Page 82 of DadBod

“Hey, Rome?” I ask, attempting to change the subject, but he holds up a finger to get me to stop.

“Seriously, Ry. I’m sick and tired—”

“Hey, Rome.” My voice is louder than usual. “Did you see Hamilton is coming to Chicago?” It’ll be showing at the theater right around the block from When in Rome, which means we’re going to be swamped for two weeks straight.

“What?” He just snapped at me, and I don’t like it.

“Please don’t raise your voice to me. I’m merely trying to ask you a question.”

“Sorry.” He sounds remorseful. “What’d you say?” A little bit, anyway.

I choose not to repeat the thing about Hamilton. “Would it be okay if we stopped by Target on the way back to my place? I need to grab something.”

“Sure.” He’s not looking at me. His focus is still on his daughter. “You listening to me, Ryann?”

“Rome?”

“What?” he snaps at me again, and this time, it pisses me off.

“I asked you not to raise your voice at me and you did it anyway.” Sliding off the stool, I pick up my purse and head to the door.

“Elizabeth?” Rome says from his usual spot in the kitchen. I half expect him to apologize, but instead, he says, “Where are you going?”

“Home.” And I’m out the door before I can really let the jerk have it.

I’m about half a block from his house, when his fancy car pulls up next to me and stops. I watch his window open slowly. “Elizabeth…”

Walking around the car, I slip into the seat next to him. “A.” I hold up one finger. “I’m tired of you talking to me like you’re the boss all the time. You’re not.” A second finger goes up. “Two. You need to read the room.”

“Read the room?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, I add, “I was trying to get you to stop bitching at your daughter. A daughter who has cramps because she just started her period.”

“Huh?” Rome’s mouth is opening and closing. “Her period?” Flushing, he runs a hand over his face. “She’s only fourteen. That’s too young.”

“No. That’s sort of late. A lot of girls start much earlier. She doesn’t feel good, she’s scared, and no doubt, she’s upset her mom isn’t here to help her out. Lay off.”

“You should have told me.”

“It wasn’t my place. You should have looked at me to see I was trying to get you to move on to something else.”

“Why wouldn’t she just tell me?”

Men are clueless sometimes. “That’s not something you want to talk about with your dad.”

“She asked you?”

“Yes and no. I offered to call Phee for her.” I’m happy she wanted to talk to me, but I’m not dumb. This thing between Ryann and me isn’t changing anytime soon no matter how much I’d like it to. “I was serious. I need for you to stop at Target. She needs pads.”

“Okay.” And that’s all he says for the rest of the ride home.

At my apartment, Rome does the same thing as before: he follows me to my door. When I reach for the handle and pull, I’m surprised the door doesn’t budge. Reaching for my keys, I slip into the lock and turn until it clicks open. “Wow. They fixed the lock.”

“How ’bout that.”

Looking up at Rome, I can’t read his expression, but something tells me he had something to do with it. “Did you threaten to kill the building manager or something?”

“No.” Rome slides his hands into his jean pockets. “I went to school with a guy who works in the mayor’s office. I may have made a call.”

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