Male Fraud

By Fran Shaff

Terry Fiscus wants to be a trainer for the pro football Chicago Cyclones. Coach Dan Barringer doesn't believe a woman belongs in a men's locker room. Terry really, really wants this job so she disguises herself as a man, and Dan hires her. When Dan meets Terry outside of work and gets to know her as the lovely "Teresa" he falls in love, and so does Terry. As Terry tries to manage her double life things get extremely complicated and side-splittingly funny.

Excerpt:

Setup: Female Terry Fiscus, the new trainer for the pro football Chicago Cyclones is disguised as a man--and she's made a few discoveries about being a woman pretending to be a man during her first week on the job.

As she policed her area of the locker room Terry realized the first week of training camp had gone by with lightning speed. She’d worked hard to keep her players as healthy as possible, and things had gone well most of the time.

The only thing giving her more trouble than she’d thought it would was getting used to the smells, sights and sounds in the locker room. Especially the sights!

Seeing naked men by the dozens was a completely new adjustment for her. At Nebraska, where she’d first worked as a trainer, the players knew she was a woman, and most of them would cover up if she was in the locker room. Now that Terry was one of the guys, she rarely saw a towel wrapped around a waist in modesty.

More than once the old story about the size of a man’s feet and his--

“Fiscus!”

She looked at the coach who was standing in the doorway to his office.

“When you have a minute, I want to see you.”

“Sure thing, Coach.” She was getting used to using her fake deep voice, though it didn’t sound as gruff anymore since her cold had gone away.

The coach went back into his office, but Terry kept looking his way.

There was one other thing which had been giving her trouble since she started her new job. Coach Barringer.

Not that he’d been hard on her or anything, no harder than she’d expected anyway. The trouble she was having with the coach was entirely her own fault.

She found him terribly attractive. Whether he was a Neanderthal or not, she couldn’t help being practically giddy over him. Consequently, she’d avoided Dan as much as possible.

She’d learned rather quickly that one glance from him could melt her quite completely, and she couldn’t afford to liquefy around him.

At least not until she told him she was a woman.

She finished cleaning up her area and went to face Coach Barringer.

She knocked on his open door.

“Come in.” His voice was stern, commanding.

He was looking at a pad full of x’s and o’s when Terry entered his domain. Considering the crush she had on him, she blushed a little at the symbols for hugs and kisses which Dan was using to diagram offensive and defensive team members in plays he was designing.

This was the first time Terry had been alone with Dan in his office. All her meetings with him before this one had included other trainers, and they’d taken place in the conference room.

Dan looked up and pointed to a chair. “Take a load off, Fiscus. I’ll be with you in a minute.” He looked again at his pad of intricate plays, and made a few changes.

She seated herself in the black tweed armchair the coach had pointed to and waited for him to speak. The longer she waited the more intrigued she became with the handsome coach and his thick dark hair, angular jaw and broad, strong build.

His shoulders looked like they could hold the weight of the Sears Tower.

When minutes passed without him initiating the conversation, she decided to start it herself. “Is there a problem you wanted to discuss with me?” Considering the way she felt about him, being alone with him put her ill at ease. She wanted this meeting over with as soon as possible.

He looked at her with those bone-melting blue eyes of his and leaned bac

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fran Shaff
• Release date: Mar 23, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458078667

Fran Shaff

Just about all of us want to get away from the demands of everyday life from time to time. Unfortunately, most of us don’t have the luxury of being able to take off to some new, exciting place whenever we feel the urge--unless we like to read.A book can take us anywhere we’d like to go. For readers who enjoy living vicariously in pastimes or in modern times Fran Shaff provides a great escape in the more than twenty novels she’s published over the years. Fran’s fictional books have won awards from readers, reviewers and fellow authors, and her non-fiction has been acknowledged in this way too.Love is the main focus of all of Fran’s books, whether they’re contemporary or historical, serious or humorous, written for adults or teens. Love between men and women and among friends and families is featured in her books because there is nothing most of us want more than to love and be loved. Happy endings abound, but the journey to reaching that joyful final moment is always a rocky struggle, just the way we want our fiction (even though we could do without the drama in our real lives).Look for new, full-length historical romance novels from Fran Shaff in the ten-book “Tender Mysteries Series,” available now and debuting throughout 2013 and 2014. The first novel in the series “Resurrected” is available as a free download at most Internet bookstores. The series is available in single e-book and two-pack paperback formats.Reviewers say:“Ms. Shaff is a gifted writer that always delivers in her stories.” (The Romance Studio)“I have discovered a great new author in Fran Shaff. She writes with depth and understanding and digs deep into the emotional lives of her characters bringing the reader with her all the way.” (A Romance Review)“Fran Shaff is a wonderful writer whose prose speak with passion from her heart.” (Fallen Angel Reviews)“Ms. Shaff writes about characters that warm your heart and give you a good chuckle as well.” (Coffee Time Romance)

