As Anne Randalls exited the ladies' room, she was greeted by a familiar face, the maitre'd of La Louvre.
"Ah, Pierre. So pleasant to see you again. Is my husband in?"
The bearded man dressed in black tie made a slight bow and gave a respectful grin.
"Oui, Madame Anne. Allow me to escort you, as Monsieur Jordan is on one of his...ah.."
The Navy captain simply smiled, and waved off any further explanation. Her husband's temper was infamous but it was one of the things she loved about him.
But none of this banter answered the question of where this man had come from. For that we need to look back a little while...
=====
Perry had continued to watch the three obvious rich people at the neighboring table. Their talk had drifted away from hateful speech, so he'd stopped recording them but remained vigilant.
He'd been distracted wondering what was taking Anita so long that he missed that the trio was now focused on him. Apparently, they'd caught on to his surveillance.
"Excuse yourself, sir."
The snarky words from the blonde socialite snapped Perry out of his thoughts. He blinked nervously.
"W..w..what?"
"I said, excuse yourself. It is quite rude to stare at strangers, don't you know."
"I..I wasn't..."
That brought out a laugh from the handsome man at the table. He grinned mockingly.
"Oh, my dear Charise. Are you sure he was staring at you, and not me?"
"Lester! Are you suggesting that this man is one of the gays?"
The response was merely a shrug and a cheeky grin. Despite himself, Perry couldn't help but find the bigoted snob attractive. However, that moment of weakeness was his downfall as the curse was triggered.
"Monsieur, I was not staring at you, but the ravishing mademoiselle next to you..."
Much to the gay man's surprise, his right hand pointed to the brunette socialite at the table. Annise's faint smile indicated some pleasure at his outburst of flattery.
Perry was terrified, not sure what compelled him to say that. And with a French accent of all things. He made to stand up, wanting ti get away and figure what just happened. However, the object of his compliment interrupted.
"See, my dear brother. He obviously has taste. "
"Ah, mademoiselle. Like a fine wine, you should be sipped."
Perry clapped his hands over his mouth and moved away as quickly as he could. Those words were not his but still came out his moutg. What was happening to him?
The trio all raised eyebrows curiously, but dir nothing to stop the retreating gay man.
=====
With the door swinging closed behind him, Perry entered the men's restroom. He headed over to the sink, where he set aside his horn-rimmed glasses and splashed some cool water on his face.
Why was he feeling so flustered, and aroused by that woman? He was into men, wasn't he? He splashed more water on his face, not sure why a wave of disgust just washed over him.
Unseen was the changes occurring to his brown slacks. A wave of darkness was sweeping up from the bottom, washing away the old color. Even the material was of higher quality, ironed to a crisp perfection. Underneath the pants, his legs grew thicker with wiry muscle. His clunky brown dress shoes followed suit, darkening and gaining an almost mirror polish.
As the changes reached his waist, the canvas belt he wore rippled and turned into black leather. A thick golden buckle settled into place, almost pushing the slight gut he'd had back inwards as his abs grew more muscular. Now his light blue button paled, as all color leached away from it, leaving behind a strached white cotton.
In the meantime, Perry had been staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to understand the new urges growing in the depths of his mind. He was surprised a little as his clean-shaven chin was overtaken by the growth of a Van Dyke combination of goatee. He reached up to run his fingers through it, but suddenly a luxuriously waxed moustache uncurled on his upper lip.
"Mon dieu..."
The hand stroking the facial hair grew larger, the fingers thickening with each stroke. A smile came to his formerly thin lips, perfectly white and straight teeth almost gleaming as a layer of Gallic arrogance washed over him.
"But of course, mon barbe drives all of the mademoiselles wild..."
As Perry began to lose control to his growing Frenchness, his brown blazer turned jet black. It tightened as muscle filled his arms and torso. His skinny blue tie curled upwards as it tied itself into a bow under a stiff and wide collar. As his neck bulged with mass, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, locking in his Parisian accent.
Now his memories of his...hus..some stranger faded, as a life of working in many famous restaurants filled that gap. Another layer of arrogance filled him, as his masculine pride swelled be and pushed aside the last traces of his attraction to men. Instead, he could recall his many trysts with the fine female patrons of his restaurants...
"Honhon, that is in your past now. She has shown you another way, no?"
His head shook in the affirmative, as his brown hair darkened and slicked itself back. Mademoiselle Barrow, no, his beloved Annise had tamed his wild French heart. As his hands adjusted his jacket and bow tie, the wedding band on his right ring finger flowed freely to reform into a elegant gold wristwatch. A gift from his bon cherie.
A final look in the mirror was all it took for Pierre Jourdan to seize complete control from the vanished Perry Johnstone. As that happened, a final bit of memory popped into place, and the maitre'd of La Louvre moved out the restroom. He had someone ti greet after all...
=====
"I bid you adieu, Madame Anne."
The Frenchman offered a bow to the British captain, before taking his leave.
"Au revoir, Pierre. Do be a dear and say hullo to Annise for me."
"But of course, honhonhon."