Page 117 of Frosted Fakes

Here it comes, Elliott thought. The scene. The dramatic confrontation. Gabby Richardson didn't lose gracefully; everyone knew that. She'd probably demand a recount or accuse the judges of bias, or—

Gabby stopped in front of Elliott and extended her hand.

"Best woman won," she said. Her voice was cool, but not hostile. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with a little healthy competition."

Elliott stared at the offered hand.

Then, slowly, she shook it.

"Thank you," she said. "That means a lot."

It didn't, really. But it was the right thing to say, and Gabby seemed satisfied. She nodded once, then turned to Julia.

Something passed between them. Elliott couldn't read it, years of history compressed into a single glance. Gabby's expression flickered, just for a moment, into something that might have been respect.

"Thank you for helping Bridget," she said. She took a deep breath, swallowed, then added: "Perhaps you could teach me to do that. I can’t have a PA collapsing at every award ceremony I go to."

And Julia smiled. Really smiled. A big, broad smile that filled the room and more. There was no more small Julia, no more Julia cramming herself into a corner to please everyone. "I’d be happy to," she said to Gabby.

Gabby watched her for a second longer, then gave a nod and walked back to her table. It was over.

Julia let out a breath. "That was…"

"Unexpected?"

"I was going to say 'terrifying,' but sure."

Elliott took her hand. "She's not fixed."

"No." Julia watched her mother sit down, accept condolences from her entourage. "But maybe she's trying. In her own way."

It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't resolution. But it was something.

The ceremony wound down around them. Music began to play, soft and unobtrusive. People rose from their tables, mingling, congratulating, networking.

Elliott looked at the trophy in front of her, then at the people surrounding her. Milly and Shay and Jamie and Tom and Julia.

Her people.

"Come on," Julia said, tugging her hand. "Let's get some air."

✽✽✽

The balcony was quiet, the noise of the reception muffled behind glass doors. London spread out below them, all glittering lights and distant traffic, and Julia leaned against the railing and breathed.

"You okay?" Elliott asked, coming to stand beside her.

"Yeah. Just… a lot."

"Mmm."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment. Elliott's shoulder was warm against hers. Inside, Julia could see their friends through the window, Shay gesturing dramatically about something, Jamie laughing, Milly examining Elliott's trophy with obvious delight.

"This time next month, I’ll be a real nurse," Julia said.

"I know."

Julia’s heart ached a little. "What if I'm terrible at it?"