The smile she felt trying to curl her lips was so strong, so genuinely amused by this gorgeous jokester, this ... stupidly handsome man that she found herself biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing out loud. In what could only be described as a truce between her sane self and her desire to giggle like a debutante and kiss down the line of his jaw bone -- wait, what? where did that come from? -- she chuckled, tried to tuck her short hair behind her ear (a useless gesture), and nodded while staring at the floor. What the hell was wrong with her? Why did she feel like she was blushing? Probably because she was. Thank god for low lighting -- oh, wait, no. The lobby was perfectly lit, the sun was shining outside, he was far too close to her ... okay. Deep breath. Blinking up at him, she managed to find her voice, laughing out a somewhat restrained, "I was only asking because, you know, if you feel uncomfortable because I'm this over-dressed, you know ... I could always put on a ... bathmat." Damn it, Evan. Oh, well. Good-intentioned jokes usually led to awkward moments, so hell yeah she was happy to start toward the door. Better than being in the building. That lobby was sweltering, wasn't it? And really freezing, too. She'd talk to the super later. Ahem.
Out the door they went, after she'd half-mumbled a "thank you" for his chivalrous door opening. Outside, she felt better. Less ... trapped. Taking a deep breath, catching her back pockets with her thumbs and strolling along beside him, she found herself more at ease, even if by a small amount. Which was good. Very good. "So, Vince." Yes, that was his name. "How long have you lived at the Pax?" Had she asked him to coffee with nothing to talk about? Why, yes, she had. Well-played.