“Across the street on the edge of the park, there’s a man and a woman sitting on opposite ends of a bench with their backs to me. It looks like they’re talking to each other,” said Zoe, her voice getting higher. “I can’t tell if they’re together. The man’s wearing a NYC Fire Department hat, a red T-shirt, and gray sweats. He’s got on a NY Rangers mask and I think, Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses. The woman has on dark-blue leggings, a long-sleeved white T-shirt and a white baseball hat. She’s wearing a navy-blue mask with some kind of emblem on the side that looks like a white dress shirt with a red tie. She’s also wearing a pair of oversized blue aviator sunglasses. Those are seriously nice shades. Between her glasses, mask and hat, I can’t see her face at all. This masking thing totally cramps my spy style.”

“What brand of sunglasses is she wearing?”

“Wait a second, they’re both playing with their phones and… oh my God, I can see their phone screens. Sean, I can read what’s on their phone. I can see what they’re doing, what they’re saying.”

“Get out!”

“No seriously,” said Zoe, leaning closer to the glass in the window. “The man is bidding on a used lamp on eBay. His username is SlyDog303 and he just bid twenty-eight dollars for this incredibly hideous lamp. Why would anyone want that lamp?”

“You can really see all that from your window? Holy shit,” said Sean, laughing. “What’s the item number on the lamp, I’ll go to that page on eBay and bid up his auction.”

Zoe giggled. “Let me see what the woman is up to,” she said, shifting her gaze to the far end of the same bench.

“What’s she doing?”

“Hold on a minute. I think she’s texting. Yes, she’s texting.”

“Can you read it?” said Sean.

“Oh my God. I think so.”

“This is fantastic. It takes stalking to a whole new level.”

“Sean, I can read her texts,” said Zoe, squealing. “She’s typing.” Zoe read the first text to Sean. “‘When I got furloughed from T and C, I thought it would only be a few weeks. Now, they’re closing some stores. Rumor is they’re going to file for bankruptcy. Great! What am I supposed to do now?’”

“What do you think T and C is?” said Zoe, her eyes remaining on the woman’s phone.

“Town and Country?” said Sean.

“That’s a magazine, not a store,” she said, looking over at Sean’s face and giving him a disapproving look.

“Sorry. If it’s a store, it’s got to be Thayer and Company, the high-end clothing store.”