Page 13 of Touch of Class

Gillian slowly pushed herself to standing, then under her breath she muttered, “Might as well get it over with.”

But by the time she made it to the hallway, Daphne was already laughing at whatever Robin had said.

God, that laugh. It reached out of the previously forgotten past and wrapped around Gillian, rich and reverberating. She could almost enjoy the sound when it wasn’t directed at her.

“Nice to meet you, Robin,” Daphne said. “I feel like we’re destined to be good friends.”

Gillian stifled the urge to roll her eyes at the inconvenient truth of the statement. Robin and Daphne would undoubtedly hit it off.

“These are my colleagues Brooke and Tegan,” Robin continued as each woman shook Daphne’s hand. “You can call them Teekesy or Brogan in those moments when their minds meld or they melt into each other, though that happens more outside the office.”

“Guilty as charged,” Tegan admitted, “but we’re way more interested in you. Want to come see the waiting room while we use our collective skills to uncover your entire life story?”

Daphne laughed … again with the laughing, and instead of just listening, Gillian got to watch her tip back her chin, throat exposed, curls shimmering, shoulders relaxed. How did anyone surrender so freely over something so simple?

The thought hit her in the chest, and she stiffened, catching Robin’s attention.

“Oh wait, Daphne. You haven’t met the boss yet.”

The corners of Daphne’s mouth remained curled as her light brown eyes drifted across the hall and over Gillian. “The boss?”

Robin grinned. “Capital ‘T,’ capital ‘B,’ right Ivy League?”

“Also guilty as charged.” Gillian offered a weak smile as she leaned against the doorjamb.

“The title suits you.”

She pressed her lips together at the dig couched as a compliment.

“Is it everything you always hoped it would be?” Daphne pressed.

“Wait.” Tegan glanced between them. “Do you two know each other?”

“Not really,” Gillian replied at the same time Daphne said, “Little bit.”

Everyone between them, both literally and figuratively, waited for more explanation.

Gillian stepped into the void, not sure what she wanted to say, but also certain she didn’t want Daphne to set the narrative. “We attended the same high school.”

“We were the only out lesbians in our graduating class,” Daphne explained, then with a quirk of a smile added, “but we hadn’t seen each other in more than twenty years until I swept her off her feet right onto my mattress yesterday.”

“High five!” Robin lifted her hand, but Brooke caught her by the wrist and lowered it gently.

Gillian’s face flamed hot as her temper rose, but she fought not to surrender to it, or any of the other emotions this woman inspired. “Daphne’s flair for the salacious is one of the many qualities responsible for the fact that we’ve never been close.”

Daphne laughed. “So many reasons. Shall we take turns listing them?”

“Let’s not,” Gillian said flatly. “I’d like to be able to go home at some point tonight.”

“I have so many questions,” Tegan stage-whispered.

“Story time, G-Dawg,” Robin singsonged. “My office or yours?”

Brooke remained quiet, blue eyes wide as she searched Gillian’s for some kind of cue.

Only Gillian didn’t have one to give. She didn’t want to even be in this conversation, but she felt relatively certain it was going to get worse before it got better, though if Daphne had dropped the mattress jokes in the first minute, she wasn’t sure this would ever get better. Still, she’d learned the quickest way out of discomfort was to lean into it, and while this woman inspired a slew of reactions in her, cowardice wasn’t one of them. “Perhaps Daphne would like a more formal introduction to our shared space, and a more thorough introduction to our team.”

This seemed to surprise her. As Daphne raised her eyebrows, Gillian couldn’t help but feel as though she’d scored a subtle point of some kind. “I’d actually love that, but I’m parked illegally.”