Rome & Julie

Chapter 7

“Thank gosh that’s done,” I said, pretending to wipe sweat off my forehead.  Currently, Rome and I were exiting a mall, multiple bags on each of our arms.  I’d finally gotten Rome’s new wardrobe.  He wasn’t exactly willing, or even slightly thankful, but using my cunning and strength, I’d managed to convince him.  Next was getting Max, which Rome was putting off, most likely in hopes that I’d forget.  As if.

After a few days, Rome’s bruise faded and soon disappeared, and I was left with nothing else to laugh at Rome about.  He was procrastinating getting me my German Shepherd, and he absolutely refused to wear any of the clothes I’d picked out for him at the mall.

On our fifth day in the Caribbean, we were sitting at the grand dining table of our suite.  I was reading The Raven and Rome was on his laptop—doing business even though I’d begged him not to.  Somehow, we’d gotten on the subject of Pedro.

“I wouldn’t have even gotten a black eye if you weren’t flirting shamelessly with him.”  My mouth dropped open at Rome’s harsh words, and I slammed my book closed.

“And the only reason I flirt with other guys is because you’re so obsessed with your damn business!” I exclaimed, gesturing to his laptop.  Rome was silent a few moments, before his eyes softened.

“Julie, when you’re eighteen and start getting papers and emails and other shit from the other companies, you’ll understand.  Running a business isn’t a walk in the park.  I’m sorry I can’t be as devoted to you as you like, but otherwise the company would fall through the cracks.”  It was my turn to be quiet as I digested Rome’s words.  My cheeks burned at the thought of Rome being “devoted to me.”

“Don’t your parents still partially own the company?  Enough that they could take it away in a heartbeat?”  I asked, genuinely curious as to how an overbearing control freak like Mrs. Madden would ever admit that Rome was in some sort of control over her.

“Yes.  It’s very complicated and stupid, because I don’t really finance everything.  It’s my parents money, which somehow is also our company’s money, and—”

“You don’t have to explain it.  I was just saying that they could help out.”  The tension from moments before was softening, and finally we weren’t on a subject that could cause arguing.

After that conversation, Rome did put in an effort to pay attention to me, and I never saw his laptop again.  Of course, downstairs, where he slept on the couch, he could have gotten on it, but the thought that he didn’t want to work in front of me was sweet.

The vacation continued on, and really, no romantic progress had occurred in our relationship.  We still acted the same, we talked the same, and we felt the same.  No amount of vacations in the Caribbean could change that.  The Maddens just needed to realize that, and soon.  Otherwise, we were in for it.  Who knew what they had up their sleeves?

“Rome, today.  I’m putting my foot down, in effect; not letting you put it off,” I said on our next to last day in the Caribbean.  “Don’t try to talk your way out of it.  You said you were going to get him for me, and you will.”  Rome cowered behind a newspaper.  I leaned over in my chair to pull it down.  “Today,” I repeated, giving him my hardest look.

“Okay, okay.  Today, then, we’ll get your dog.”  I grinned, returning my attention back to my cereal bowl where I was eating breakfast.  Later that afternoon, I drug Rome from the beach to the street, where I’d called a taxi to pick us up and take us to a pet store.  And, to my great delight, I’d convinced Rome to put on a pair of the jeans I’d gotten him and a button up flannel shirt.  I’d rolled up the sleeves for him, so then, he looked like a normal twenty year old.  Well, a model-like twenty year old.