. It was an excuse she could roll with without exposing her transition. “I’ve always been the tall girl in every group. But hey, it means I can reach everything in my kitchen!”
He laughed, and it made her laugh. Lost in the moment, she almost didn’t notice her phone buzzing in her purse. She pulled it out and tapped the fingerprint print reader. When the screen lit up, she saw a text that read, ‘Getting off plane now.’ Her client had landed. It was time to get back to work.
“By the look in your eyes that duty calling,” Brandon said.
“Yea,” she said with a defeated sigh. “I really enjoyed talking to you.”
“Well, I’d love to keep in touch,” he said. Her heart soared. He had a genuine interest in her. Her trembling fingers fished around in her purse for the packet of business cards. She slid one out and gave it to him.
“Here’s my info,” she said.
“Jesus, so professional.” Brandon studied the card with exaggerated fascination, as if it were an alien artifact. “I don’t have anything this fancy, but I can scribble my number on a napkin.”
She laughed again. “Just text me at that number. That will be fine.”
He grinned. The fluorescent lighting in the ceiling reflected off his green eyes, and it made her shiver all over again. “I’ll definitely do that.” He stood and collected his trash together on the tray. “Very nice to meet you, Kaylee.” He took her hand again and shook it gently.
“You as well, Brandon. Good luck in your disk golf tournament. I’m sure you’ll get lots of…points? Do you get points in this game or…?
He laughed a little. “I’ll text you the Wikipedia link on it. That will be your homework.” At that, they parted ways. Kaylee tucked her laptop under her arm and headed back into the terminal. She saw dozens of people emerging from gate 14, where her client’s plane had landed. Kaylee felt like she was walking on a cloud. A surge of newfound confidence powered her every step. As a balding, portly man in a black suit and green tie emerged from the gate, she met him by the information desk with her hand confidently outstretched.
“Mr. Barren?” she asked.
“That’s me,” the man replied.
“My name is Kaylee Burgess,” she said in an authoritative yet welcoming tone. “I’m here to welcome Barren Industries to the Digital Corporate Solutions family.”