Page 32 of Touch of Class

“I’m glad you made it.” Robin bounced around happily. “Halloween’s the best!”

“I see why you’d think so. You look amazing.”

Robin did a little twirl and caught hold of Sawyer. “Oh, and you haven’t met my person yet. This devilishly handsome, endlessly skilled, they/them pronouned creature possesses all the bent and blended boundaries one person can contain, so I locked that shit down.”

“Such a thrill to make your acquaintance, Monsieur Wolf. And I can see why this woman would’ve gladly played prey in your case.”

Sawyer bowed low with a perfectly wolfish grin. “I do appreciate a woman who recognizes a bit of ‘bad’ is often warranted. Though you can call me Sawyer in mixed company. I’ve heard so much about you. I feel like we’re already friends.”

“Does my reputation precede me?”

“You brought a bed into Gillian’s office suite. Of course it does. Then you show up dressed as Stevie Nicks.” They nodded to the headwear matching their own. “Welcome to Team Top Hat.”

Daphne beamed. “I’m glad you knew who I was. I had to reuse a costume from a party I attended a few years ago. I wanted something more kid friendly, but I lost track of time.”

“The kids might miss the memo, but the moms will dig the flowing black shawl paired with the hat and those fingerless gloves.”

“The gloves make it,” Robin agreed. “A little elegance, a little naughty, like you might play the piano later, or you might do something much more fun. Forget Team Top Hat, I’m claiming you for Team Rabble-Rouser.”

“I didn’t even know there were teams, but I’m happy to be on one.”

“The cohorts are almost as fluid as I am, but our friend group forms voting blocks around various topics,” Sawyer explained. “Robin and I are almost always in favor of tomfoolery and general hijinks. Tegan can be swayed to side with us when the shenanigans involve little or no risk of physical injury. She’s a yes for karaoke, improv theater, axe throwing, and the like.”

“Not sure I would’ve put axe throwing in the low-risk category, but this is tremendously helpful. What about the others?”

“Brooke is a walking moderation mechanism. She’s the compromising peacemaker and human balancing act of the crew. She was generally inclined toward the introverted and mild-mannered wine-and-a-movie set until Tegan knocked her socks off. Now she’s sliding more to the middle, so long as there’s little to no physical exertion involved. She’s endlessly and weirdly good at random things, but if we’re hiking, biking, or playing any game requiring her to leave a lawn chair, she’s out.”

“Got it. Tegan draws the line at physical harm, Brooke at physical exertion.”

“Then there’s Gillian …” Robin grinned.

“We’ve met,” Daphne deadpanned. “Queen of the No-Fun Club.”

“Not true,” Robin said at the same time Sawyer said, “Specific fun.”

Daphne laughed. “Are you trying to tell me she’s not the far opposite end of this continuum of chaos?”

“Chaos, yes, but don’t count her out,” Robin said. “She’s got high standards, which can make her epic.”

Daphne didn’t buy it, and the doubt must’ve shown plainly on her face.

“She’s an absolute shark in anything competitive, and she does not share Brooke’s aversion to playing rough.” Sawyer’s smile filled with admiration. “She’ll burn your ass in flag football and laugh in your face as she fires shots over your head on the basketball court, nothing but net.”

Daphne nodded grudgingly. “Okay, that tracks from the all-American.”

“Oh yeah, you knew her back in her athletic heyday.”

Something inside Daphne pushed against the descriptor. She wasn’t sure she’d ever genuinely known Gillian, and she didn’t want to think of those years as their glory days.

“Oh, and she’s got a taste for the finer things in life.” Robin sounded almost dreamy. “She knows all the best restaurants and hosts top-shelf dinner parties, plus she makes the most amazing red sauce you’ve ever tasted.”

Sawyer groaned in agreement. “To die for. And don’t forget the spa trips.”

Robin feigned a swoon. “She is the most amazing trip planner you can even imagine. She took us to a spa in Canada with a eucalyptus steam room, a sauna, and this cascading set of pools and—”

“Wait.” Sawyer caught Robin’s arm. “Here she comes.”

They all turned to see Gillian striding confidently through the parking lot dressed to the nines as Merida from Brave. Daphne’s breath caught at the sight of her in a green and gold gown flowing almost to her ankles, which were clad in brown lace-up boots that clearly went higher than the hemline showed. Her naturally red hair had been curled into an untamed state that nearly matched Daphne’s usual look. She would’ve been the picture of femininity if not for the brown belt/quiver combo cocked haughtily across her hips and the authentic longbow slung over her shoulder. The weaponry added more than a touch of badass, and the way Gillian sauntered through the gathering crowd made Daphne certain this woman was capable of using them if the need arose.