Page 112 of DadBod

ELIZABETH

Standingoutside the front door of the restaurant, I glance at the door, then at Jeriann. “You sure Rome won’t find out?”

“He’s home with the kids, and I’m beyond swamped thanks to stupid Hamilton. God, I’ve never wanted a play to close more than I want that one.”

“Stop.” I laugh at my best friend. “If you hear he’s coming in, I’ll run out the back door.”

“Into that icky alley. No way. There are weirdos that hang out there.”

“That’d be the cooking staff.”

“Don’t remind me.” With sincerity, Jeriann touches my forearm. “Look. Dadbod put me in charge. I haven’t had time to hire anyone to fill in after Monica got canned…”

“And me. He canned me too.”

“Well, you’ve been rehired by the new manager.”

“If you say so.”

“Anyhoo, honey bun. I need help, and you’re the best in the business.”

That’s sweet of her to say, but it’s not true. “It’s a good thing I’ve got no pride.” Because if I did, I’d never set foot in When in Rome again.

Jeriann pulls open the door and holds it for me. Stepping into foyer, the first thing I notice is the smell of our signature sauce cooking in the back. It’s been less than a week, and I can tell you, I missed this place. Jeriann steps around me and claps her hands. “Hey, bitches. She’s back. If you’ve got a problem, you talk to me.”

Surprisingly, the response isn’t what I expected. Neither is the one who starts it. Jackie sees me and starts to clap. The rest of the front of the house follows suit. I feel heat flush my cheeks and a stupid tear threatens to fall, but I will it back. “Thanks,” I croak.

“Now, let’s tell Antony.”

I follow Jeri into the kitchen. The second he sees me, Antony smiles. “Bella.”

I swear to you. He’s never said that to me before. When he comes around the counter, I feel his arms wrap around me. He whispers in my ear, “My brother––a problema. In and out of prigione. Jail.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “We’re used to it. Rome should not be that judgy.”

I giggle at his use of judgy, but he’s right. Rome shouldn’t have judged me that way. The jerk. Ugh. I’m still mad at him. A little. Okay. Some.

The truth is, I miss him, and I’m mad at myself about that. It can’t be helped, though. I love the idiot.

“Come on, people. Let’s get set up. Tonight’s going to be fucking awful.”

“Antony?” Jeri yells. “What’s the special?”

“Veal marsala served with pasta.”

“No,” I gasp. When I look back at Antony, I swear to you, he winks at me. “FML.”

* * *

“You’ve just been double seated again.”

I sigh at the realization that maybe coming back was the wrong idea. “Fine.”

“I’ve got a lull. You take table sixteen, I’ll take seventeen.”

“Sure. Thanks, Jackie.” That’s what I said. Jackie has changed her tune. I can’t say I trust her all that much, but right now, I’ll take all the help I can get. Picking up a stack of menus, I make my way toward the front to drop them off at the hostess station. I glance at my new table and stop. “Rome?” He’s my new customer?

---