Touch of Class (In Session Romances #3)

One

“Surprise!”

“Babe, let her in.” Sawyer caught their girlfriend around the waist and pulled her out of the way. “It’s her party.”

“My party?” Gillian asked as she stepped into the waiting room. “It’s my office.”

“Also, your birthday,” Brooke said. “We knew you were too smart to be tricked into going out someplace tonight, so we brought the celebration to work with us.”

“My birthday, my place of work. Shouldn’t I get to decide to celebrate it how I want, or not at all?”

“Sorry, not sorry, boss.” Tegan stepped forward, holding a cake alight with candles. “You’re too lovable not to celebrate.”

“Then I resolve to be less loveable in the year ahead,” Gillian grumbled, but she couldn’t help softening a bit as the initial shock wore off. These people loved her, and as inconvenient as it may be at times, the feeling was mutual.

“Good luck with that,” Sawyer said. “I tried awfully hard last year. Kind of backfired.”

Gillian looked at them, her eyes homing in on Robin’s arm around Sawyer’s waist, and the last of her grumpiness started to slip. “Well, whatever’s kept you here for three months could serve as a cautionary tale as easily as a ringing endorsement.”

Sawyer laughed and pulled Robin closer. “You know what’s kept me here, all these amazing women.”

Gillian’s first hint of a smile broke free as her argument faded.

Brooke and Tegan, Robin and Sawyer did undoubtedly constitute an amazing group of humans, and if she had any accomplishments worth reflecting on as she wrapped up another year of life, the fact that she’d created and maintained this community through several storms into smoother waters had to be chief among them.

“Three months? A new record for stability.” Robin stared at Sawyer for a long second, though the comment could apply more broadly to all of them. Then, seeming to remember the reason for the celebration she said, “Come on, G-Money. Put your lips together and blow. We all need dessert.”

Gillian rolled her eyes but obliged without pausing to make a wish.

For her fortieth year, she wanted only more of this right here, all her people safe and happy, a thriving mental health practice, closeness, comfort, consistency, calm.

But once the flames were out, she squinted at the message scrawled in icing.

“‘Happy Cougar Era, Ivy League’? Let me guess who placed this order.”

“Technically, I did,” Sawyer admitted, “but Robin dictated the inscription.”

“Shocking.”

“She said I had to sign the receipt because you can’t fire me,” they explained. “I said you could banish me, though.”

She caught them tightly by the arm as Tegan whisked the cake away to cut it. “If I have to stay and endure this chaos, you do, too.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Sawyer laughed. “Robin’s, too.”

“So much pleasure.” Robin kissed them for emphasis.

“Okay, okay,” Brooke said. “How about doing the presents now?”

“Brookesy,” Gillian warned in a low tone, “you know how I feel about gifts.”

“We do, and also your feelings on late-stage capitalism, which is why we all agreed to go with nonmaterialistic offerings to your awesomeness,” Robin jumped back in. “Sawyer and I decided on a chose-your-own adventure option.”

She raised an eyebrow, automatically suspicious about any gift Robin considered an “adventure.” Still, she eased into a chair as Tegan passed her a plate loaded with thickly frosted goodness.

“Option number one, we would like to pay for and accompany you on your first skydiving excursion.”

“Absolutely not.” She didn’t even have to think about it. The last thing Gillian wanted to do as she moved into middle age was anything that might hasten an untimely death.

“Told you,” Sawyer said. “You can’t just jump into things like this. You gotta crank up the temperature slowly.”

Robin folded her arms and approximated her most stereotypical therapist tone. “Gillian and I like jumping metaphors. Skydiving is a guided imagery exercise come to life. It could be a real milestone moment.”

“Every minute with you is a real moment,” Gillian deadpanned.

“Aw thanks, boss.” Robin accepted the comment as if it had been a compliment. “We do have a plan B. We’d like to get tickets for the whole crew to go to a Cornell women’s basketball game and let you show us the site of your former glory.”

Gillian needed only a few seconds to mull that offer and noted the warmth it sparked at her core. “Now you’re talking, except for the ‘former glory’ part. I’m not that far removed from triumph. Thank you. That would give me something to really look forward to.”

“Good, and you can bring a date if you want,” Sawyer added.

“Very funny.” She took another bite of cake.

“If you’re looking for options, we have ideas,” Robin piled on.

“The waitress from Cornelia looked like she’d like to serve you on a plate,” Tegan suggested.

“Or the woman who delivers packages from UPS and always lingers to get your signature?” Brooke offered.

