With Love, from Cold World(22)

“That’s not fair,” Lauren cut in. “I did my time. He should have to do his.”

Dolores lifted her perfectly arched brows. “And what did you have in mind?”

He could tell by the panicked look on Lauren’s face that she hadn’t thought this through. Just like he hadn’t, either. He’d been so focused on trying to get one up on Lauren, trying to shake her out of her comfort zone, that he hadn’t actually thought about what a bad idea it was. She didn’t deserve to be thrown into a role she’d never done before, forced to deal with entitled, belligerent dudebros. And he doubted there was much he could do to help her with her job, anyway. Math had never been his best subject.

“It’s fine,” he said. “We should probably focus on coming up with our actual proposals for updating Cold World. That will take more than enough time without adding extra job duties on top of everything.”

“And have you thought of anything?” Dolores asked, glancing at Lauren and then back at him. He could’ve sworn his boss looked almost . . . anxious. But that wasn’t possible. In the decade he’d known her, he’d never seen Dolores as anything less than unflappable.

“The Snow Globe,” Lauren said. “Is there any way to make it actually snow?”

“From the ceiling?” Dolores clarified, then shook her head. “We tried it. You remember.”

That last part was directed at Asa, and he pulled a face. He did remember. They were lucky to get an hour out of the overpriced machine Dolores had gotten talked into at some trade show, although it turned out an hour was more than enough. They’d never quite gotten the formula right for some reason, and the faux “snow” would come out as cold rain, or tiny hard pellets that stung a little, like someone was throwing ice chips at you.

“It was a disaster,” he said.

“That’s too bad,” Lauren said on a little sigh. “It would be really magical.”

Not ten minutes before, he’d had a handful of snow dribbling down his back. His shirt collar was still wet. Maybe that was why he felt the back of his neck break out in goose bumps.

“Let’s stick with our experiment for now,” Dolores said. “Lauren, think of something Asa could do to help you with the bookkeeping, get an idea for that side of the business. I trust that you can manage to avoid snowball fights in such a situation?”

“I can,” Asa said, and when Lauren rolled her eyes, he gave her his most beatific smile.

“Perfect,” Dolores said. “And Daniel will be in on Monday, and we’ll find things for him to do, too. Asa, do you think it would help for him to spend some time in the Snow Globe?”

Sure. By himself.

“Maybe,” he said.

“I actually have a projected budget,” Lauren said, “that I’d love to get his input on. And that would probably help as we think about ways to improve the business, too?”

Dolores beamed at Lauren like she’d just single-handedly solved world hunger. “Wonderful idea. Set that up for Monday.”

They were finally dismissed from Dolores’ office, and Lauren booked it out of there like she was afraid Dolores would decide there was some additional punishment if she stayed one second longer. Asa caught up to her in a few long strides, following her to her office.

“So now you have a budget meeting with Daniel?” he asked. “Don’t you think that’s something I should be invited to, if it’s going to be so helpful to us as we come up with our proposals?”

“I don’t see why,” she said, tapping on her keyboard to wake up her computer. “If you have any specific questions as you start working on your presentation, let me know.”

The implication was clear. She didn’t expect him to do any work on his own. He flashed back to the comment she’d made when he tried to convince her to work together, how she’d carried the weight of enough slackers in school.

There’d been enough truth in that to sting a little. Asa had never been the most diligent student—in high school, he’d been way more interested in navigating the social side of things. He’d had his first girlfriend at thirteen, his first boyfriend at fifteen, and then there’d been the whirlwind of keeping any relationship secret from his hyper-religious parents, because the only thing worse than premarital sex was premarital queer sex.

And then he’d been on his own two weeks before graduation. He’d technically still gotten the credits to get his diploma in the mail, but he hadn’t bothered to walk. There would’ve been nobody there to support him, anyway. It had never even occurred to him to go to college. With what money? And to do what?

Lauren had gone to college. He knew that because she had her diploma framed and leaning against a wall behind her desk. It was as if she meant to hang it but never got around to it, or maybe she was embarrassed to put it out front and center. The more he got to know Lauren, the more either explanation made a certain amount of sense.

“You did start it, you know,” he said.

He expected a denial, or maybe defensiveness. What he didn’t expect was for her to put her head in her hands and let out a low, guttural growl. A sound that shot immediately to his dick.

Well, that was unexpected.

“Ugh,” she said, her fingers curling in her hair. “I do know. I am so sorry. I have no idea what came over me—”