"You'd be a fool not to test the waters."

Becky Waters was a wise woman. She hired me twice at Grande Illusions, once as 19-year-old college sophomore. The other as a person in his 30s who was down on his luck.

She knew the man making the proposal.

Frank Cignetti was a respected business man in the community. His wife, Marie, was also well respected, too.

"From everything I'm told, he really doted on his wife," she said.

She reminded me of the long hours at the club, although she told me she hated to lose me.

"I was hoping to bump you up to a headlining position," she said. "I think you've got the potential to hit the big time in Vegas."

I told her I didn't really feel becoming a full-time female illusionist was a career goal.

"But maybe becoming a female is," she said. And she was serious.

"I've often thought you were a classy lady, maybe too classy for here. Maybe you're meant to become a woman, David. Maybe you're meant to become the next Mrs. Frank Cignetti."

That startled me. I'd never been attracted to men, much less marry one. But then again, I never thought of myself as a woman, at least in serious terms.

That was until a few days ago. I found myself dressing more as woman, even when I headed to the club, although I tried to be subtle about it.

I thought of that conversation as I walked through his house. He gave me a key to his house to just look around, to take things in and think things through.

The house was modern in style. It wasn't overdone. It wasn't a mansion, but you knew its occupants lived comfortably.

I explored the kitchen, the living room and the den. Downstairs was what Frank called his "man room." Next door to it was Marie's studio, with plants and art work. It had a ballet barre. I sat down in the window sill in the studio taking in the warmth of the sunlight coming into the room. It was nice.

My thoughts were interrupted when a yellow cat entered the room meowing. She rubbed against my legs. I picked her up and she began to purr. I giggled for a few seconds.

I walked out and saw the hot tub and thought about how good it must feel to be in it from time to time. I walked back into the living room and sat on the couch a few minutes. I picked up some of Marie's books that were under an in-table.

I noticed quite a few pictures of Marie and Frank, a testament to their love, I thought, to their lives.

I walked into the bedroom and saw the king-size bed. I took notice of two dressers and two walk-in closets. Marie's clothes were still hanging up in her closet. I assumed they were also still in her drawer.

I wasn't being critical. If I were in his place, I knew I'd have a hard time putting things away.

Then I noticed to large portraits hanging side-by-side. One was a nude painting of Marie lounging on the couch I sat on in the living room. She was sipping a cup of coffee and holding the yellow cat in her lap.

The other was real photograph. Marie and Frank were building a snow man outside of a ski lodge. She was nude except a scarf, gloves and snow boots. Frank wore full winter gear. Words were written on the portrait: "Christmas, Aspen, 2003."

There must be a story behind it, I thought.

Just then my cell phone rang. It was Frank. He was about to finish a round of golf at the country club and wanted to know if I would meet him there for lunch.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Meet you at a table outside? Sounds great. Oh yeah, I'm here. It's given me a lot to think about."

I sat on the bed for minute and decided to surprise him. I walked into Marie's closet and started searching until I found it.

What more appropriate to wear to the country club than Marie's tennis outfit? I put it on and was amazed how well it fit.

I went over to her dresser and pulled out a brush and started doing my hair. I noticed a small box on the dresser that contained makeup.

I put base on, with a little blush. I added lipstick, eye shadow and eye liner, but didn't want to over do it.

I hopped in the car, but hoped I wasn't making a big mistake.

"He's expecting you ma'am," the valet said when I pulled up at the club.

Didn't I tell you I was passable?

He was talking to another gentleman when I greeted him out back.

"Carl, this is Debra Murray," Frank said, intruducing us.

Debra, I thought, I was wondering how he was going to get around the name since we haven't discussed what it would be.

I mean my stage name, Cassie O'Connor, might not seem appropriate.

"You can just call me Deb," I told Carl.

"So you're the new woman in Frank's life?" he asked. "I'm so glad he's finally seeing one again."

He didn't know how much of a new woman I actually was.

"Carl, if you'll excuse us," Frank said.

Carl left, leaving us alone while we both ordered club sandwiches.

"So what did you think of the house?" he asked.

"It's very nice," I said. "It sort of opened things up about your life. But there is so much more I've got to learn."

"I understand," he said. "So if you want to take your time thinking about my proposal, it's fine with me."

"Oh that's not what I meant," I said. "I want to learn more about you. And about your life with Marie."

"So what do you mean, then?" he asked.

"I've decided to take you up on the offer," I said. "But on one condition."

"What's that?" he asked.

"If we're ever in Aspen during Christmas, I'd prefer to wear a little more clothes if we're building a snow man," I said.

He laughed.

"No problem," he said with a chuckle. "But I would like to get a photo of you naked on a mink coat on the hood of my Rolls Royce."

"You'll have to get me drunk first," I said with a laugh.