Page 98 of Touch of Class

Gillian’s cheeks warmed even in the frosty air.

“Why are you two always weird together?” Izzy asked, and Gillian’s internal temperature rose even higher. My God, she’d been flirting with Daphne right in front of her preteen daughter.

“Izzy, that’s rude,” Daphne scolded mildly.

“Gotta say, I’m with her on this one,” Brooke jumped in. “Probably wouldn’t have phrased it quite as bluntly, but I would’ve asked the same thing on the ride home.”

“Thanks for the forewarning,” Gillian said, “but that’s assuming we survive this harrowing experience. We may die and never have to answer any questions.”

Daphne glanced from Gillian to Izzy to Brooke. “Sounds like a real toss-up.”

“What does?” Sawyer asked, tromping through the snow with an extra-long wooden sled tucked under one arm.

“Meeting a swift and untimely end via toboggan or having conversations with other people we haven’t had with each other yet,” Gillian said blithely.

“I’d choose the former.” Robin joined them, dragging a toboggan behind her as well. “At least the chute will be over quickly.”

Gillian must’ve been in pretty bad shape, because she saw Robin’s point.

“I’m not afraid of any conversation,” Brooke said. “I’m here to watch, and possibly to talk, but I’m also happy to play photographer while you all scream your way down the chute.”

“Are those my options?” Daphne glanced nervously around. “Surely, there’s a watch-and-not-talk-to-a-therapist possibility.”

Tegan laughed as she walked up behind them. “I feel like I’ve arrived at just the right moment. The parking lot’s hectic, but this seems worse. What is happening?”

“Gillian and Daphne are weird, I’m not riding that contraption, but the others might, in order to avoid dealing with conversations of indeterminate topics,” Brooke summarized.

Robin raised her hand. “I’m Team Toboggan.”

“Same.” Sawyer raised theirs as well.

“I want to ride with Gillian!” Izzy declared enthusiastically, then turned to her with big brown eyes so much like her mother’s. “Please?”

Gillian didn’t even look at the others. “I didn’t drive all the way out of the city on icy roads to wimp out on your first Buffalo snow day.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “You have to make everything competitive, don’t you? We can’t ever just have a nice time, can we?”

Gillian turned to her and merely arched one eyebrow pointedly. “Can’t we?”

Daphne’s mouth opened, then shut again, as if she couldn’t believe Gillian had said something so brazen in mixed company. Honestly, she couldn’t either, but she still felt a surge of satisfaction at leaving this woman speechless … again.

“Can I change my vote?” Robin asked. “I think I do want to hear this conversation.”

“There’s no conversation,” Daphne said quickly. “I’m riding, too. Let’s go.”

Before anyone else could press them, Gillian snagged one of the sleds from Robin and started up the stairs.

It seemed like the line should’ve taken longer, should’ve given her time to reflect on her life and her choices, or at least what had happened back there. If nothing else, she might’ve enjoyed a moment or two just to look at Daphne ahead of her and two steps up, putting Gillian’s line of sight level with the curve of her hips and—

“How many riders?” The man at the door to the metal hut interrupted her inspection.

“Three!” Izzy answered for them all. “I want to sit up front. Mom, you better hold onto me so I don’t fly off.”

“What a lovely image,” Daphne mumbled. “Who’ll keep me from a similar fate?”

Izzy looked at her as if she found the question silly. “Uh, Gillian, obviously.”

Gillian bit her lip to keep from smiling, both at Izzy’s unflappable faith in her and in the way Daphne sighed before repeating, “Obviously.”