“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 bombs or pizza boxes to be seen. Everything appeared neat, tidy, and organized. Carly Daniel, who wasn’t capable of organizing her life if it killed her, was neat? No. Who was this person? That’s when it hit her. Carly was capable. She just had to care enough. “All right. I see how it is.”

“Did you say something?” Carly called from in the bedroom.

“Nothing important,” Lauren called back.