“You’re the one fixated on my tattoos,” he said, looking down at his arms in bemusement. “And that can’t be what you were actually about to say.”
“No, I was going to say could you please shut up.” Lauren knew she was being rude, but she felt oddly unhinged by everything that had happened with Daniel, the whirlwind of hearing his bonkers proposal, then wangling an invite to his mother’s big dinner. She couldn’t decide if she was mortified or nervous or excited about the latter thing, and she felt like she couldn’t think as long as Asa kept talking. “None of this is your business, okay? Whatever report Daniel wants or what I’d do for a date with him or why I want to go to this dinner. None of it has anything to do with you, and I don’t understand why you keep coming around. So I’m saying could you please just . . . stop.”
This whole time, she’d thought of his eyes as being blue. Maybe that was because of the hair, some effect where it made them appear blue from farther away. But now that they were standing so close to each other, face-to-face in her small office, she saw they were a smoky color closer to gray.
She also thought he’d always disliked her. Since the cancel Secret Santa incident, definitely after the horrible mistletoe kiss debacle, and maybe especially after their recent rivalry around this stupid contest or whatever it was. But she realized she’d never quite seen his eyes look that cold, his jaw that set in anger. Maybe he hadn’t always disliked her, but he sure as hell did now.
“Consider me stopped,” he said, setting the legal pad down on her desk next to her own where she kept her task list. “Have fun tonight.”
Her throat felt tight, and she couldn’t have replied even if she wanted to. But maybe that was for the best. She wished she could rewind and start the whole day over, apologize to Asa in the break room for snapping at him yesterday, find a way to avoid snapping at him again.
His notepad wasn’t completely blank. There was an illustration up in the top corner, little circles of snow, a few larger snowflakes, and the start of a girl’s profile turned up toward the falling snow. There wasn’t much to it, but it still kicked her in the stomach.
She should go after Asa. She should get started on the report for Daniel. She was caught in between, so instead she just dropped her head to her desk and tried to take deep breaths. The worst of it was, she didn’t even have a single clue how to make Cold World better. She just knew it seemed like, every day she showed up at work, she was making it incrementally worse.
* * *
? ? ?
When Kiki knocked on her office door just after six o’clock, it was clear from her tentative greeting that she must’ve been filled in on at least some of what happened from Asa.
“You’re here late,” she said.
“I’m trying to run this analysis,” Lauren said, wiping her hand down her face. “But honestly, none of the numbers are making sense anymore.”
The issue was that the underlying proposition made no sense. It was like trying to solve a word problem that had been written by someone with no knowledge of what concept they were trying to teach. She had spent an hour researching issues with fake snow production on such a mass scale, which had been quite informative but not particularly helpful for finalizing a report that Daniel would want to show Dolores.
“Asa mentioned something about a date?”
Lauren had to restrain herself from asking exactly what Asa had said, and how long ago, and in what tone. But she knew that if she and Asa were going to be in an all-out war, Kiki would have to take his side. She lived with him. She knew him way better. Lauren didn’t think she had it in her to lose her only friend at work as the cherry on top of the sundae of this horrible day.
“Not a date exactly,” she said. “But Daniel did invite me to have dinner with his family tonight.”
“Still exciting!” Kiki said. “Want to come over, borrow that red dress? I decided to go with the jumpsuit for Marj’s thing like you suggested. If I’m showing up on a woman’s arm, I’m going to go full throttle.”
He’d said casual. The red dress definitely said date more than it said business meeting.
“If it was fancy enough to be a contender for Marj’s holiday party, it’s definitely too much for this,” she said. “I’d look ridiculous.”
Kiki shook her head. “You’ll look sexy, promise. Stop by your place first, and see if you have a strapless bra you could wear. Preferably not one of those scary bridesmaid ones. Even better if it’s part of a matching set.”
“I’m going to dinner at his mother’s house,” Lauren said. “Who just happens to be my boss. There is no need for special underwear.”
Kiki waggled her eyebrows. “That’s the beauty of special underwear,” she said. “You never know when it will be called into service.”
Maybe in Kiki’s life—not in Lauren’s. But she found herself considering it all the same. She already had at least a workup of a report for Daniel, projecting maintenance costs for a winter sports complex like the one he envisioned. She could run home, spend an hour or so at Kiki’s house, then come back to Cold World in time to add any finishing touches and print it out. The offices were normally closed after five, but as long as the main building was open to the public, she’d be able to get back in. And she already knew that Asa was working the closing shift, so she wouldn’t have to worry about running into him at his house.
She logged out of her computer and gathered up her stuff. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
* * *
? ? ?
It was closer to forty-five minutes, which she hoped wasn’t rude after Kiki had been kind enough to offer to help her get ready. But it had taken longer than she’d expected to locate her black lace strapless bra, and underwear that was at least also black, if not an exact match. She still thought it was a bit silly to put that much care into items of clothing that Daniel would never see, but Kiki also seemed much better at this kind of thing, so Lauren figured she’d trust whatever she said. Maybe sexy underwear beneath her clothes would give her more outer confidence. Worth a try.
Before she’d left Cold World, she’d seen Asa briefly. He’d been walking with Marcus, explaining something that involved a lot of hand gestures. His gaze had slid to hers, so quickly his head didn’t even move, and then they’d walked right by. She wished she had slow-motion footage of the moment, just so she could see how he might feel toward her. Still angry? Disgusted? Or completely indifferent?
“Come in, come in,” Kiki said now, ushering her inside their house. Elliot was seated at the dining room table, typing on a laptop, and they lifted a hand in greeting.
“Hi, Lauren,” they said. If they felt any lingering weirdness over the way she’d left the beach outing, they didn’t show it.
“Hey,” she said. “What are you working on?”
“An analysis of every Carly Rae Jepsen song in order of worst to best,” they said. “Worst being relative, of course.”
“Hard-hitting journalism,” Kiki said, and then held up her hand when Elliot seemed primed to launch into an argument. “You know I’ll read it and enumerate every ranking you got wrong. But my girl’s on a timetable right now, and we need to get down to business. Lauren, follow me.”
The red dress was hanging up from the doorframe to Kiki’s en suite bathroom, and Kiki pulled it down and shooed Lauren in to get changed.
Closed inside the bathroom, Lauren started unbuttoning her sweater. “It must be really fun to live here,” she called through the door. “Just because of all the conversations you get to have.”
“I guess,” Kiki said. “This Carly Rae thing started because Elliot said her version of ‘Last Christmas’ was the best one, which Asa took as sacrilege because he’s a Wham! purist. John tried to make a case for Jimmy Eat World, but if he has to lean on phrases like guitar tone he has to know he’s already lost.”