Agent Foley explained the rest. Walter had been the victim of a romance scam ring that targeted lonely widowers and blackmailed them with fake photos. Rather than pay, he had gone to the FBI and agreed to help trap the ring’s local contact, who always arrived at the restaurant windows to check a target’s date. The heels were a signal, because the contact had described Walter’s last victim’s height in a coded message and expected a tall woman to appear.

The agents needed the contact to see me in the window, standing and tall, so he would believe the setup was real and walk in to collect cash. When I stood, the contact had appeared across the street, and the agents had arrived early, which was why Walter panicked. Foley apologized and said I had been in no danger, only part of a plan that should have been explained to me beforehand. Walter admitted he had been too embarrassed to tell me the whole truth.

The contact was arrested that night in the restaurant parking lot, with fifteen thousand dollars of Walter’s marked cash in his pocket. That led to the arrest of three more members of the ring over the next month, and the return of money to nineteen victims. Walter, who had lost eleven thousand dollars before going to the authorities, got most of it back. I was angry for a day, and then I laughed, because I had never been so useful on a first date.

Walter and I had coffee the following weekend, with no heels and no agents. He admitted I was the kindest person he had met in years, and I admitted I liked his honesty, eventually. We still meet on Sundays, and he stands on a small step stool to kiss my cheek. My granddaughter says it is the best love story she has ever heard, and I tell her to stay off the apps, except for the ones that matter.