“We see you!” Frannie bellowed and waved, so Alexa had no choice but to join them even though she wanted to head to her room, deep moisturize her face, and go down an internet rabbit hole of everyone that Timmo Lynch had ever dated in his seventy years on the planet. But all that would have to wait.

Standing tall and proud, Alexa called, “I see you, too!”

They made room at their table and Mitsy summoned over the server. “What can I buy you?” she said, taking control of the situation. (Mitsy was proving to be surprisingly adept at spycraft for an eighty-year-old philanthropist. She was a timeline master, kept everyone on schedule, and had a keen understanding of protocol. Plus, she understood that the primary mission of the Widows was to provide cover. She was the one who had chosen the hotel for its low profile and average tourist clientele. “We can’t stay in our usual place. We need to make Penny think this really was a last-minute trip and this is all we could secure,” Mitsy had argued as she instructed Alexa to make the reservations.) Enveloped in tweed and cashmere with a swipe of Black Honey Almost Lipstick in place, Mitsy was the opposite of average. And the first to ask the question they all were thinking, “How was your evening? And your morning?”

The Merry Widows bubbled over with excitement. This was the good stuff they had been waiting for Alexa to divulge for over a decade. Finally, they had caught her in the act, so to speak. With the mayor! The George Clooney of politicians. This was a layer of romance they hadn’t suspected.

“So. . . tell us everything,” Ming insisted, as more coffee arrived.

“First, I must let you know, he is up to speed on the plan for tonight. He will execute his end of the plan,” Alexa confirmed, antagonizing her friends on purpose. They could wait for the juicy stuff.

Mitsy took the lead. “Well, that’s grand to hear, but that’s not why we all got up at the crack of dawn.”

Alexa dragged the moment out by taking a long sip of her weak hotel coffee before saying, “I can confirm that Timmo Lynch is a very charming man with a stunning apartment who can make a very good old-fashioned. And that is all I am going to divulge.” There was a round of boos and disappointed faces.

“Is he still operational?” Roxanne asked, making a gesture with her hands that was considered impolite in most countries. Gasps all around followed by laughter.