Gillian rolled her eyes. “That is literally her job.”

“What about the woman from the gym who waits until you pick your treadmill every morning, then chooses the one right next to you?” Brooke prodded.

“So annoying.” Exasperation crept into her tone once more. “It’s 6 a.m. There are plenty of open treadmills. Spread out. What is wrong with people?”

“Not really the point.” Sawyer tried to pull her back. “Aren’t you ready to finally lean into your fabulous forties? Play the field, knock some boots—”

“Stop.” Gillian held up a hand, staring at her friends and colleagues who had been almost militantly single themselves until a few months ago. “Not everyone needs to pair up, and I can’t believe I have to explain that to Sawyer and Robin of all people.”

Robin conceded the point. “It’s still super weird to me, too.”

“So weird,” Sawyer agreed, then locked eyes with Robin and smiled as if she were the only woman who’d ever existed for them, a sight Gillian still found slightly disconcerting.

It wasn’t that she was anti-relationship.

She’d always intended to get around to fostering one of her own, but seeing her friends fall into the chaos of their own romances hadn’t exactly done anything to create urgency around the desire.

Brooke and Tegan’s origin story as a couple had nearly sent the whole practice into an ethics crisis, while Robin and Sawyer’s wild collision had nearly broken them both.

Gillian had too much going on to risk becoming some sappy, lovestruck stereotype, like the former, or a sex-driven dopamine chaser, like the latter.

As if to prove her point, Sawyer leaned in like they intended to make out with Robin right there, but Tegan cleared her throat, and they stopped.

“Sorry,” Robin said quickly. “We’re not trying to get you wifed up. I’d just enjoy seeing you go out and rock those cougar vibes.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer piled on. “Maybe pounce on some hot young thing looking to learn the ropes. Brookesy, wanna give her the pointers in that department?”

Brooke shook her head as her cheeks flushed, and she steadfastly refused to look at Tegan. “Not even a little bit, but I do want to give her a birthday present that I hope everyone’s happy about.”

Gillian’s interest piqued, and not just in gratitude for the subject change. “What’s that?”

“With the new semester underway, and Tegan settled in, I think it might be time for me to return to the practice, slowly.”

Gillian about jumped out of her chair. “Are you serious?”

Brooke nodded, and Tegan beamed at her.

The relief nearly overwhelmed Gillian as the idea sank in.

Her best friend had been gone from her work world for a year, and now she’d be right down the hall again.

All Gillian’s people together, daily, in a safe place, one she’d built and managed herself.

The news felt akin to wrestling a runaway train back onto the right track.

“I can’t even tell you how much I needed to hear that. ”

“There are still details to work out,” Brooke said.

“I’m teaching two classes, and I want to stay connected to the program going forward, but I’ve really missed working one-on-one with clients.

I thought I might build my base back up over the next couple of months and return full-time in January, if that’s okay. ”

Gillian hugged her tightly. “Of course. More than okay!”

Robin hopped in, wrapping her arms around them both and squeezing. “We’re getting the band back together.”

“Damn,” Sawyer said. “Now I’m extra glad I stuck around.”

Gillian sighed. “I’m glad we have our crew all together. It feels like a real righting of the ship.”

“I agree.” Tegan reached for Brooke’s hand. “We’re ready to get back to the good stuff.”

Gillian took a bite of her cake and sighed happily. Maybe this birthday would be a milestone. Maybe this could be a return to the calm life, the steady pace. After more than a year of change, maybe this transition could be one that brought stability instead of disorder.

No sooner had the dream sparked than her phone buzzed.

As she glanced at the screen, her hope faded in a rush of concern. Standing, she handed her plate to Brooke and headed for the door. “I have to take this.”

She pressed the accept button as soon as she stepped into the hall. “Hello, Gillian DeGarmo speaking.”

“Gillian, glad I caught you.” The voice of her building manager came through loud and clear. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. The ownership group rented out the office across the hall from you. You’re getting new neighbors starting next month.”

“I beg your pardon.” She glanced at the door across from her now. The “vacant” sign attached to it had been there so long she’d begun to think of it as a permanent design feature.

“I don’t have all the details,” he explained. “I didn’t handle the tour. I only know it’s a sole proprietor business called ‘Healing Touch,’ and they’ll also share your waiting area.”

“Hold on.” It felt like something in her brain may’ve ruptured. “We have clients in the waiting room all the time.”

He chuckled. “I’m familiar with the concept of a waiting room.”