He smoked five more cigarettes and mooched another beer off someone else before the first hour was up. I checked my watch and made polite conversation. An hour and fifteen minutes. An hour and a half. Still no sign of him wrapping things up. Time for a nudge.

“Dominic.” I tapped my wrist.

He nodded at me, held up his index finger in the Just-One-More-Minute position and resumed talking. For another half hour.

Granted, I was tired, I was cranky and, now, I was hungry, too. I may not have been in the cheeriest of moods starting off, but that didn’t mean he could worm out of a promise, so I said, “Dominic, it’s been two hours.”

“Okay, okay. Just five more minutes. Please. Let me finish this thought.”

I picked up my purse, waved goodbye to the guys and walked out the door.

I heard a “Shit!” from inside the bar and, a moment later, Dominic was by my side looking furious.

“Dammit, Ellie, that was so fucking rude!”

“You said one hour. I waited twice that long. I’ve had enough now, and I’m going home. Come. Don’t come.” I shrugged. “It’s your choice.”

“I — ” Dominic looked between me and the door to The Bitter Tap, clearly considering. “Look, sorry. I just…I just really love being in that environment, and I’m…surprised, I guess, that you don’t, too.” He gave me a hurt look. “Those guys are my best friends.”

I nodded. “Well, perhaps one of them can give you a lift home.” I turned and walked toward my car.

“Ellie. Wait.” He ran up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder, caressing it with his fingertips. “Let’s get a slice of pizza for the road. It’s just right here.” He pointed to the Italian carryout joint next door. “I know you’ve gotta be starving.”

Not wanting to make a huge scene on the sidewalk, I agreed and, of course, I knew that also meant I had to spring for the food. It may have taken me almost two months of dating this cretin, but I was starting to see a pattern here.