People stared at them as they stepped out of the van. Everyone smiled and said, “Good evening, Sisters, Father.” Sam felt like a cheat and a fraud. She wondered if the others felt the same way. She thought then about what she was going to feel when she set eyes on the man she had been married to for three whole weeks.

“Showtime,” Slick whispered in her ear. “You can do this, Sam. He’s just someone you used to know. That’s how you have to think about it. The others only see dollar signs. Come on, Sam, square those shoulders and remember what I said. You guys got him. That alone should satisfy you. Here comes Joey. Time to go in and…what’s that saying, beard the lion or something like that.”

Sam smiled. “Do you think this particular lion is going to roar?”

“Oh, honey, this particular lion is going to mew like a sick kitten. Trust me.”

It was a small, sparkling-clean restaurant with delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. Starched red-and-white-checkered tablecloths were on all the tables. In the center of each table were containers of grated cheese and hot pepper flakes and baskets of crunchy breadsticks. Standard Italian fare.

Mr. and Mrs. Panella came out from the kitchen to greet their distinguished guests. Sam couldn’t remember if they were in on the plan or they really thought the group was what they pretended to be. Everyone smiled, everyone nodded. Mrs. Panella, a rotund little lady with rosy cheeks and short gray hair, beamed her pleasure. She had a smudge of flour on one cheek, and her apron was as white and as crisp as the checkered tablecloths.

The long table was set and just waiting for the group to sit down. They did. Carafes of dark red wine appeared as if by magic. Baskets of piping hot garlic bread followed.

Sam was annoyed that her back and the backs of her whole team would be to Douglas. The newest group of Rainford “wives” and Joey would be facing Douglas’s table. Joey said it would be best. The newest members wore round granny glasses, and Joey had altered their noses a little with latex putty, so they looked nothing like the exotic creatures they really were.

By the time Senator Wyne and his two guests arrived, Sam’s party had consumed all the garlic bread and downed two glasses of wine each.

Sam looked around, the head covering she wore shielding her face in profile. All the other tables were filled with quiet couples intent on eating a good, filling meal. Conversation was subdued. Soft music could be heard in the kitchen; then again, maybe it was a television.