Book preview

MALE FRAUD

By Fran Shaff

Classic Contemporary Romantic Comedy

For Everyone who Loves Humor in a Love Story

Male Fraud by Fran Shaff

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition

Coypright 2011 by Fran Shaff

Characters, names and incidents used in this story are products of the imagination of the author and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.

Discover Fran Shaff books and short stories available in e-format, paperback and hardcover by visiting her website at: http://sites.google.com/site/fshaff

E-mail Fran Shaff at: [e-mail]

This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

For JC, Jim and Zachary

CHAPTER ONE

You look worse than you sounded on the phone, Jean Fitzsimmons said as she stood in Terry Fiscus’ doorway.

Thanks a lot. Terry wiped her nose with a tissue as she let her best friend into her apartment.

I brought chicken soup. She lifted a peach-colored plastic container. Why don’t you get in bed while I heat this up?

Terry shoved a handful of blonde mane away from her face. Chicken soup? Was that the best you could do? What kind of a doctor are you?

Jean placed a hand on her full hip. A plastic surgeon, as if you didn’t know. Now if you need your boobs lifted or your butt redone, I can offer you a good deal more than soup. She scrutinized Terry’s physique which was covered by gray sweats. From what I can see, your boobs and your butt are about the only healthy parts of your body today.

Thanks a lot.

I’ve never seen a cold take over a person the way this one has gotten to you. Your voice sounds like a cross between Slim Pickins and Gregory Peck with a touch of Ben Aflack.

Terry wiped her nose again. Good thing I at least look like a woman. She coughed and cursed.

Come on, Teresa, you need to be in bed.

Terry never let anyone tell her what to do, least of all Jean. Her best friend was prone to mothering just because she happened to be ten years older than Terry. But Jean sometimes forgot she was also six inches shorter than Terry’s five feet, ten inches and possessed a much smaller frame. No way could she force Terry back to bed.

Jean yanked on Terry’s arm.

Terry pulled back with all her strength, but she couldn’t stop the momentum her friend had begun. Blasted cold had stolen her strength just as Samson’s haircut at the hands of fragile Delilah had stolen his.

A moment later Terry was in her light blue bedroom, slinking between her cream colored soft cotton sheets.

You rest while I warm up the soup, Jean said soothingly.

Put a shot of brandy in it, Terry ordered as Jean left the room. If I have to feel miserable, I might as well enjoy it.

She heard Jean chuckling outside her room.

She probably thought I was kidding, Terry mumbled. She grabbed a tissue and placed it over her nose, hoping to catch a sneeze which was about to explode.

The phone rang.

Terry sneezed into her tissue, wiped her nose and tried to clear the frogs from her throat before she answered her call. Unfortunately, her efforts to de-frog-ify were unsuccessful. She lifted the receiver of the old off-white touch tone phone after the third ring. Hello?

I’m calling for Terry Fiscus.

A deep, sexy male voice on the other end of the line sent a thrill through her. What a time to get turned on!

I’m Terry Fiscus.

"Terry, this is Coach Dan Barringer of the Chicago Cyclones. I know this is awkward and unorthodox since we never made it to the interview stage with you, but I’m calling to offer you a job."

You’re kidding. She shut her eyes and wished she could have those two lame words back.

I’m quite serious. We’d interviewed three other candidates for the trainer position and offered the job to Milt Foxboro. He was supposed to start yesterday, but he backed out.

He backed out?

"Yes, he did. We’d considered Van Carlton, but he’d already taken a job with the Orlando Starfish."

I see.

He cleared his throat. I’ve studied your application package thoroughly, Terry. You’ve got excellent references. Your professors have praised your qualifications to high heaven. The college coach you worked for sent me a fax telling me not to hire you so he could entice you back.

Did Coach Laser really tell you not to hire me?

No, not really. But he did say he wished you were still with him. He cleared his throat. The only reason we didn’t give you an interview earlier was because you hadn’t had any experience working in professional football.

