Lee looks lost. She's never in her life been in an office before, has only seen them in films or from the outside; her father owned his own business and her mother was a teacher, none of them worked anywhere like this, and Lee, well. Mostly she washes dishes or cleans toilets.
Not that you'd know, looking at her. If she looks like she just walked in off the streets of Chelsea, it's because that's what she did, more or less. She was at Michael's before because he has a working stove, but before that, yes, absolutely. She might as well be Brigitte Bardot, she has the same hair. She's in a copper lamé dress (it is very, scandalously short) with dark tights under and took her heavy winter coat off once she came indoors, but now she wishes she'd kept it on, it's a plain brown she feels would camouflage her a bit.
Not that a person who looks like Lee does can ever camouflage themself. She could wear a brown paper sack and people would stare at her on the street; resigning herself to this, Lee has made her look calculated. At least people look at what she wants them to look at.
There's a man she doesn't recognise (that is quite a beard), and she's standing there holding a brown paper sack and chewing on her lip, pigeon-toed, blinking at him. "I..." She clears her throat and starts to fidget. "I look for Michael. He is here?" She has an accent, but whatever it is is a mystery to Americans. She mostly tells them she's Serbian, they can never tell.