Geovanna's Unexpected Welcome

Geofrey had always assumed that things would change after the chemical accident at his company's research laboratory. He just hadn't expected everything to change.

After all, waking up weeks later in a hospital bed with a completely transformed body would have been enough to turn anyone's life upside down. The bearded engineer who had once towered over his colleagues was gone. In his place stood a striking blonde woman with delicate features, long golden hair, and curves that made his former appearance seem like a distant memory.

During his long recovery, Geofrey had spent countless hours preparing himself for the inevitable. He imagined the awkward silences, the curious stares, and the way old friends might suddenly struggle to speak to him. Some would probably treat him with pity. Others might keep their distance, unsure of how to behave around someone whose life had been altered so dramatically.

He was ready for the cold reality of corporate life.

What he wasn't ready for was the warmth of his welcome home.

When he finally received permission to leave the hospital and unlocked the door to his apartment, he expected dust, silence, and perhaps a few unanswered messages on his phone.

Instead, he found what looked like the dressing room of a Hollywood celebrity.

Flowers were everywhere.

Round hatboxes in shades of blush pink and ivory covered the sofa, the coffee table, and practically every available surface. Each overflowed with expensive arrangements of peonies, roses, and orchids, the sort of flowers that cost more than Geofrey used to spend on an entire week of lunches. Satin ribbons hung from the boxes, and the sweet fragrance was so intense that it almost overwhelmed the lingering antiseptic smell he still associated with the hospital.

He stood in the doorway, staring.

"What the hell is all this?"

His new voice emerged soft and melodious, with a lightness that made the words sound far less threatening than he intended. Geofrey cleared his throat and tried again, only to discover that even his most intimidating growl now sounded strangely charming.

That was going to take some getting used to.

Near the sofa lay a long white dress sent by one of the luxury brands affiliated with his company. The accompanying note described it as a small gesture of apology for the inconvenience caused by the accident. Apparently, corporate generosity had a very particular sense of humor.

Geofrey had reluctantly put it on earlier, mostly because his old clothes no longer fit and he hadn't yet worked out what to do with his wardrobe. The dress was elegant, comfortable, and infuriatingly expensive. Its long skirt brushed the floor whenever he moved, forcing him to pay attention to every step.

He made his way between the flower arrangements and lowered himself beside the sofa, still getting used to the unfamiliar balance of his new body. His knees bent at a different angle, his center of gravity felt wrong, and even sitting down required more thought than it should have.

Then he noticed the first card.

It was attached to a pink satin ribbon around a particularly enormous bouquet.

"Dear Geovanna (we think your new name suits you much better!),

We're absolutely devastated by what happened. Still, we have to admit that the engineering department has become considerably prettier. Get well soon!

— Your boys from IT."

Geofrey stared at the message.

"Geovanna? Your boys?"

His cheeks grew hot. He crumpled the card halfway before thinking better of it. The flowers weren't responsible for the stupidity of the people who had sent them.

He reached for another note, this one tucked into a vase on the coffee table.

"The company insurance covers the collateral damage, but who is going to compensate my heart after seeing your updated corporate profile photo? Take care of yourself, beautiful.

— Warmest regards from HR."

He dropped the card onto the carpet.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

The men who had once shared beers with him after work, argued over football matches, and complained about management were apparently having a wonderful time adjusting to his new appearance. Their messages weren't condolences. They weren't even particularly subtle attempts at encouragement.

They were flirting.

With him.

Geofrey picked up his phone and opened the company's internal directory. His new profile photograph had already been uploaded, complete with his updated name and position. Someone had even added a cheerful little welcome message beneath it.

The notifications were multiplying by the minute.

One colleague had sent a bouquet with a note about taking him out for dinner. Another had offered to help him shop for a new wardrobe. A third had written that he had always admired Geofrey's work, followed by three heart emojis that had absolutely no place in a professional conversation.

He scrolled through the messages with growing disbelief.

These were the same people who used to interrupt him in meetings, borrow his tools without returning them, and challenge him to football matches they rarely won. Now they were addressing him as sweetheart, darling, and beautiful.

Apparently, a new face had rewritten years of office history overnight.

And the flowers kept coming.

By the time Geofrey reached the kitchen, he had counted seven separate arrangements. There was barely enough room on the counter to make coffee. He wondered whether the building's delivery staff had started a betting pool about his transformation, and whether the security guard downstairs was charging admission to anyone who wanted to see the company's newest blonde sensation.

The thought was almost funny.

Almost.

Geofrey returned to the living room and surveyed the sea of pink and ivory surrounding him. The room smelled like a florist's shop, his dress kept tangling around his ankles, and his phone was buzzing with yet another message from someone who had apparently discovered his romantic side at precisely the wrong moment.

He folded his arms and stared at his reflection in the dark screen.

They thought the transformation had turned him into a fragile little doll. Someone who would blush at a compliment, accept cheap office gallantry, and forget every professional slight simply because a man had sent her roses.

They had badly underestimated him.

"Enjoy yourselves while you can, gentlemen," he muttered.

The words came out in that same soft voice, which only made his expression more determined.

On Monday morning, Geofrey would return to the office. He would wear the heels he had reluctantly purchased over the weekend, master the art of walking in them, and arrive with his usual engineering reports neatly organized under one arm.

He would smile sweetly at every admirer.

He would thank them for their flowers.

And then he would make absolutely certain that every single one of them regretted underestimating the engineer formerly known as Geofrey.

After all, if his colleagues wanted to treat him like the prettiest distraction in the department, he was perfectly willing to give them something else to think about.

He had spent years solving engineering problems.

Now he had a whole office full of new ones.