“He was gone,” Nona suggested.

Nye’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Because I’ve heard this from some other people. Don’t take it personally. Now we’d better run.” At the door Nona called over her shoulder, “Give me the ticket. I’ll take care of it.”

In the cab on the way to meet Erin, Darcy found herself wondering what it was that made someone pull a trick like that. Nye was genuinely attractive. Was she too young for the man she had met? When she answered the ad she must have given her age. Did he have some image in mind that Nye didn’t fit? It was a disquieting thought. As the cab bumped and lurched through Seventy-second Street traffic, she commented, “Nona, when we started answering these ads, I thought of it as a joke. Now I’m not so sure. It’s like having a blind date without the security of being introduced to the guy because he’s the best friend of somebody’s brother. Can you imagine any man you know doing that? Even if for some reason Nye’s date hated the way she dressed or wore her hair or whatever, all he had to do was have a quick drink and say he was rushing for a plane. He still gets away fast and doesn’t leave her feeling like a fool.” “Darcy, let’s face it,” Nona said. “From all the reports I’m hearing, most of the people who place or answer these ads are pretty insecure. What’s a lot more scary is that just today I got a letter from an FBI agent who’d heard about the program and said he wants to talk to me. He’d like us to include a warning that these ads are a natural for sexual psychopaths.”

“What a lovely thought!”

As usual, Bella Vita offered encompassing warmth. The wonderful, familiar garlicky aroma was in the air. There was a faint hum of talk and laughter. Adam, the owner, greeted them. “Ah, the beautiful ladies. I have your table.” He indicated one by the window.