“But that’s what I mean,” Lauren said, pulling her shirt over her head. “You have people you can debate that kind of stuff with. Which version did you vote for?”
“I,” Kiki said, “do not care. Christmas music is annoying. It’s bad enough we have to listen to it at work. But also, Arlo Parks’ cover is the best and anyone who disagrees has no taste.”
Lauren shimmied out of her skirt. Generally, she agreed with Kiki about the music selection being particularly annoying this time of year. The music didn’t pipe into the office area, which was fortunate because she couldn’t take having to listen to “Wonderful Christmastime” on an endless loop. But she had to admit, she did like the original Wham! version of “Last Christmas.”
She switched out her underwear before sliding the red dress over her head. It was made out of a jersey knit, which did make it feel a little more casual at least. And because it was off-the-shoulder, it didn’t actually show any cleavage—just a lot of her shoulders and collarbones, the rose pendant necklace she always wore. The dress ended in a swingy skater skirt around her thighs. She opened the door to show Kiki.
“I feel like I should wear my tights,” Lauren said, glancing down.
“Absolutely the fuck not,” Kiki said. “It’s bad enough that you wear those to work every day. What is this, the 1950s?”
“It’s not a modesty thing,” Lauren said. Although maybe it was, a little. “I just get cold easily. Have you been in my office? I can’t even use a space heater because of that time the one in Dolores’ office caught fire.”
“Daniel’s gonna catch fire when he sees you in that,” Kiki said. “Seriously. You look hot.”
Lauren turned back to examine herself in the mirror. “I look overdressed.”
“You see what Dolores wears to work,” Kiki said. “Hell, you might be underdressed. But we’ll keep your hair down and loose, you barely need any makeup, and you can wear your same flats. That will all keep the look more chill.”
“Thank you so much for your help,” Lauren said. “I really appreciate it. I’m hopeless at this kind of thing.”
Kiki crossed behind her to reach for a few hair products on the counter. Lauren hadn’t spent much time hanging out the last time she’d come over, so she hadn’t fully clocked that Kiki had what was probably the main bedroom with the attached bathroom. She knew Kiki had moved in after Asa and Elliot, so maybe that was a nod to her being the only woman in the house. Lauren wondered where Asa’s bedroom was—on the other side of the house? What would it even look like?
“Asa doesn’t seem to like Daniel very much,” Lauren said.
Kiki snorted. “Yeah, I kinda got that impression when he told me about your date.”
“It’s not a date exactly,” Lauren felt compelled to remind her. Even if she’d been thinking of it that way in her head, she’d hate it getting back to Daniel somehow that she’d been going around calling it that. “What’s Asa’s problem with him? I thought Asa got along with most everyone.”
That was part of what was really bothering her about the whole scene in her office, she realized. Asa might be maddening and mischievous and wisecracking, but he was friendly to everyone. The exceptions to that were Daniel, who he seemed to barely tolerate.
And, lately, her.
“Don’t worry about Asa,” Kiki said, spritzing some volumizing spray into the palm of her hand before running it through Lauren’s hair. “He can’t exactly judge you if you want to date someone hot, have a little fun.”
Lauren frowned into the mirror. She hadn’t even necessarily been thinking about Asa judging her for her choices, but now she was. What had he said to her back in her office? That she was willing to sell out for the chance to date Daniel? That wasn’t true. She was helping him with his so far completely unrealistic idea only because it was part of her job, to analyze expenses and budgets for Cold World. And if she’d always found him attractive, and secretly crushed on him from afar, then why not use the opportunity to get to spend more time with him?
“Look,” Kiki said, apparently reading Lauren’s troubled expression in the mirror. “Asa is fickle. Not about his friends—he’s loyal to a fault. But in relationships? I don’t think I’ve known him to date someone for longer than two months. And it’s not like he has sterling judgment. He hooked up with one chick who stole money right out of his wallet. And the guy he dated last year kept talking about how brilliant American Psycho was. Talk about a huge red flag. So if he gives you any shit for wanting to be with Daniel, ignore him. I doubt Daniel’s read a book in his life, but at least he’s not an American Psycho stan.”
Lauren gave a halfhearted laugh. Kiki’s words should ease at least the worry that Asa had room to judge her for being shallow, or foolish, for treating this chance with Daniel as a real possibility. But they didn’t. If anything, they only made her feel more unsettled. That word fickle had wormed its way into her stomach and flipped over. She didn’t like the idea of Asa dating other people.
And Lauren found she really didn’t like the idea of these other people potentially treating him badly, stealing from him or being . . . whatever kind of asshole Kiki seemed to believe would love American Psycho.
Lauren’s longest relationship had ended just over two years ago, and he hadn’t been terrible. He just hadn’t been . . . the one, either. She honestly couldn’t remember who’d broken up with who, because it had felt so inevitable by the time they’d had the big conversation about it. Lauren had moved into the apartment she had now, applied at Cold World, and only dated a few people here and there in the years since.
She tried to think of the last time she’d had sex. There’d been a guy she’d seen more than once, and they’d gone back to his place after their third date. In the end, she couldn’t go through with it—it just hadn’t felt right, sleeping with someone she didn’t know that well yet. They’d made out a little and then she’d gone home. He’d never called her again, a fact which had piqued her on principle but not really broken her heart.
Not that she was going to have sex with Daniel tonight. God, the idea was absurd, Kiki’s “special underwear” advice or no.
“Do you like Daniel?” Lauren asked.
Kiki’s gaze slid away from hers. “I’m probably a bad person to ask,” she said. “I don’t like many men, my housemates excluded. But Daniel seems . . . fine. He owns his own condo, I think. That’s pretty cool.”
Lauren immediately thought of how much it was probably mortgaged, and how high the condo fees could be, but then shut down that train of thought. She didn’t know why she was like this—always looking for the negative side, always nitpicking things. She knew in her heart that Daniel probably wouldn’t give her the time of day if he didn’t want the report from her. It still wasn’t going to stop her from trying to just enjoy herself tonight.
Shit, the report. Lauren glanced at her watch and saw that it was close to Cold World’s closing time. She’d probably lost the opportunity to make any adjustments to her report for Daniel, but at least she should have time to print it if she left now.
“Again,” she said to Kiki. “Thank you so much for the makeover. I’m sorry I didn’t bring my contacts so we could get the full movie experience.”
Kiki waved her hand. “Laney Boggs looked hotter before, and I’ll die on that hill. And you pull off the red way better.”
That sounded like gibberish to Lauren, but she took it for the compliment it was. She folded up her old clothes, clutching them to her chest as she left, saying goodbye to Elliot and John, who was making cheese toast in the kitchen.
“If you hang out another fifteen minutes,” John said, “Asa should be home.”