No, I haven’t had experience with the pros, but, as you know, I have worked on Nebraska’s football team.

Yes, Coach Laser told me how much he appreciated your work.

I’m glad to hear that. My massage techniques, special wrappings and other secret cures for sprains and injured muscles often got the players back on the field much quicker than most conventional treatments. She hoped her sales pitch was audible through her raspy, sick, guy-sounding voice. She wanted to be sure he knew she was highly qualified and capable of doing the job he was offering, especially since he made it sound like she was their last resort--not very flattering.

So the coach said.

He tried a dozen ways to get me to stay in Nebraska, but I like Chicago better.

"Chicago’s the best city in the country. But for this conversation, that’s immaterial. All I need to know, Terry, is if you are still interested in working for the Cyclones."

Her heart throbbed when he repeated the offer she thought she might have only dreamed she’d heard. Her breath disappeared somewhere inside her lungs. Before she could get control of her elation at being offered her fantasy job, trainer for the pro football Chicago Cyclones, Dan Barringer spoke again.

I know this is very last minute with training camp opening day after tomorrow. Frankly, I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. If you turn me down, I’ll have to hire Ann Schlenker.

I’ve heard she’s very good. That was hard to say, but she wanted to be a good sport.

"Yes, she’s thought of very highly by the Milwaukee Wolves where she’s been working for two years, but, just between us guys, a woman doesn’t really belong in a men’s locker room. Having a woman trainer would make my team members very uncomfortable."

It would?

Absolutely.

I see.

So what do you say, Fiscus?

Terry felt as though all the blood had drained from her face.

He apparently thought she was a man!

Fiscus? You there?

She cleared her throat as best she could and commanded herself to think fast. She didn’t want to lose this opportunity.

I’m here, she said in her virus-graveled voice.

"Would you like to work for the Cyclones?"

Yes.

"Great! We’ll meet tomorrow afternoon at Jerry’s, the tavern near the stadium. Know where it is?"

I’m sure I can find it.

See you there at two. Thanks, Terry. It’ll be great working with you.

I’m sure we’ll both find the experience quite intriguing, she said tentatively.

When she was sure Dan was off the line, she slammed the receiver onto its perch. Women don’t belong in a men’s locker room? Of all the caveman thinking! What difference does it make whether a person is male or female as long as she’s good at her job?

Beats me, Jean said as she entered the room carrying a tray of soup and crackers. She set the tray on Terry’s nightstand. But I can switch them, you know.

What? Switch who?

Men and women. Male to female or vice versa. You aren’t thinking about making a change, are you, Terry?

She lay back against a stack of pillows and folded her arms. I wish I could, just so I could teach Dan Barringer a thing or two.

Jean slid the chair near Terry’s oak vanity table next to her bed and sat on it. What are you talking about? Who’s Dan Barringer?

"He’s the head coach of the Chicago Cyclones."

"Oh, that Dan Barringer."

I just got off the phone with him. He offered me a job.

Jean’s hand splayed over her pretty pink blouse and her perfectly-shaped eyebrows went north. He offered you the trainer job? That’s great! I thought they’d hired someone else.

They had, but he backed out. Barringer offered the job to their second choice, and he refused too. I’m his last resort--almost his last resort.

Jean shrugged. What’s the difference? You got the job. That’s all that matters.

She shook her head. Not quite, she said, narrowing her focus. He thinks I’m a man.

Jean burst out laughing.

It isn’t funny! She reached for a tissue and barely caught the sneeze which rattled the windows a second later. She wiped her nose and tossed the tissue into the tiny blue trash can next to her bed.

Are you kidding? It’s hilarious. He’s obviously never seen you.

Obviously.

There is no way he could possibly mistake you for a man if he’d seen you.

Terry caught another sneeze. But I’m not myself today, as you pointed out. I believe you compared my voice to those of Gregory Peck and Ben Aflack?

And Slim Pickins.

And Slim Pickins. Terry wiped her nose and tossed the tissue into the trash. Couple my male-sounding timbre with my unisex name and add those items to the coach’s stereotypical idea of what a football trainer should be, and Barringer didn’t have to leap far to conclude I am a man.

Jean burst out laughing again. Lady, he is in for one very rude awakening when you show up for work smelling as sweet as hyacinth with breasts out to here, she said, cupping her hands in front of her, and legs down to there, she added stretching her short legs to emulate Terry’s long ones.

"Stop laughing. It isn’t