THE CEO'S MARRIAGE PROPOSAL

The kitchen of Jessica's family fried chicken restaurant roared with sizzling oil, the crackling sound almost loud enough to drown out her father's voice. Almost.

"Jessica! Another order for table five! Hurry!"

"I'm on it, Dad!" Jessica Robert yelled back, balancing three baskets of golden-brown chicken wings on her arm. The familiar smell of fried batter and garlic-soy glaze clung to her hair and clothes. She set the trays down on the serving counter, wiped her hands on her apron, and brushed the sweat off her forehead.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Once. Twice. Then a stream of impatient vibrations, as though the device itself were panicking.

Jessica ignored it, reaching for a stack of napkins.

"jessica," her mother's voice came from behind, exasperated, "if you don't answer that thing, I'll throw it into the fryer!"

Rolling her eyes, Jessica snatched her phone. "Hello?"

"Jessica! You have to save me!" came Sophia Wilson's frantic voice.

Jessica groaned. "What is it this time? Please tell me you didn't lock yourself in the tanning booth again."

"This is serious!" Sophia wailed. "My father set me up on a blind date tonight. With some rich jerk. He says if I don't show up, I'll regret it. I can't go!"

"So cancel."

"I tried! He's sending a driver. He'll probably drag me there himself."

Jessica shook her head, already sensing where this was going. "No. Absolutely not. Don't even think about asking-"

"Please, Jessica! Just go as me. Pretend to be me for one night. Make him hate me. I'll owe you forever!"

"I'm not a magician! And what if this guy is a complete psycho?"

"Then you'll never have to see him again. Perfect outcome!"

Jessica pressed her palm against her forehead. This was ridiculous. Her friend always dragged her into schemes, but this... this was outrageous.

"Jessica," Sophia's voice softened into her most dangerous weapon: pleading sweetness. "Remember that karaoke night when your ex showed up drunk? Who pulled you out the back door in four-inch heels? Who lied to his face and told him you'd joined a convent?"

"Ugh." Jessica squeezed her eyes shut. "Fine! But if I get fired, you're paying my rent."

"You're the best!" Young-seo squealed. "Driver's on the way. Wear something nice!"

The line clicked dead.

Jessica stared at her phone in despair. "I'm doomed."

Two hours later, Jessica sat before a glittering vanity in Sophia's bedroom. Everything about the room screamed wealth-plush carpet, designer shoes lined like soldiers, a perfume collection worth more than Jessica's monthly rent.

And then there was Jessica's reflection.

Her familiar, bare face was gone. In its place: flawless foundation, smoky eyeliner, rosy lips. Her hair fell in sleek waves around her shoulders.

"Do I really need all this makeup?" she muttered.

Sophia circled her like a stylist before a runway show. "Yes. You're me tonight. Which means elegant, poised, irresistible."

"Or insane," Jessica corrected. "The goal is to scare him off, right?"

"Exactly!" Sophia grinned. She pulled a dress from