She was familiar with the apartments the theater retained for housing out-of-town talent. She hopped in her Mini, blasted the radio, and headed there. She rode the elevator to the fourth floor of the building, stared down the number 406 that matched the paperwork she had on Carly, and knocked three times with maybe a little extra force. No one answered. Wonderful. She knocked again, this time vigorously, and when that didn’t work, she knocked with her key to the theater, generating a much louder, grating sound.
“What the hell?” Carly said, swinging the door open, bleary-eyed. She stared at Lauren, then craned her head around the corner and stared down the hallway. Then back to Lauren.
“Carly, you’re an hour late to rehearsal, and that’s if we were teleported to The McAllister right this moment.”
More blinking. Carly ran her hand through her hair, which was tousled, but in that shampoo commercial way that only certain people—people who were not Lauren—could pull off. When she opened the door more fully, Lauren took in her whole outfit. A tank top and what appeared to be a baby-blue thong. She looked away from the expanse of skin available to her gaze.
“Fuck. I didn’t mean to oversleep.” She glanced behind her for answers, flashing a bare cheek at Lauren. “I was up late and probably didn’t set an alarm.”
“Probably?” Lauren asked and turned back to Carly, because thong or not, this irresponsibility at work was unacceptable.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. Let me get myself together.” Lauren nodded and folded her arms. “What? You’re just going to stand there? Is your plan to escort me?”
“I thought we’d ride over together, yeah.” Damn right she was going to escort her. She was not walking back into that rehearsal hall with word that Carly would be there soon, while they all watched the door and crossed their fingers.
“Lauren,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “I’m a successful adult. You don’t have to babysit me.”
“Apparently, I do.”
“Fine,” she said coolly. Carly let the door fall open as she headed back inside. “Then do so inside. Less weird that way. Plus, it might help you relax.”
Lauren followed quickly behind Carly, hostility flaring. “Please don’t insinuate that I need to relax. That’s rude. I arrived on time for my job. You’re the one who kept twenty people waiting and made both of us look bad.”
“I said it was a mistake.” Carly raised a shoulder as if to telegraph this was no big deal and they should move on. “Why can’t you understand that things happen.”
“To just you? Because everyone else made a point to arrive on time, prepared. I think we all deal with alarm clocks. We all have the same traffic to battle. Hell, this apartment is ten minutes from the theater.”
“I’ll be early tomorrow. How’s that? I’ll add a little investment to your time management bank account, because you’re clearly keeping track. Doesn’t clock-watching get boring?”
“That’s not enough.”
“Fine. What is it that you want from me? Why don’t you just spell it out and save us time? Because I’m starting to feel like it’s my head on a platter.”
“That’s not at all what I want.” Lauren clasped her fingers in front of her to keep her tone calm, reined in. That had never been difficult before. Why was she struggling? “You have to make changes to not just your punctuality, but your approach to life. At the very least, to your work.”
Carly stared at her with fire in her eyes. The anger turned them a deeper shade of blue. Yep, she’d finally upset Carly. “Oh, I need to change the way I approach my work? Because I haven’t achieved any kind of status in a cutthroat town like LA. Got it. Thank you so much for your unsolicited wisdom from…where are we again?” She looked around. “God, it’s good you’re here now to steer me back onto the right path.”
“Well, if I wasn’t, you’d still be asleep. So there’s that.”
Silence hit. “It was an accident,” Carly said, biting off each word before disappearing into the bedroom in a beautiful flutter of anger.
Lauren stifled an eye roll and stepped inside Carly’s apartment, as she’d left the door ajar for her. Wow, okay. Once inside, she took note of the fact that the space was definitely a lot neater than Lauren would have predicted, given hurricane Carly. The entirely gray and white kitchen and modern living room both gleamed. The granite countertops sparkled. No clothing