Page 62 of DadBod

“No,” he snaps.

I’m startled when I hear “Remake it.” Rome must’ve come in while I was pleading my case.

Antony starts to cuss in Italian, which I know means he’s going to do it. He’s not going to like it, but he’ll do it.

“He’s going to punish me for this.”

In a low voice, almost a whisper, Rome says, “If he does, let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

With too much to do to wait for the new pasta dish, I make my way back out to check on my tables. I feel a hand touch my forearm, causing me to look up at Monica. “I’ve got to give it to you.”

“What?” I know this is going to be bad.

“I didn’t think you could do it, but you somehow found your way into his pants. You’re fucking him.”

“Huh?”

“Rome. You’re fucking him.”

I shake my head like a crazy bobblehead doll. “No.”

“Yes. Why else would he be spending all his free time making sure Elizabeth is okay?” She says the last part in a super bitchy way.

“I’m not sleeping with him.” Or anyone. Sadly.

“You might as well admit it. Everyone knows.” She sniffs and marches away.

Everyone knows?“Don’t worry about her. She’s jealous.”

“Jeriann.” I roll my eyes. “She’s not.” She’s just an awful person.

“She is.”

I lean in to whisper to my friend. “Is it true? Does everyone think I’m… you know.” I use my head to gesture to the bar. “With Rome?”

“God.” She giggles. “If anyone heard you just now, they’d think you haven’t done it with anyone.” She snorts again. “Can you even say the word ‘fuck’?” She laughs again. “But, in answer to your question, yes, I think some people think you’re doing the nasty with dadbod, but that’s only because that C-U-N—”

I hold up my hand to stop her from finishing spelling that word.

“Because Monica’s been saying it.”

“Why?” I whine. I see one of the old men snapping again. At least from this distance, I can’t hear it. “I’ve got to go.” I turn back into the kitchen, hoping the softer pasta dish is ready. It is, but Antony’s expression tells me everything I need to know.

It’s gonna be a long night.

By the time the rush is over, I’m dead on my feet. With my closing work done, I sit at one of the front tables to wait for Jeriann to finish up so we can go home together. Pulling my tips out of my pocket, I start to count. It’s depressing. I was right about the high-maintenance table. They barely tipped me. Surprisingly, the table with the teen couple tipped 20 percent.

“How’d you do?” Jeriann takes the chair next to mine, pulling out her tips to count as well. She did much better than I did, and that was even after she took over for Rome. He left right after the dinner rush to pick his kids up from his sister’s. He still doesn’t trust Ryann to stay home alone and definitely doesn’t trust her to watch Cal, therefore, Ophelia has been nice enough to let them hang at her place while he works on the nights I’m not there.

“Not great.”

“At least you’ve got your nanny gig.”

“Yes.” That money has been a godsend. “Thank goodness.”

“You’ve been able to send some to your dad and brother?”

“I have. Dad keeps sending me thank-you text messages.” I smile at some of his notes. “He said he’s looking for a new job. One that will make him more money. He won’t need my help anymore.” I’m not going to hold my breath. Our little town holds grudges like nobody’s business. No one is going to hire a Duncan if they can help it. Luckily, my dad has had the same job for years, and they like him. Even after what happened, they kept him on. “I wish he’d move away from there, but it’s all he knows.”