Page 38 of Winter With You

‘Thanks,’ Gabriella said. ‘I think.’

‘So, will Luca be styling you for the next event?’

‘I guess so.’

‘I like him.’

‘Good. I mean, if you didn’t like him I don’t think Cheyenne would fire him anyway but…’ She stopped talking. But she could probably have got him fired over whatever had ended up in her dress, no matter how it had got there. Then again, he could have dobbed her in over the water bottle incident and he hadn’t. That she knew of. Maybe it was one-all. Kind of.

‘So, you like him?’ Phoebe asked.

‘Shall we listen to the guide? I don’t want to miss the grisly sections.’

Phoebe grinned. ‘You’re changing the subject. You’ve answered my question.’

‘What? No.’

‘There’s no need to get weird about it. You are allowed to like people you know.’

‘I do like people,’ Gabriella said. ‘I like Santa Claus when he brings me gifts and I like… um… well… I totally like David Attenborough. What a guy!’

‘I meant liking guys. Like liking guys.’

And already, even though it was minus figures temperature, Gabriella was starting to get a body sweat from the direction of the conversation and she could feel her wound twinging. This was not a discussion she wanted to be having with her sixteen-year-old niece…

‘I know you like him because you’ve not been totally obnoxious to him yet. You’re obnoxious to most people. Not that it isn’t a strength in some cases but⁠—’

‘I’m not obnoxious to most people. I just have boundaries and some people violate them by⁠—’

‘Breathing?’ Phoebe suggested.

‘That’s over dramatic.’

Phoebe raised an eyebrow and there was such a look of Lulu about her that it squeezed Gabriella’s heart for a second.

‘Anyway, as I was saying, you can tell me if you like a guy or if you’ve been out with a guy or you’re talking on dating apps with a guy or⁠—’

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where is this coming from?’ Gabriella asked as the bus turned a corner and they were hit with more New York winter life shining brightly.

‘I just know that being my guardian, as well as my aunt, and a bestselling writer, it’s not easy and it must be hard to find time for you. So, I’m just saying, don’t feel you can’t tell me about who you go to see when you leave the apartment in the middle of the night.’

Gabriella swallowed. Phoebe knew she left the apartment in the middle of the night sometimes. That wasn’t good. But what was the right thing to say here? That she met people for late-night dates? Or that she visited Lulu’s grave with an open-all-hours takeout?

She whispered, ‘And what would you say if I was a secret government operative?’

‘Tom Hiddleston wants his role back.’

Gabriella nudged Phoebe’s arm. ‘There are no guys, Pheebs. I promise. And the middle of the night thing? Sometimes I just can’t sleep so I walk.’

‘In the middle of the night? On your own?’ Now Phoebe looked worried.

‘Always with pepper spray and some intimidating Russian up my sleeve. OK?’ She nudged her arm again.

‘OK,’ Phoebe answered. ‘And, I’m glad there’s no guys in Bettersea.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes, because that means you’re free to get to know your stylist.’