“You seem happy,” Cheryl said as Nicolette came bouncing down the aisle to her cubicle, her energy almost contagious.
Nicolette glanced around to make sure Sam wasn’t there yet before flashing Cheryl a wide grin. “I got laid,” she said, her voice practically glowing with cheer. “No emotional baggage. No romantic drama. No stress over future complications. Just fulfilling, raw, carnal satisfaction.”
Cheryl raised an eyebrow, her skepticism barely concealed. “With your roommate?”
“Yes,” Nicolette replied simply as she switched on her computer, completely unapologetic.
“What’s up, Red? You look a little… well, red,” Nicolette said, glancing at Lucy, who was nervously shifting in her seat.
Lucy shook her head quickly, her face a shade deeper than usual. “Sorry, just… mental image.”
Nicolette snorted, amused by the shy half-elf’s reaction.
“Morning, Sam,” Cheryl said as Sam made his way down the aisle. The usual greetings were exchanged as he passed, his heavy steps fading toward the back of the office. Both Nicolette and Lucy subtly held their breath until his after-scent dissipated.
“Hey,” Lucy said softly, leaning halfway into the aisle, her voice barely above a whisper.
Nicolette mirrored the gesture, leaning toward her. “What’s up?” she whispered back.
Lucy hesitated for a moment before speaking. “That’s pretty cool—getting laid without all the relationship stuff, I mean. I’m… well, I’m kind of weird. Relationships never work out for me.”
Nicolette gave Lucy a warm smile and a nod as they both retreated back into their cubicles. She watched the little redheaded half-elf for a moment, unsure of what to make of her comment. It was one of the strangest things Lucy had ever said, but it was also the most personal insight Nicolette had gotten from her.
Shaking her head, Nicolette turned back to her computer and settled into her work, her thoughts lingering on the unexpected glimpse into Lucy’s world.
***
"Hey," Jake said as he set down a five-gallon bucket on the kitchen floor.
Nicolette glanced up just long enough to see him pulling out batteries to charge, then returned her attention to her phone. “Hey,” she replied distractedly, shifting uncomfortably and frowning as she poked at the screen.
“Something wrong?” Jake asked, noting her frustration.
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“I’m trying to draft a contract for our joint effort in buying this house and, uh, dealing with my upcoming cycle,” Nicolette said, her tone exasperated.
“Which LLM are you using?”
Nicolette knit her brows in confusion, her expression answering the question for her.
“You’re writing it yourself?” Jake asked, his tone laced with amusement.
“Yeeaaah,” Nicolette said, drawing the word out defensively.
“Search for a Large Language Model. A free version should be good enough for a contract. Just tell it what you want and give it the necessary details.”
Nicolette followed his suggestion while Jake disappeared into the bathroom for a shower. The modeling software spit out something that looked more like a real contract, but it was riddled with weird clauses and muddled explanations. “This isn’t working right,” she muttered, frustration dripping from her voice.
Jake emerged from the bathroom, torso still damp and smelling of cheap soap. He leaned over her shoulder, frowning as he scanned the document. “Are you combining the business contract with the personal one?”
The realization hit Nicolette like a ton of bricks, and her face crinkled with annoyance. Jake laughed, clearly amused. A few minutes later, she found him sitting on the old, broken couch, scrolling through his phone. Since he had claimed the only spot on the couch worth sitting on, Nicolette dragged a kitchen chair into the living room.
“Wanna look this over?” she asked, holding up her phone.
“Sure. Just send me a link."
Nicolette shared the document and gave him commenting permission. “Thanks for letting me know about the LLM thing.”
“Yeah, it makes basic documents a lot easier,” Jake replied.
Comments in highlighted yellow began appearing in her document almost immediately. Jake clearly knew what he was doing, pointing out missing clauses and potential flaws. One comment made her pause: "What happens to the money one of us puts in if we die?"
Death hadn’t even crossed Nicolette’s mind. While Jake continued adding comments elsewhere, she drafted a clause specifying that in the event of her death, her initial investment would go to her brother upon the property’s sale. She left room for Jake’s input but furrowed her brow when she saw his comment next to the space:
You can have it.
For several minutes, Nicolette just stared at those four words, an uneasy feeling forming in her chest similar to acid reflux. “Um, you’re not on good terms with your parents?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light, almost joking, though it sounded strained even to her.
A nostalgic smile crossed Jake’s lips, only to twist into something bitter. “My dad died two years ago. Cancer.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Nicolette said softly.
“Dad always said Mom died when I was young, but there’s enough evidence to suggest she just left us. I’ve got a half-sister somewhere, but I’ve only spoken to her twice.”
Jake didn’t look up from his phone as he spoke, still scrolling through the contract. Nicolette felt the acid-like feeling in her chest sink into her stomach, forming a heavy stone. She had known Jake didn’t have much, but she hadn’t realized the extent of it. At least she had her brother. Her relationship with her mother was rocky, but she would never be denied a couch to sleep on if it came to that.
Jake moved on to the relationship contract but had little to say. Nicolette had gone out of her way to ensure everything was clear, with explicit consent for any arrangements between them, avoiding anything that could cross into romantic territory.
“Looks fine to me,” Jake said finally, getting up and heading to the kitchen.
Nicolette gave the contracts one last review before getting ready for bed, her mind still lingering on their conversation.