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“Exactly.”

Tonight’s operation required three improvements.

First, a different vehicle. Roman knows Gracie's car now.

Second, better positioning. No more following directly behind him like an idiot.

Third, better disguises for both of us. I added a scarf and a pair of ridiculous sunglasses to my brown wig. And since Roman is James and watches my Instagram Stories, Alibi needs one, too.

I reach over and straighten the scarf around Alibi's neck. “You look adorable.”

Alibi stares at me through a pair of dog sunglasses. I call them his Doggles. Gracie got them for Walter, but he hates them and tried to chew them up. Technically, they're protective eyewear for dogs. Today they're espionage equipment.

“You look very convincing.”

His tongue hangs out.

“Honestly, more convincing than I do in my brown wig.”

His tail thumps.

“Don't get cocky, though. That leads to mistakes.”

I study Alibi thoughtfully.

The doggles might be a little much. But nobody looks at a dog wearing sunglasses and thinks, That woman is conducting surveillance. They think, Holy shit, look at that dog.

Which means they're not looking at me.

Honestly, it's genius.

I check the time.

Roman’s truck is still there, but he hasn’t shown up yet.

A truck slows down, its turn signal on. I lower in my seat, watching over the steering wheel.

“I think that’s him, Alibi.”

Alibi’s ears twitch.

“Yes… that is him.”

I watch him climb out, his eyes locked on his truck.

Aw. He’s so cute when he’s shocked.

A man climbs out from the driver’s side. He's tall. Probably six-three, with dark blond hair, broad shoulders, and a body that tells me Roman apparently has a very strict minimum hotness requirement for friendship.

Unlike Roman, he's smiling.

I know exactly who he is.

Beck.

Roman strides over to his truck, peels off a sticky note, and reads it. Beck leans over his shoulder, and Roman says something I can’t hear. But he looks annoyed as hell.

Beck tries grabbing the note, but Roman moves it out of his way before he gets too close.