Perfect for You

to her flat, the middle unit of a beautifully restored gingerbread Victorian in Laurel Heights.
    Well, okay, Baja Laurel Heights—close enough to the swanky multimillion-dollar houses to rub off a little glamour but far enough on the periphery that her mortgage was affordable. Of course, she'd bought it before the dotcom boom; what she paid was more reasonable than what most people forked out in the city.
    She absolutely loved her flat. It wasn't the nicest of the three condos in the building; the top one was amazing and had a better view. But it was all hers and no one could take it away.
    Unless she lost her job.
    Not going to happen. She'd get her life back on track if it killed her. The first step: placing the ad on craigslist. This evening.
    Determined, she strode to the middle door. The door on her right led to the downstairs flat. The one on the left led upstairs to Cavanaugh's unit, otherwise known as the seventh circle of hell. She made a face at his door and let herself into her home.
    At the top of the landing, she heard rustling. Heart thumping, she craned her neck but couldn't see anyone.
    Then she heard a discordant singing she knew well. Anna, her sister.
    Not knowing whether to be irritated or relieved, she followed the racket her sister was making into the kitchen. Sure enough, Anna's bony butt stuck out of the fridge. Why was she surprised? Anna spent more time here than in Berkeley, where she lived and went to college.
    Freya dropped her purse on the kitchen table, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction when her sister jerked and hit her head on the refrigerator shelf. "What are you doing here?"
    Anna rubbed her scalp. "Foraging. Duh."
    "I don't know what I was thinking when I gave you a spare key."
    "You were thinking, ÔGosh, I love that sister of mine. I wish she hung around more.' Do you have any more of that white cheddar?"
    "Most people do their grocery shopping at Safeway."
    "Most people aren't poor college students like me."
    Freya shook her head. "It's behind the eggs."
    "Oh. Thanks."
    "I'm going to change. Make yourself at home," she said knowing her sarcasm would be lost on her sister.
    In her bedroom, she undressed and put on a pair of broken-in fleecy pajamas, but she paused when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
    The pjs were faded and dull. And they had a saggy butt.
    Eve was right—she needed to reclaim herself. Old Freya wouldn't have been caught dead with a saggy butt. She stripped, tossed the pajamas in the trash, and slipped into a silky black robe instead.
    Almost perfect, she decided, looking in the mirror again. She went into the deep recesses of her closet and rummaged until she found her marabou trimmed house mules.
    Anna walked in, holding up a little white bag. "Look what I found."
    "Hey." She frowned as she slipped on her slippers. "That was in my purse."
    "I know. I smelled the chocolate. It's Teuscher too. Yum. Can I have some?" Without waiting for an answer, Anna opened it and took out a piece. "I knew it. You bought chocolate covered ginger and peeled the chocolate off."
    "I like the candied ginger. I can't help it if it's covered in chocolate."
    Her sister popped a shard of chocolate in her mouth. "Your dislike of chocolate is unnatural, but a good thing for me. Are you expecting company?"
    "No." Freya blinked at the sudden change of subject. "Why?"
    "Your clothes. Or rather, the lack thereof." She waved a hand up and down. "You dress like this every evening?"
    "Of course not."
    "So what's special about tonight?" Anna hopped up on the bed and swung her feet, just like she'd done since she was a little girl.
    "There's nothing special."
    "It looks like you're ready to make a sexual conquest." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "What's going on? Hot date?"
    She wished. She sighed before she could stop herself. "No date."
    Anna snapped her fingers. "I bet you're going through a quarter-life crisis."
    "Don't you mean mid-life crisis?"
    "You can't go through a mid-life crisis at thirty-one. You're too young," she replied sagely.
    Freya grinned. "Don't tell me this is what you've been learning in school."
    "Heck no. I read this in Cosmo . You've got all the signs. Restlessness. Erratic behavior. Suddenly dressing sexy." Her sister settled on her side, her hand propping her head. "All you're missing is the new hot guy."
    Not for long. On impulse, she said, "I'm going to find a hot guy."
    "Seriously? That's awesome." Anna perked up. "You should ask out