By Friday, I’m beginning to think it’s over with Josh. I’ve tried calling every day and leaving apologies but have gotten nothing but voice mail. I got a few texts back saying he was extremely busy and will touch base soon. But I get the impression this prospect has flown the coop.

Which, to be honest, might not be a bad thing.

Because the other thing stuck in the back of my mind was that flash of temper I saw. To be fair, I’ve got the typical short fuse of a Sicilian (see: Corleone, Sonny) and I’m not the most calm person when I get mad. And it’s understandable that he’d be upset having a day’s work wiped out right before a deadline. Still... the way he screamed at Gypsy who was just being a cat... well...

Anyway, I’m meeting Beckett’s sister Charlotte for a late lunch at two as she understands I’m tied up at the deli until the midday rush is over. While I don’t think I’ve reached the point of needing to talk with family members after knowing him such a short time, she was so damn polite I couldn’t possibly turn her down. But of course we all know the Brits are beyond polite. I’m not sure if this was Beckett’s idea or not, but it’s clear the woman wants us to get together.

Not that I’m complaining.

I’ve arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early, a nice casual place that still has a few customers at this hour. I’ve never been here so I’m checking out the menu when I see Charlotte walk through the door. I wave and she smiles as she spots me, then heads in my direction.

All activity in the restaurant comes to a screeching halt.

To say this stunning woman stops traffic is putting it mildly. She stops time, like that old episode of the Twilight Zone. Every guy in the place looks like he’s doing the mannequin challenge, their forks hovering in midair as they watch her saunter in my direction. (I think men actually see beautiful women in slow motion, with those invisible electric fans blowing their hair.) And it’s not like she’s wearing anything flashy. A dark blue suit that’s beyond conservative, like something from Tish’s favorite store. But Charlotte doesn’t pay any attention to the men as she’s locked onto me. She arrives at the table and takes a seat. The eating resumes among the men, many of whom are blushing and now checking to make sure their napkins have not been knocked from their laps.

“Thanks so much for meeting me, A.J.”

“Thanks for inviting me. It’s nice to eat somewhere other than my deli.”

“And I’m sure it’s nice to be waited on for a change.”

“Very true.”

“Listen, I hope I’m not being too pushy meeting you like this, but my brother has been going on and on about you and I thought it would be nice to get to know you. Of course he’d kill me if he knew I just said that.”

I can’t help but smile. “My lips are sealed.”

***

AN HOUR LATER I FEEL like I’ve just had lunch with Beckett’s public relations director, but it’s simply clear that his sister wants him to find the perfect person and she seems to think I might be it. We’re heading out of the restaurant when her cell rings and she pulls it from her purse. She sees it’s her brother calling. “Excuse me a minute. I’ve been waiting for this call. Hope my brother has good news.” She takes the call. “Hi...” She listens for a moment, then nods. “Monday morning at ten for the hearing. I’ll meet you there. I know, I hope this will finally be over for you. I’m sure it will be. Love you. Bye.” She hangs up and puts the phone back in her purse.

“Everything okay, Charlotte?”

“We’ll know Monday. As you know the justice system often moves at a glacial pace. It would be nice if he could finally close the book on this chapter and have his marriage declared over.”

I stop dead in my tracks.

My jaw drops. Well, actually it hangs open like a trophy bass.

He’s married?

She looks at her watch. “Oh, A.J., I’ve gotta run. Really enjoyed lunch. See you soon!”

“Uh-huh.” I’m so stunned it’s all I can get out as she jogs to her car.

I’m still standing there in shock as she drives away.

And it hits me that I have a date with a married man.

Tomorrow night.

Oh my God. I’m the other woman.

The mistress.

Even though it’s forty degrees, the sweat begins to pour from my face.

***

NOW IN THE PAST WHEN I’ve dated men who seemed “questionable” I’ve had Madison put on her network reporter hat and do a background check on my behalf. On a few occasions she’s turned up some interesting tidbits, like the time she discovered the guy I was dating had once worked in a porn movie. His excuse: “I was young and I needed the work.” (And yes, I did rent the movie later, but we won’t discuss that.) Unfortunately Madison is out of the country covering the President and there’s no way to have her dig into someone’s background, and there’s certainly not enough time. So I’ve convened an emergency meeting with Rory and Tish on this Friday night.

Because as red flags go, a wedding ring is the ultimate when it comes to men I date. No way, no how. Aint going down that road. None of this “my wife doesn’t understand me” or “I’m leaving her soon” batch of lies. I know too many women who have fallen for those lines.

Reminds me of something my mother used to tell me:

What’s the first thing you should notice about a man?

His left hand.

Besides, any man who would cheat on his wife would cheat on his next wife. Or his girlfriend.

Or... his mistress.

Still, this is baffling because of the way Charlotte acted regarding the situation. So casual.

Which begs the question... what the hell is the situation? Is Beckett getting a divorce on Monday? Is his wife here or in London? Why are they splitting up? And the big one... does he have kids? Inquiring minds wanna know.

Of course I’ll know one way or the other by tomorrow night, since there’s no way in hell I’m going out with him. I’m gonna go full prosecutor on the guy.

With Gypsy completely well (she sailed past me this morning from the top of a kitchen cabinet and I swear she yelled “Banzai!”) I’m free to go out, and since I want to drown my sorrows with food we’re at this classic 24-hour Greek diner that serves huge portions. The place looks like an old silver railroad car and the menu probably has more than a hundred choices. You can breathe the deep-fried air. Plus, if you need to feed your sweet tooth, the homemade baklava is absolutely stellar.

We hand our menus to the waitress and Rory gives me a soulful look. “You’ve had a rough week, kiddo.”

I slowly nod. “Tell me about it. Josh is basically on radio silence since Gypsy wiped out his work and Beckett is married. And here I thought I was going to have a tough choice between two great guys.”

Tish shakes her head. “Beckett seemed too good to be true. You find out anything about him?”

“I did an internet search but all I found was stuff about his job with the British ambassador. No photos, no bio mentioning a wife. If Madison were here she could get the whole story.”

“I checked the legal database,” says Tish. “Didn’t find any divorce cases with his name. I even called a lawyer I know in Great Britain and he didn’t find a divorce case either.”

I shrug. “Guess I’ll find out tomorrow night.”

Rory’s eyes widen a bit. “You’re not actually going to go out with him, are you?”

“No, but I want to confront him about this. I have to know. I mean, is he just a guy waiting a few days for his divorce to go through? Are there children involved? Why are they splitting up? But what really puzzles me was his sister’s attitude about the whole thing. So casual, like it’s no big deal that her married brother is dating someone.”

Rory reaches over to pat my hand. “Well, even if he was just waiting for his divorce to be finalized, there’s still no excuse for not telling you he’s married.”