Thirteen #2
“Not yet,” Robin said. “You’re the Everest of boundaries and decorum, but that’s what’ll make it so amazing when someone climbs the summit and topples you.”
Daphne turned around to see Gillian standing, feet shoulder-width apart, arms folded across her chest, shoulders squared and a glint of defiance in her magnificent eyes. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Only once she said it, Daphne realized that’s exactly what she’d been doing.
“I concede.” Daphne pushed back from the table. “That’s the best lasagna I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
“Excuse me?” Gillian leaned forward and cupped her hand behind her ear. “You what?”
“Concede.” Daphne laughed. “On this point, not all of them, but right here, right now, I’m willing to sign an affidavit swearing Gillian DeGarmo, among her many and storied accomplishments, has perfected the dish of lasagna.”
“Many and storied accomplishments? I like the sound of that.” Gillian grinned, basking in the sweetness of Daphne’s surrender.
She liked the look of her, too, all laid back, her hair falling down over her shoulders, and a hint of pink in her tan complexion.
When Daphne leaned into a compliment, she did so with her whole being.
The same commitment as she used when ribbing Gillian.
Or hugging her. The thought caused a hint of heat to spread through her, and she glanced away, only to find a curious expression on Brooke’s face.
“You love little so much as winning,” Daphne continued, “but I can’t begrudge you your satisfaction this time.”
A chill ran up Gillian’s arms at the mention of satisfaction, or perhaps the low, knowing way Daphne said it, not quiet innuendo, but with a subtle authority, and, for some reason, she could no longer make eye contact with anyone until Tegan declared, “I’m stuffed, too.
Thank you for tonight, Boss. I needed this. ”
“Me too.” Robin sighed as she used a napkin to try to wipe some red sauce from her shirt. Sawyer simply nodded happily.
Something in Gillian settled as she surveyed the people around her table.
Her people, gathered in her home, sated and smiling.
The feeling welling up in her was a simpler kind of pride.
She enjoyed having everyone she loved in one place where she could tend to them all, and while she wasn’t ready to include Daphne in the list of people she loved, the fact that the lasagna had blown her mind, and she’d responded properly, lifted her up a notch in Gillian’s estimation.
“Now that everyone’s properly warm and relaxed,” Robin stretched languidly. “Sawyer and I found a conversation game we thought might be fun to play.”
“I’m not sure a group of therapists need mass-produced conversation starters to get through a Friendsgiving,” Gillian protested.
“Need and want are two different things.” Sawyer reached behind them and pulled out a box of cards to set between them. “Besides, these aren’t the type of questions you ever learned to ask in grad school, certainly not in a program run by my mother.”
“Oh?” Tegan leaned forward. “If Maura wouldn’t approve, I’m interested.”
“Right?” Robin pulled a card from the deck. “Think of all the things we’re missing by playing by the book.”
“I like the book,” Gillian said dryly, taking another sip of her wine.
“Come on, G-Baby.” Robin nudged her foot with her own under the table.
“You can’t pass up a chance to learn new skills.
You always want to know everything about everything.
Call this continuing ed. Maybe you’ll learn something new, or maybe you’ll confirm you already know it all.
We could all act like we’re at a workshop if it makes you feel better. ”
“I do love a good workshop,” Tegan said happily. “I’m in.”
“Me too.” Brooke leaned back and rested her arm across the back of Tegan’s chair. “Besides, Gilly, a conversation starter game is mild compared to the antics these two usually try to rope us into. Maybe we should reward behavior that doesn’t involve the risk of bodily harm.”
“There you go with the solid logic.” Sawyer nodded as they unfolded the directions. “Plus, there’s a rating chart for the questions. You love a good metric.”
Gillian rolled her eyes but couldn’t argue the base concept, so she pivoted to Sawyer’s previous qualms. “I thought you hated anything mimicking an experiment.”
“I generally do,” Sawyer admitted, “but I don’t know some of you all as well as others, and I barely know Daphne at all. I don’t want to wait months to get to the inappropriate stories part of our friendship.”
Daphne laughed. “Fine, start spilling yours right now.”
“Actually,” Gillian drew out the word. “If Sawyer’s stories are the standard for our after-dinner threshold, we might be safer playing the game.”
“Another excellent point.” Robin held up a card. “There’s good stuff here, and you get to challenge by choice. Each card has five questions on it, and they’re ranked by number of chili peppers. One chili pepper is low heat and five is hottest.”
“Who gets to pick the question?” Brooke asked.
