She sighed. Even if Travis got back on time, that lovely trip probably wasn’t going to happen now, but for the best of reasons. Milo, her boss at the Guardian, had assigned her that very day to cover a newcomer, Alexander Talbot Harrington, in his run for mayor. It would be her first dive as a reporter into the political deep end of a campaign that was already heating up. She’d spent much of her day researching Harrington, and despite the three very proper names, which in his case really did mean pots of old money, she was finding him interesting. He was the scion of the wealthy Boston Harringtons, multigenerational owners of the First Street Corporation, an international banking firm touting roots that went back to the National Bank, founded in 1792. Yes, old, old money and clout, political and otherwise. He’d headed up the New York branch of the family business for the past five-plus years, but when he declared his candidacy for office, he handed the reins to his operational VP for the duration of his campaign, and beyond, if he won. Tonight was to be his biggest fundraiser, and Milo had gotten Mia invited.

Her cell belted out “Bad Henry” by Thorny. It was Travis.

It burst right out of her. “Travis, have I got some news for you!”

He laughed. “Let me guess. I know you’re not pregnant unless you’ve kicked me to the curb and found someone else. I know you weren’t fired or your folks would have called me, and best of all, come Tuesday, we’ll be down to seventeen days and counting. And wonder of wonders, it looks like everything’s on schedule, which means, of course, the American on-site architect is really amazing at his job, able to corral all the wild hares, otherwise known as contractors and their minions. Well, for the most part.”

Mia laughed, too. “Okay, tell me how you’re doing with the Taj Mahal. Really, it’s all on schedule? And what do you mean, most part?”

She heard him sigh. “So far. I speak French and my German doesn’t totally suck, but when the head contractor, Gottfried Himmler, wants something I don’t want to approve, he speaks fast to try to trip me up.”

“No need to flatten him, maybe just take him behind the porta potty and explain how things are done in the US if someone doesn’t cooperate.”

“Haven’t yet, but I do speak back to him in English, lots of idioms, just as fast. We’ve got this stalemate going.”

“So no whips or chains required?”

“It was close once, but I appealed to his perfectionist side.”

“Is it as cold there as it is here?”