The Sweetest Getaway by Sasha Preston

“All we have to do is confidently walk to the door like we’re supposed to be here,” Nari said under her breath.

She and Jennifer argued in the parking lot of Omaha’s largest mansion as glamorously dressed revelers approached the entrance, arm in arm.

“I’ll enter five minutes before you. When they ask for our names, remember that I’m Doris and you’re Béatrice. After that, everything will be easy. No big deal,” Nari explained.

Right. It was no big deal to Nari because she was endlessly charming, constantly meeting new people, and making loads of cash from random schemes that took her all over the world. Jennifer, on the other hand, was great at petting her neighbors’ dogs and getting lost mid-conversation in daydreams about faraway lands she’d never visited.

Doris Huang and Béatrice Boivin were wealthy business-women who were actually invited to the gala. Jennifer had helped Nari find an Asian and black woman on the guest list that they could impersonate. Doris and Béatrice looked enough like them, although Doris was in her fifties. Luckily, Doris wore glasses, so Nari could hide her youth behind a pair of round black frames that complemented her off-the-shoulder, gold metallic gown.

“Honestly, Nari, I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.” Jennifer tapped her fingers nervously on her arm. “What if Doris and Béatrice are inside already? Why don’t we look for a back entrance to sneak into instead?”

At least there would be fewer witnesses if they got caught at the back entrance. Maybe they could even pretend they were lost, ask for directions, and then decide to scrap the whole mission and return to their cozy apartment. “Oh well, that didn’t work. At least we tried!” Jennifer would say peppily. Nari would shrug. They’d end the night bingeing on popcorn and singing nineties hits into their TV’s karaoke app.

But Nari would never give up that easily. “Nah, we’re early. We’ll have at least an hour before these two fabulous women show up. They’re always late for events like this. Besides, our target is already inside.”

Jennifer groaned. “This is nuts. I’ve got to pretend to be French like Béatrice.” She shook her head. “I can’t even tell the difference between a good macaron and a bad one. They’re all delicious to me. I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

“I know why you said yes, mon amie,” Nari said, grinning. “Remember, you’ll be getting twenty-five percent of whatever deal we pull off after today. If I can close this deal, it could be worth half a million dollars.”

Jennifer had almost forgotten about the payout. Normally, Nari compensated her for these wild rides with chili cheese fries. She sucked in air through her teeth. “I… I can’t really say no to that,” she said, goosebumps covering her arms.

With that kind of money, maybe she could travel far beyond Omaha’s borders. She’d meet wonderful, surprising people. People who spoke five languages, painted in their spare time, and effortlessly rode their electric scooters through crowded street markets before arriving at home to make love to their beautiful spouses. Maybe she could even quit her job as a marketing analyst.

Nari swept her arm out in front of her, as if she were showing off her kingdom. “Welcome to the business world. There’s tons of cash just waiting for you.”

Money came easily to Nari, even though she had the attention span of a gnat. She could have her own massive condo if she wanted to, but she chose to live with Jennifer to feel a sense of home so far away from her family. Jennifer, however, was thirty-six years old and broke. If she didn’t live with Nari, she would have to start a window washing side hustle to be able to afford her student loan payments.

“It’s my favorite business world, the one where we have to sneak into galas to close deals,” Jennifer snorted.