Page 70 of Touch of Class

Daphne accepted the cue grudgingly. “Yes, thank you, Gillian.”

“And thank you, Lynn,” she echoed, “for the chat, and for all the research that got each of us here.”

Daphne met her eyes and held them for a second, those dark depths swirling again to the point Gillian thought she might say something else, something more. Only after a moment, she gave one quick nod and left.

It should’ve been a victory. Certainly, Daphne had earned the right to be less gracious or offer a much bigger “I told you so.” Gillian should’ve been relieved she was let off the hook without further comment, but as she watched the woman whose commentary she’d tried for so long to avoid walk away, she couldn’t help but wonder what words had been perched on her soft lips.

“Good night, Robin,” Daphne called from her own office. “Say ‘hi’ to Sawyer for me.”

Tegan popped her head in the door. “You look cozy.”

Daphne lay on her back on the futon. “You wouldn’t think lying down all day would be as draining as it is.”

“Emotional labor is always exhausting in its own way.”

She loved her for recognizing that aspect of Daphne’s work. “You get me.”

“I do.” Tegan laughed. “My family thinks I chat with people all day. How hard can that be?”

Daphne groaned. “Yes, sit there and bear the weight of everyone else’s emotions, trauma, expectations, fears, and insecurities. Let’s see them try that at the gym.”

Tegan laughed. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could burn calories for all the metaphorical heavy lifting we do?”

“That’s perfect. If I ever find a magic genie in a bottle, that’ll be one of my wishes, for all of us.”

“Are you heading out, too?” Gillian’s voice came down the hall, clear and steady.

“Yep.” Tegan stepped back, and Daphne rolled on her side to get a quick look at her boss as she passed in a blur of red hair and navy blue business attire. Her heart gave her ribs a disconcerting kick, and she scolded herself. She’d sworn she wouldn’t do this at work. Maybe at night, all alone in the quiet dark she could remember feeling that body against her own, but here she needed to keep her guard up. She had too much at stake.

She lay back and stared at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Tegan’s retreat and Gillian locking the door behind her.

At least it had been easy to summon some of the old fury when Daphne had found her talking to Lynn earlier. The idea of Gillian grilling one of her clients had sparked something deeply protective in her. Then, when it had become clear she was actually listening respectfully to the same things she’d scoffed at when Daphne’d relayed them, it’d sent her into the satisfyingly familiar anger. It would’ve been nice to let it burn for a while, but Gillian had pulled it together, and had even left the conversation on a hint of innuendo, which was weird, because Gillian didn’t ever leave things open-ended.

Maybe Daphne had read the situation wrong. She hated how that idea hung around her every interaction now. A few weeks ago, she’d been certain she knew exactly how Gillian viewed the world and Daphne in particular.

“Hi.” Gillian’s voice came from the hallway again, this time softer. “Mind if I come in?”

Daphne sat up, waiting to make sure she was speaking to her. Seemed unlikely, given the tone, but sure enough, Gillian stood at the threshold, waiting expectantly.

“Sure.” She pushed a few stray curls from her face, realizing they probably looked like bed head … because they were. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing. I wanted to apologize.”

Daphne’s smile spread along with the awareness this woman was sincere. “Okay. Should I ask what for? Or is this like a blanket thing? Say more.”

Gillian rolled her eyes. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected easy acceptance, but I didn’t bring an itemized list or anything.”

“I seem to remember you were a great extemporaneous speaker, captain of the debate team and all. I trust you can still think on your feet.”

Gillian shook her head, but instead of getting angry or flustered, she smiled. It was a nice change Daphne hadn’t expected. “Okay, challenge accepted. I suppose my apology falls into three parts. First, I’m sorry I didn’t welcome you into the office the way I should have. I was standoffish before you even got here, and then when I realized who you were and what you did for a living, I got exponentially worse. I clung to my professionalism instead of meeting you like a person, right where you were, which is also a part of my professionalism I failed to live up to.”

“Wow.” Daphne couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Two,” Gillian continued, “I didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt when you tried to share information with me. I didn’t see you as capable of being serious, and I didn’t see your job as worthy of my seriousness. I simply didn’t want to believe you, so I didn’t. Which leads me to point number three. I didn’t do my own research.”

“Which is weird because you love research.”

“Right,” Gillian admitted. “If it had been anyone other than you, I would’ve gone full-on science mode. I may’ve been actively trying to disprove you, but I would’ve given the task my most dispassionate assessment, steeped in best practices and solid methodologies. I didn’t do any of that. I wrote you off because of who you were at seventeen and who I’ve worked hard to become since then.”