“The person who’s answering chooses the number of chili peppers they think they can handle.
Then the rest of the group decides if the answer you give is worth the full amount of chilis, a partial amount, or no chilis.
The person who asks the question makes the final say and awards you your chilis. First one to collect 15 wins.”
“Ah, if you go big and give a great answer to a 5-chili question, you could win in three rounds,” Daphne said, “or you could play it safe and answer a lower-level question for fewer points, but not risk exposing yourself to higher heat or coming up short with your answer. I kind of like this.”
“Of course you do.” Gillian rolled her eyes, not at all surprised Daphne had cast the final vote against her.
“The consent culture is built right in,” Brooke added. “Challenge by choice.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not competitive,” Gillian said. “You’ll choose one chili all day and be perfectly happy, while the TMI twins over there will choose fives and traumatize us every time.”
Tegan laughed. “See, we’re already learning group dynamics. Come on, let’s try a few rounds and see how it goes.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Sawyer said, “because we’re supposed to start with the youngest player, and that’s you, Boo.”
Tegan squared her shoulders. “I’ll choose two chili peppers.”
Robin pulled a card and ran her finger down the edge before frowning. “Damn, we all already know the answer to this one.”
Daphne glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t.”
“What’s the question?” Tegan asked.
“Have you ever had a one-night stand?” Robin read.
Everyone but Daphne laughed, and Tegan turned to her to explain. “I tried.”
“And what? Some fool said no?”
Brooke absently twirled one of Tegan’s honeyed curls around her index finger. “The fool in question fell in love and rendered the ‘one-night’ caveat obsolete by coming back for more.”
Daphne’s eyes got big. “Oh, you two couldn’t leave it at one and done?”
“We did try,” Tegan reiterated. “It’s just hard when you find out the next week that you work at the same office.”
“My office.” Gillian pinched the bridge of her nose. “Second-worst disclosure conversation of my career.”
Daphne arched her eyebrows. “Second worst?”
“The first worst was when they did it again, and again, and also … Never mind, can we give her two chilis and move on?”
“Sold.” Robin marked Tegan’s tally on the scoresheet.
“Then you’re up, Babe.” Sawyer took the card box from Robin and passed it down the table. “Brooke, go ahead and ask her a fiver.”
Brooke’s blue eyes scanned to the bottom of the card. “Robin, would you tell the story of the most dangerous place you ever had sex.”
“Good one,” Tegan said. “How will you ever choose between the many, many options?”
Robin’s eyes glinted as she turned to Sawyer. “I mean ‘dangerous’ is subjective. There’s like physically dangerous, then there’s danger of getting caught.”
“Then there’s the danger of what you’d be risking if you got caught,” Sawyer prodded with a grin.
“Something tells me I want to hear the story you’re both thinking of,” Daphne said.
“Shall we say it in unison?” Robin asked her person.
Sawyer nodded slowly. “I feel like doing so even now is dangerous.”
“For five whole chili peppers.” Brooke leaned forward. “Where is the most dangerous, for what’s at stake reasons, place you’ve ever had sex. One. Two. Three.”
“Gillian’s couch.” Robin and Sawyer both said at once.
The room erupted, but Gillian couldn’t hear anyone over the pounding in her own brain.
Two of her friends, one of whom was an employee, had sex on the couch where she liked to unwind after work?
She wasn’t sure she wanted it to make sense.
Instead of trying too hard, she took another big pull of her wine and relished the way it flooded her senses with gentle warmth, or maybe that was the spreading horror.
“We didn’t plan it,” Robin said, as if that were helpful information. “It was our first time. We’d kissed the week earlier after our impromptu karaoke night, remember?”
“Did you know about this?” Brooke asked Tegan.
“I knew about the kiss and when they started having sex, but I had no idea where.”
“Sawyer was staying here,” Robin continued, “I swung by after work, and things got out of hand.”
“Or into your hands,” Sawyer said. “I remember your hands very distinctly.”
“Okay, okay.” Gillian sighed. “Can we hand out fifteen chilis and be done with this.”
Everyone laughed again, even though she hadn’t been joking.
“Here.” Brooke topped off her wine glass before turning to the others. “I do think we could move on.”
“Wait.” Daphne raised her hand. “I actually have more questions. Namely, where was Gillian? Like, in her bedroom?”
“No!” Robin and Sawyer both shouted.
“Work,” Robin explained. “I know her schedule. We had at least forty-five minutes.”
“But we did cut it close,” Sawyer said. “Gilly walked in the door not a full ten minutes after Robin left.”