The Monday lunch rush is nearly over at one-thirty, with Connie taking orders while I slice the cold cuts and put the sandwiches together. While I’m not completely in my body yet after a six day work week with a fundraiser thrown in and a Sunday night date, my mind is going at warp speed thinking about the Josh-and-baseball question.

And then I hear it.

“Good afternoon, Miss. My, what a lovely establishment. I should endeavor to purchase... a Reuben.”

Electricity shoots through my body.

A British accent.

I whip my head around to see its owner and it’s all I can do to keep my jaw from dropping.

Speechless Guy.

Oh. My. God. The seriously cute guy in the suspenders with the great eyes is British!

Downton Hottie.

I immediately stop slicing, quickly head to the counter and basically shove my poor sister out of the way with a shoulder block that would get me a tryout with the Giants. She is probably shooting me a dirty look but I’m totally locked in to a man who now has a voice. “Well, hello again. I was wondering if you were going to come by or if you were just being polite that evening.”

“I always intended to sample more of your cuisine but a change in my schedule took me out of town.”

Dear God, the way he says schedule. Shed-jool.

If he has more words like that, I’ll be Speechless Girl.

“Oh. By the way, you missed the desserts that night. I was wondering if you were avoiding me. I mean, we had such a nice conversation.”

He laughs a bit as he pats his stomach. “I sampled so many things I was about to explode at that point. Didn’t have room for dessert.”

“And now you have a voice.”

“Yes, I have hopefully retired my pen and pad to communicate.”

“So, you’d like a Reuben?”

“Please. I’ve heard they’re spectacular here.”

“We think so, even if this is an Italian deli. Have a seat. I’ll make one personally and bring it over to you.”

“How very kind of you.”

I watch him walk over to the corner table and feel my sister pat my wrist. “Down, girl.”

“Leave me alone.”

“I’m gonna bring him the phone book and tell him to read it aloud just to torture you.”

“Stop it.” I head back to the slicer and set about cutting the corned beef for the sandwich, stealing occasional glances at the man previously known as Speechless Guy who is now seated at a table reading the New York Post. And he’s reading the back page. The sports section. Maybe he likes baseball?

About a minute later my sister taps me on the shoulder. “A.J.?”

“Huh?”

She points at the slicer. “I think that’s quite enough for a sandwich.”

I look down and see that I’ve sliced about a pound of corned beef. “Oh, hell. I was, uh, distracted.”

“Yeah, that’s a good word for it. Looks like we’re all having corned beef for lunch.” She laughs and walks back to the counter.

I quickly assemble the sandwich, careful that it is absolutely perfect, then head over to deliver it, grabbing a Doctor Brown’s cream soda and a bag of gourmet potato chips along the way. He smiles and folds up his newspaper as I arrive at his table, those eyes sending shivers through my body. “Here you go. And this is the perfect drink for a Reuben.” I slide the sandwich in front of him.

“Thank you. Looks positively delicious.”

“Can I get you anything else?” Coffee... tea... me?

“Thank you, I think this will be sufficient for the time being. Not sure I’ll have room for dessert, but we’ll see.”

I note he’s the only customer left in the place. Great. I can sit down and find out more about this guy. I start to pull out a chair. “So, are you—”

And then I hear the squeal of brakes as a damn tour bus pulls up and stops right in front. The door opens and dozens of people stream into our deli, which is suddenly experiencing a second lunch rush.

“Oh, hell. You gotta be kidding me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, I thought lunch hour was over. Well, enjoy. I’ll check back on you later.”

***

A HALF HOUR LATER WE finally get through serving the thirty or so tourists who wanted to take home some real Italian desserts. They all head back to the bus, each carrying a box, and I immediately turn to the tables.

He’s gone.

“Well, shit.”

Connie shuts the cash register. “What are you complaining about? Those people spent a damn fortune. We’re practically wiped out of pastries.”

“Not that. I wanted to talk to the British guy and he’s gone now. Sonofabitch.”

“Yeah, he left about five minutes ago. Said to thank you and that he’ll be back. Handed me some money and told me to keep the change.” She flashes a Cheshire cat smile. “I got a five dollar tip. Ha!”

“Damn tour bus. Why the hell did they have to stop here?”

She folds her arms and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I should have remembered that anytime a guy A.J. likes comes into the place I should put the key in the door and turn off the sign that says we’re open.”

“You know what I mean. Damn, that voice. Did you hear the way he pronounced schedule? Shed-jool.”

“Yeah, it sounds so classy when you say it.”

“Smart ass.”

She points to the table where he was sitting. “He cleaned his plate. Don’t worry, sis, he’ll be back. Meanwhile, I seem to remember you have a really nice guy already interested in you. As Father Albert says, temptation is sittin’ on your shoulder. Better go to confession.”

“I haven’t committed any sins.”

