“Maybe it’s the name?” Lauren asked tentatively. “Sometimes on the phone people think I’m saying Cold War.”
Asa snorted, and she glared at him.
“It’s time we do something,” Dolores continued, as if she didn’t hear the question. “We need a new exhibit, new decor, new promotion, something to get people excited about coming here again. I know we can’t do much for this holiday season, but I’d like to have an idea by the new year so we can work on getting it implemented for next season. That’s where you come in.”
She looked at each of them in turn, like she was about to unveil the biggest, most exciting news. Asa loved his boss, but she had such a flair for the dramatic.
“I want you to come up with an idea—everything from the design to the budget to how you expect it to improve Cold World’s ticket sales—and present it to me at a meeting after Christmas. I’ve selected you because, Daniel, you’re leadership”—hilarious, because Daniel was rarely on-site to lead anybody—“Lauren, you know more than anyone here about the money side of things, and Asa, you’ve been here the longest of any employee and know this place backward and front.”
That was true, at least. Asa had thought about quitting Cold World several times, mostly when his yearly rent increase hit and he thought about how maybe it was time to level up, find a job that came with a competitive benefits package. Or when he was on a first date and felt a sinking dread at the inevitable So what do you do? question, knowing that whatever was expected of a twenty-eight-year-old man, it wasn’t . . . still working at a novelty winter attraction. The problem was that Cold World was so comfortable. He felt like it needed him. And weirder, he felt like he needed it.
“You can work together, or separately. It doesn’t matter to me. One really good idea is better than three half-baked ones, but there’s also something to be said for choice. Track any hours you spend on the project outside of work, and put it in for overtime.”
Asa could feel Daniel perk up next to him. Lauren must’ve felt it, too, because she got a little frown line between her eyes. “Aren’t you exempt?”
Asa had to hold his hand over his mouth, as if he were deep in thought, to hide his smirk. He couldn’t deny that—when it wasn’t aimed at him—Lauren’s processing chip of a brain could be pretty funny.
“I thought you didn’t do payroll,” Daniel muttered petulantly.
“We’ll work it out,” Dolores cut in, clearly losing interest now that she’d said her piece. “If you have any questions, find me.”
And with that, she spun around, her full skirt printed with little teal flamingos swaying as she walked away. The three of them stayed on the bench for a moment, as though they were all too shell-shocked to move. Then, just as Asa was about to speak, Daniel turned to Lauren.
“I think we should work together,” he said, giving her a smile that he probably practiced in the mirror when he was rehearsing charming. “I’m a big-ideas kind of guy, but you, you’re—”
“Detail-oriented?” Lauren said.
He snapped, pointing at her. “Exactly.”
She seemed pleased by the compliment, which was a joke because she’d essentially given it to herself. Asa thought about inserting himself into the conversation, to remind them that there was another person in this little game, but he could also think of nothing he wanted to do less than work side-by-side with Daniel Alvarez. Even working with Lauren would be better than that. Anyway, there was no way she was falling for this shit. Daniel clearly just wanted someone to shovel all the work onto.
But maybe Asa underestimated the situation, because suddenly Daniel was staring at Lauren like she was his phone. “You free tonight?” he asked. “We could discuss over dinner.”
Had Daniel just asked Lauren out?
From her expression, yes. Suddenly, it was like she believed in Christmas after all. Her whole face lit up, her eyes shining even as her mouth started to lift in a smile . . .
And then dropped as she bit her lip. “I can’t tonight,” she said. “I have something. Maybe tomorrow?”
Daniel lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “I’ll be thinking up a few ideas to pitch,” he said. “If I need your help with the numbers on any of them, I’ll let you know.”
Daniel stood and, without a backward glance, started toward the door, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pressing it to his ear as he disappeared through the front lobby. Asa bet he was calling in a takeout order.