We might want to sort this out. (Quinn)

[notmadeofglass]

A few months had passed since Tina's boyfriend decided to confess to not being who he had said he was while simultaneously insisting that his feelings (and their relationship) were real. She had decided to go on vacation, then came back to New York for a bit, then decided that going back to the villa in Tuscany just would be uncomfortable and awkward. Steve-Quinn was welcome to stay as long as he wanted, though. She was mad, not going to make someone homeless.

She'd simmered down considerably, though, and decided to attempt to figure out where things were with them. She had no expectations, though she was pretty sure no Italian hookers had been involved. She left a message with Steve-Quinn asking him to meet her at a restaurant in New York. She knew he was in the city. She'd checked the customs computers.

Comments

[notmadeofglass]

"You don't like Italian food. You like spaghetti and that's pretty much it. Which is kind of sad considering we lived in Italy," she reminds him. "Yeah. I'll go on a date or two with you, see how it plays out."

[i_can_hit_that]

"Spaghetti is Italian. It counts." he said.

"Where do you want to go?"

[notmadeofglass]

"Oh planning this date thing is your responsibility, sir. You're on your own for this."

[i_can_hit_that]

"Hey, wait a second! How can I do something you like if I don't know what you want?" Quinn asked.

"Give me a clue?"

[notmadeofglass]

"If you don't have some clue of what I like after living with me for almost a year then I don't know that even God could help you."

[i_can_hit_that]

"Don't worry. I've got a some ideas. Tomorrow night, seven o'clock." he said.