Dating-ish (Knitting in the City #6)(36)

I'd decided over the weekend that if Professor Matt Simmons was interested in being my friend, I was going to make an effort to make the friendship happen. Because Matt, despite the short time we'd spent together, had made me more playful. 

And braver.

Shaking my head at the weirdo, I typed my response.



Marie: I do have questions. I've got knitting tonight. How about tomorrow? We can meet for coffee or I can cook dinner.



Even though I'd taken copious notes during our meeting, I was having trouble interpreting the documents he'd given me, so his offer to help was a relief. It would also give me the opportunity to propose friendship.

Since I was on a strict budget, eating out wasn't an option. Plus, I had a recipe for coconut curry that would have been silly to make for just one person.

He replied almost immediately.



Matt: YOU COOK

Matt: Sorry for my all-caps exuberance. I'm really looking forward to your food.

Matt: I mean, answering your questions.

Matt: And your food.



I chuckled, tapping out the address to my apartment as I entered the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse level. I had to juggle the dip I'd made, holding it against the wall with my hip so I could slip my phone back into my bag. It was Janie's turn to host, but with her feeling so wretched these days, the rest of us decided to make and bring the food.

When the elevator doors opened, I moved to leave but took a startled step back, almost colliding with Quinn's business partner, Dan O'Malley.

Dan and I had been through a lot together, especially this last year. He, Quinn, and I had bonded while on a trip in the spring to Nigeria to help Greg and Fiona out of a bind. Working toward a common goal in close quarters. I was thankful to have these great guys in my life, proving that great guys existed.

"Gah." I wobbled, trying to regain my balance.

He reached out to steady me, his beefy hands gripping my shoulders. "You okay there?"

"Yes." I laughed at my clumsiness and sighed. "Long day. Sorry."

"No problem." Once he was sure I was stable, he released me and stepped back, motioning for me to exit the elevator. "You're the last to arrive."

"I figured as much." Frowning, I glanced at the door leading to Janie and Quinn's place. "How's she doing? Any better?"

He shook his head wearily, rubbing the back of his neck where swirling tattoos peaked out from the collar of his shirt. His mouth formed a tired line. "I can't wait until that baby is out. Quinn's been a real sonofabitch-excuse my language-for the last five months."

"Sorry." I gave him a sympathetic smile. The typically even-tempered Bostonian seemed exceptionally irritable this evening.

"It's fine." He waved me off as he stepped onto the elevator and punched a button. "All I'm saying is, they better name it after me."

Giving him one last departing wave, I turned and strolled down the hall, knocking on Janie's door with my free hand. A few seconds later, Kat opened the door, her gaze wide and expectant. But as soon as she saw me, her expression faltered.

"Oh. Hi, Marie." She sounded a shade disappointed.

I tried not to take it personally. "Who were you expecting?"

She brightened her smile, waving me forward. "You, of course. Come in." Taking the dip from my hands, she walked toward the kitchen, calling ahead of her, "Marie brought dip."

"Yay for dip," came Sandra's excited reply.

Leaving my purse by the door, I grabbed my knitting bag and headed for the family room, happy to see all my friends' smiling faces as soon as I entered. Even Janie was smiling.



       
         
       
        

"Marie. Goddess of the dip," Ashley's voice called from a laptop sitting on a side table. "You'll need to send me the recipe."

"I will," I promised.

"Hey, Marie." Nico-aka Nicoletta-smiled his greeting. He couldn't stand up as his wife was sitting on his lap, as was their way.

"Hey. I didn't think you were going to be here."

Kat emerged from the kitchen holding two cocktail glasses and handed me one. "For you, my dear."

"Thank you."

"Okay, now that everyone is here, I have a question." Sandra held her hands up in front of her and asked the room, "Do y'all think the word 'Nazi' is offensive?"

Kat took a seat on the sofa, casting Sandra a cautious glance. "What do you mean? In what context?"

"Like saying someone is a grammar-Nazi?"

"I can't speak for all Jewish people, because-you know-we're all individuals with our own opinions, experiences, outlooks, and whatnot, but, it doesn't bother me that much." Kat paused, twisting her mouth to the side for a beat. "However, I know for a fact it does bother my father. A lot. And his friends."