Dating-ish (Knitting in the City #6)(52)

"Meaning?" I'd picked up this peculiarity of speech he had. Instead of asking, What do you mean? He would frequently just say, Meaning?

"Over the course of my adulthood-and childhood, for that matter-everyday conversations frequently sound like Greek."

That had me wrinkling my nose at him. "What are you talking about? You have no problem communicating with me."

One of the sales associates approached us. "Hi there, are you finding everything you need?"

Her gaze moved over Matt appreciatively and then to me, her eyebrows hitching on her forehead; if I was reading her expression correctly, it communicated, Your boyfriend is hot.

"Marie?" he deferred, clearly oblivious to the pretty woman's appreciation.

"I think so, but could you start a room for him?"

"No problem." She reached forward to grab our current selections. Actually, they were my selections. Matt hadn't touched anything but me since we'd entered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'm looking forward to this fashion show," she said, and then winked at me.

I couldn't help my grin. She was being so adorably obvious, and it made me feel like she was giving me a mental high five, a la, You go, girl!

"That's because you don't seem to mind my questions," Matt said once she left, picking our conversation right back up as he considered the suit next to him on a mannequin. "Are we getting suits here?"

That stopped me in my tracks. "Do you want a suit?"

He scrutinized me like my question was a test. "I don't know. Do I?"

"I guess we could get you a suit, if you think you'll use it." I contemplated the mannequin, touching the fabric of the three-piece with my fingertips. "This is fine."

"Fine?" He glanced between me and the suit. "Is fine good?"

I shrugged. "Or we could go someplace less expensive. It depends on what you want to use it for."

Matt stared at me, analyzing my features attentively. "See? It's like you're speaking a different language."

I laughed. "Okay. What are you going to use it for?"

"You haven't given me enough information in order to make a decision. I need more data."

I laughed again. "You have several different categories of suits, depending on the needs of the person. If you're using it to go to a funeral or twice a year for weddings, or something like that, then you probably don't need a very expensive suit. If that's the case, we should go someplace cheaper."

"What's the downside? Of a less expensive suit?"

"They don't look as nice and they're not usually great quality, which means they wear out faster."



       
         
       
        

"But this suit," he gestured to the one next to us, "will look better and last longer?"

"Yes. This is a medium-quality suit."

"Where can one acquire a high-quality suit?"

"Um . . ." I glanced to the right, trying to remember where Janie said Quinn bought his suits. "There's a designer in Chicago, Daniel George, who will hand-make a suit, or even shirts, using fabrics and a cut specifically chosen for you."

"It's literally tailor-made."

"Correct."

"And it'll look the best?"

"And last for a long time, yes. But it'll cost a lot. Like, a lot a lot."

He gave me a flat, teasing smile. "For a writer, you sure do use the big words."

I rolled my eyes, turning from him. "Fine. The expenditure will be exorbitant."

He came up behind me, peering over my shoulder as I thumbed through a rack of dress pants. "Is there any place like that? For women?"

"Not really. I mean, you can get custom clothing made, but most women don't."

"Because it's expensive?"

"That, and because there's already so much to choose from ready-made that runs the gamut of inexpensive to upscale."

"Where do you shop? For yourself?"

"The only thing I ever pay retail for is yarn."

He paused, like he was trying to untangle a puzzle. "Meaning?"

"I usually shop consignment. I like it because a) it's a lot cheaper, and b) consignment shops have a bunch of brands rather than just one, so it's like going to multiple stores at once."

He paused again, considering this information, then said, "Huh."

I looked at him because the way he said huh was peculiar. "What?"

"Your methods are efficient." He was smiling at me, giving me the sense that he very much approved of my methods. My efficient methods.



Watching Matt try on clothes was a ridiculous amount of fun.