False Pretenses

Part 1

Prologue

"Do you understand what you have to do?" he asked, his frame overshadowing mine. He'd always been a big man, and even as he got older, he had one of those looks that made a person think twice about doing anything to cross him.

I nodded my head at him. "I get it. All I have to do is go in and pretend to be this heiress, doesn't sound too difficult."

My boss rolled his eyes, and I could tell by his expression that the man was trying to keep a smile off his face. "You have to pretend to be an uppity rich girl, who, might I add, does not have a good relationship with her family."

"Tell me, Mitch, why do you think this will work in the first place? Don't people know what this woman looks like?"

"That's the thing," Mitch drawled, "dye your hair black, and you look exactly like the woman."

I tried to keep it in, but I couldn't. Letting out a laugh, I shook my head at him again. "I've seen pictures of this woman. She looks nothing like me. Even if I stick my hair into a gallon of black paint, I'm not going to look even a tiny bit like her."

"I wish you would just listen, for once," Mitch said with a voice he used for children, or in this case, difficult employees.

"Don't complain," I told him with a smile. Mitch had been a second father to me since I got in this business, and we knew each other better than we knew ourselves. "I'm the best you have."

He gave me a scolding look. "You're the best female worker I have."

My eyes widened, filling with tears. My lip trembled, and I immediately bit it to keep the action from becoming to noticeable. Mitch's face flashed to concern before he let out a laugh. "Okay, so you're good, but that does not mean that you need to be cocky."

I instantly sobered. "I know there are people out there that can do undercover work better than I can. It's just how I am. If I pretend to be the best, I won't be so surprised when someone or something disappoints me."

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? If you don't put yourself up on a pedestal, it won't hurt when you fall."

"I'm twenty-four years old, Mitch. I learned long ago how my mind works, and believe me, I work best if I expect the most from myself."

"I believe you, kid. Now, go suit up."

I glanced over at the clothing that was set out for me. A peach dress, the color of my skin, sat on a nearby table. White heels resided next to it, as did an arsenal of jewelry. I let out a groan. "The dress is going to be tight."

"It's how she wears them."

"The shoes are going to hurt like hell."

"She loves heels, says that they make your legs look miles long."

"I'm going to lose the jewelry."

"It's fake."

My head snapped over to him in surprise. "Really?"

"No," he replied with a smile. "I just wanted you to stop complaining. Now, get to work before I fire your ass."

He turned and began walking out the door. "Wait!" I called out.

He looked back over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. Ignoring the trepidation that entered my body, I asked, "What is my name again?"

An evil smile crossed his face. "Dorothy."

"Good God," I mumbled. "Could it be any worse?"

"Be thankful your name isn't Beatrice," he threw over his shoulder as he disappeared from sight.

Looking over at my clothing, I had to admit that the dress was beautiful. The heels were something I could have afforded on my own, but never would actually buy. The jewelry was magnificent, and another thing I would never get for myself. I had an unnatural ability to lose almost everything I touched.

Pulling the large sweater over my head, I yanked my jeans off before grabbing the dress. As it slinked down my frame, I went into character. The once bright, vibrant eyes, turned cold. The nose that never looked down on people, turned up in a snobbish manor. I was now Dorothy, the heiress who hated her family.

***Cover by Eyekandi***