“I saw your eyes. And you licked your lips. You looked like you wanted to devour the guy. That was pure, unadulterated lust. One of the seven deadly ones.”

“Fine, go light a candle for me.”

“You might need more than one.”

***

“EARTH TO A.J.”

Rory’s voice breaks the daydream and I return to Sunday brunch. “Sorry.”

Madison furrows her brow. “What is it with you today? You’ve barely said a word. You just tired, or what?”

“Sorry. Got a lot on my mind.”

Tish pops an olive in her mouth. “Another great date with Mister Architect last Sunday?”

“Things are going well with him.”

Rory drops her fork. “Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.”

“What didn’t sound good?”

“You didn’t sound terribly excited when you said it. You may as well be talking about your retirement account.”

“I’m just tired. Busy week. But, really, we’re just fine.” I turn my attention back to the food, needing to change the subject. “Did you make the chicken, Madison? It’s really good.”

Now she stops eating. “Oh, give me a break, A.J. You know damn well I could burn a salad. C’mon, out with it. Just fine isn’t good enough for you. What’s the problem with Josh? I can tell there’s something bothering you.”

“It’s not something... it’s... someone. Someone else I met.”

“Ah, you’re back to playing the field again. So who is bachelor number two?”

“I don’t know.”

Rory puts up her hands. “Okay, hold on a minute, everybody stop eating. I think A.J. has gone into vapor lock. You have been dating a nice guy and you don’t know who else is on your dance card? What are you, a typical man who has a great woman but always wonders if there’s someone better out there?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s someone I met but I don’t know anything about him.”

“And his name would be...”

“Don’t know that either.”

Tish goes into lawyer mode. “The witness is being evasive. Please answer the question.”

I slowly nod. “Fine. It’s the man you refer to as Speechless Guy. He came by the deli for lunch. He can talk now.”

“Ah, he has a voice. And...”

I lower my voice and look down. “He, uh... has a British accent.”

I hear “Whoa!” in unison.

Rory starts to laugh. “Oh my God, the universe just played its trump card. So what’s the deal with this guy?”

“That’s the problem, I don’t know. He came in after one, the place was empty, I made him lunch and was about to sit down with him and then a friggin’ tour bus with thirty people shows up. By the time we waited on everyone he was gone. I didn’t get a name or anything beyond eye contact. Which, as previously noted, was spectacular. Only thing I found out was that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

Tish continues the interrogation. “I see. So let me get this straight... isn’t it true that while you’re dating a man who has treated you very well and for whom you feel a strong physical attraction, you’re hoping Speechless Guy will come back to the deli because he possesses the one trait you previously stated was necessary in your perfect man?”

“You gonna prosecute me for considering all options? May I remind you that you were the one who said I can’t judge anyone after one date.”

“But you’ve had more than one date. And stop being evasive. The witness is directed to answer the question. Are you now spending more time thinking about Speechless Guy?”

I throw up my hands. “Fine! I hope he comes back to the deli. If nothing else but to hear that voice.”

Madison laughs. “I can see why you rarely lose a case, Tish.”

I start eating again. “Can we please change the subject?”

“No!” in unison again.

I put out my wrists like I’m waiting to be handcuffed. “Fine, I confess! Excuse the hell out of me for having a possible interest in a guy! It’s not like Josh and I are engaged. Besides—” I fail to catch my thought by the tail. Oh, shit, I just opened the door for Tish.

Tish leans forward. “Besides... what?”

“Nothing.”

“The witness is directed—”

“Oh, stop with the lawyering! If you must know, there’s a little thing that has been stuck in the back of my mind since we went to the Mets game.”

“Please elaborate for the jury.”

I roll my eyes but know Tish isn’t gonna drop it. “Fine. We’re at the game, it’s the top of the ninth inning and the Mets are leading by one run. The other team doesn’t score so the game is over, right? Everyone stands up to leave and Josh is just sitting there apparently waiting for the Mets to hit. So I tell him the game’s over. And he says, Oh, right. Like he didn’t know that if the home team is ahead after the top of the ninth they don’t come to bat in the bottom of the inning.”

Rory shrugs. “What’s the big deal? Obviously the guy doesn’t know baseball.”

“That’s the thing. When I suggested going to the game he said he loves baseball. So I was wondering if he’s one of those guys who agrees with everything while you’re dating and then after you get married you find out you really don’t have anything in common and end up binge-watching Netflix all alone while he becomes one with a reclining chair.”

Tish slowly nods. “Actually, that is a very interesting point. Something to keep your eye on. Prosecution rests. The witness is excused.”

Rory gets a gleam in her eye. “I know how you can tell if he’s one of those guys who agrees with everything. Suggest going to a Celine Dion concert. If he says he loves her, you know he’s a liar.”

“Hell, if I ever end up at a Celine Dion concert, just shoot me, because I will have gone insane.”