He stood up when I came into the room.“Steve, «figlio mio», to what do I owe the honor?”“I need some advice, Don Joseph,” I said.He motioned...for me to sit in an identical chair next to his and I sat down. It almost felt like being in a confessional, though without the screen between us. I explained to Don Joseph what Becky had told me on the phone, her reaction to it, and my concern. He asked me a few questions about my activities in Chicago and I told him about the few times I’d accompanied. .and what if I did? A relationship?I smirked and wiped a bit of wayward polish off my little toe. A relationship was hard to picture: Alan here, on this crummy old couch, or the two us holding hands in public. No, that seemed pretty unlikely....so, what, an affair?I cringed at the thought of sneaking around, ducking into sleazy hotels, or worrying about his wife coming home early. No, thank you.In fact, I felt a little bad about helping him cheat on his wife. I mean, that was his deal to deal. More

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