Alexis powered down her laptop, and Isabelle did the same. They stowed them in their humongous Fendi and Versace bags. Alexis pulled out another wad of gum and handed a piece to Isabelle.

“Ready for action?”

“You bet!” Isabelle gave her a high five.

The plane touched down without a bump and glided into the small area near the quaint alpine-and-stone terminal of Aspen-Pitkin County Airport. There was a commercial propeller plane nearby. Unlike at the huge metropolitan airports, with jetways to the gate, the grounds people here had to roll portable stairs to the planes for the passengers to get on and off.

Just as they had done earlier, the women linked arms when their feet hit the ground, making a little bit of a scene. No one would recognize either one of them on any other occasion without that disguise. They were memorable, no doubt. But in the best way possible. No one would remember Isabelle or Alexis. Only the two bimbos named Chantal and Monique, whose names were on a sign being held by what appeared to be a driver.

The women waved their arms wildly. “Yoo-hoo! Here we are!” Alexis shrieked. The women wobbled toward the man, whose face was quickly turning red. “Hey! Hey! You our driver?”

With less enthusiasm than a mannequin, the young man barely mumbled, “Yes, I am, ma’am.”

“Don’t you be calling us ma’ams. Ya hear? We are ladies.” Alexis was pouring it on thick. Isabelle gave her an elbow. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Monique, but don’t you be harassing this fine young man. He’s got to take us to our place.” Isabelle directed her attention to the driver. “How do you do? Don’t you mind her. She gets all uppity when anyone calls her ma’am. We should get a move on. We have a few bags . . . Er, what was your name again?”

“Richard,” he answered reluctantly.

“Well, Richard, can you go fetch our suitcases please?” Monique/Alexis turned on the charm.

“Yes, of course.” Richard pulled down the brim of his cap and retrieved their bags from the cart. “Follow me please.” He couldn’t walk fast enough. He practically threw the luggage into the back of the SUV, helped the women into their seats, and dived into the vehicle.

“Do you have the address?” Isabelle asked.

“Yes, ninety-three Primrose Path.” Richard stepped on the accelerator as if he were stomping out a fire.

Isabelle and Alexis were trying very hard not to laugh, to the point where their bodies started shaking and then tears started rolling down their faces. When Isabelle’s nose started to run, that was the final straw. They couldn’t contain themselves any longer. The burst of laughter came as an explosion, causing Richard to slam on the brakes. Both women slid off their seats and ended up on the floor of the car. That brought more laughter when Isabelle’s dreadlocks got tangled.