Seventeen #3
Gillian sagged against the wall, and Daphne stared at the floor, the ceiling, anything she could not to look at her there all freshly kissed and struggling to find her bearings without cracking again.
And yet, as fun as that may be, she wasn’t ready to explain anything about what was happening here to their friends and colleagues.
She couldn’t even explain it to herself.
Maybe this interruption was their saving grace, a forced chance to slow down, to think things through, to find an exit ramp. With that thought and a deep, steadying breath, she sank onto the futon with all the faux casualness she could summon and called, “We’re in my office.”
Footsteps fell closer as Gillian straightened her shirt and ran a hand through her hair, managing to look perfect again. Daphne rolled her eyes, but this time the emotion felt more like admiration than annoyance.
“There you are.” Robin strode through the door followed by her person. “What’s up, Buttercups?”
Daphne lifted a shoulder in a gesture she hoped looked like nonchalance.
“Uh-oh.” Sawyer clearly saw through her. “Are you two back at it again?”
“At what?” Gillian’s voice carried only a slight hint of tension.
“Bickering,” Robin said flatly. “Do we have to set up an office rotation so the two of you aren’t ever alone together again?”
Gillian pushed off the wall and straightened her shoulders. “That won’t be necessary. We’re both grown women capable of working out our differences.”
“I believe in you,” Robin said, then turning to Daphne added, “and you. But no more work tonight. We’ve come to kidnap Gillian, or boss-nap her, since she’s just reminded me she’s a grown-ass woman, as are you. Would you like to be napped as well?”
Daphne shook her head. “No thank you.”
“No thank you for me as well,” Gillian said.
“Sorry, Gilly.” Sawyer stepped in. “It’s December in Buffalo. Winter fun must be had.”
“I’m not dressed for winter or for fun.”
Robin laughed. “We’re meeting Tegan and Brooke at your place in fifteen minutes so you can change. We’ll head out from there. You’ll be given instructions but not details.”
Gillian shook her head. “I think I’ve had enough adventure for one night.”
Sawyer and Robin both perked up at the comment, but Daphne cut them off by blurting out, “Fencing.”
They turned to her.
“Gillian took Izzy to fencing lessons and talked with the owners.”
“Wicked cool,” Robin said.
“Indeed.” Daphne pushed herself up on shaky legs. “And it’s also a reminder I need to go pick up my child.”
“Bring her along,” Sawyer offered. “I’d love to meet her.”
Daphne skirted past them, trying not to brush too close to Gillian on the way out, and gave a half-hearted, “Sorry, school night,” in way of her excuse.
“Daphne,” Gillian said her name with a plaintive hint in her voice.
She turned and met her eyes, then looked quickly away again. She simply couldn’t trust herself around this woman. She’d been about to rip her clothes off. Gillian. At work. Fuck.
“I don’t have to go,” Gillian said plainly.
“I do,” Daphne said flatly.
“Okay.” Gillian nodded resolutely, then sighed. “I guess I’ll surrender to my fate tonight.”
“We’re going out with friends, not being ordered to walk the plank.” Robin laughed and clasped a hand on Gillian’s shoulder before steering her out the door. “Trust me. It’ll be better than whatever else was on your plate for tonight.”
Gillian and Daphne cast another glance at each other.
“Go grab your coat,” Sawyer suggested. “We’ll pull up the getaway car.”
Gillian did as instructed, collecting her things while Daphne closed up her own office, but that left them both back at the front door at the same time Robin and Sawyer pulled up in the snow-covered street.
Gillian looked like she wanted to say something, but Daphne shook her head. “Your friends are waiting.”
“I know,” Gillian sighed. “I also get the sense you want to get out of this as quickly and cleanly as possible. I’ll go, but so we don’t repeat any past miscommunications, I am not unaffected.”
Daphne scoffed softly. “‘Not unaffected.’ What a way with words you have.”
The corners of Gillian’s lips quirked up slightly. “You’re the one who always had a flair for poetics. How would you describe what you’re feeling?”
Daphne thought for a moment, her grasp on the English language suddenly insufficient to her cause. All she could come up with was a simple, “Shaken.”
A horn sounded outside, stealing their attention, but when Gillian turned back to her, there was a seriousness to her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Someone told me tonight that some things are worth being shaken for.”
Her breath caught. “And?”
Gillian smiled again, this time fully. “For me, this is one of those things.”
Daphne’s heart pounded in her throat so hard she could only nod and squeeze out one word. “Go.”
Gillian mercifully heeded the direction, but Daphne didn’t follow her out. Instead, she numbly walked the few steps back to her own space. Pushing open the door, she collapsed onto the bed and screamed into a pillow.