Page 47 of Touch of Class

“I’m serious. You’re different around them, softer, more playful, and they adore you. Those women, they’d march into Hell if you told them to.”

Gillian’s lips curled up slightly, but the smile carried a hint of sadness. “They have. I mean, I didn’t tell them to, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Or I wasn’t strong enough as a boss or a friend, or maybe I was too busy trying to be both.”

“Hey,” Daphne whispered, “come in for a second.”

“No. It’s been a long day, or a long two years, but I’m good.”

Daphne regarded her closely, for the first time looking past her perfectly pressed clothes and her never-mussed hair to weariness shimmering behind the ice in her eyes. Had it been there this whole time? What about the slight slope of her shoulders or the crease between her brows? Had Daphne made them worse? Kicking someone in need of comfort was the antithesis of every natural impulse she possessed. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah,” Gillian said it so quickly it couldn’t have been anything other than reflex.

“Gilly Bean,” she said softly, and ignored the grimace she got in response, likely a baser instinct for self-protection. “There’s so much affection available to you if you can lower your deflector shield or professional façade enough to accept it.”

“I’m aware of the benefits of self-reflection and authenticity. I’m simply not comfortable doing either in this context.”

“Fair.” Daphne hadn’t earned the right to be that person for Gillian. “I’m sure you can talk to Brooke or Robin or Sawyer about whatever you alluded to, the sending-them-into-Hell part.”

Gillian glanced up and away, signaling Daphne’d struck a chord. “Oh Gillian, do you seriously work with a cadre of therapist/best-friend combos and not talk to any of them about the deep stuff weighing on those proud shoulders of yours?”

“It’s complicated for me.”

“It’s complicated for everyone. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”

“There have been consequences,” Gillian started, then caught herself. Daphne had noticed her doing that more lately. “You know what? You can’t understand. I’m not even sure I understand. I don’t know why I came in here.”

“Because I asked you to.”

“Did you?” Gillian frowned. “It’s been a long day.”

“So you mentioned. And also a long two years.”

Gillian blinked a few times as if finding it hard to focus. “Did I tell you that, too?”

Daphne nodded. “Can I help?”

“I can’t see how.” Gillian shook her head. “I should get going.”

“Because you’re super tough and you do everything by yourself?”

“Because I don’t need help, and if I did, I’m sure there’s nothing you could do for me. Why can’t you ever just let me go?”

“I don’t know,” Daphne admitted honestly enough. “Most of the time it’s probably because I get some perverse pleasure out of pushing your buttons. Like there’s this thrill in ruffling someone the world sees as unreachable. Or sometimes it makes me feel better to prove nothing is as serious as you want to make it. Nothing is ever so bad it can’t be laughed about.”

The old irritation sparked in Gillian’s eyes, but Daphne was still pondering the question on her own terms. “Maybe sometimes I do needle because I still don’t trust this façade you’ve cultivated. I find it hard to believe any person could be this put together all the time, like it has to be a front, and part of me hopes if I poke the right brick, it’ll crack long enough for me to see the real you underneath.”

“You want to break me?”

“Sometimes, but not in a malicious way. It’s more like a mischievous curiosity. I’m dying to know if the woman behind the fortress is soft or snarky, kind or biting.” Daphne picked up speed and animation. “Or perhaps she’s coiled up behind that wall, primed to lose her ever-loving shit if given the right opportunity to do so without mussing up her nails or her reputation in the process.”

Gillian stared at her, a rare moment of speechlessness settling over them both, and their eyes locked. Daphne worried the last bit had been too honest even for her.

“Which is it tonight?” Gillian finally asked.

“Believe it or not, tonight I just wanted to say I like working here, and I know you don’t like me working here, but I see you putting the good of the office ahead of your own dislike of me. That’s cooler of you than I thought you were capable of being, but when I saw you, I mean really saw you, I worried maybe always being the one to concede gracefully had taken too heavy a toll on you.”

Gillian lifted both hands and let them fall to her side again.

“Hey,” Daphne whispered, “would you like a hug?”