IRENE - BLACKBIRD book 6

8. the thousand scowls

"I can talk to them tomorrow, if you want."

Gillian looked up, surprised at his offering. Brock? Talking the team into playing along and fall back while 'their girls had all the fun'? Well, she could be sure about one thing: they wouldn't argue with Brock like they would with her.

"You won't be able to say no to them, Gillian, and you know it," he said.

"They won't take it well, coming from you instead of me."

"I think I'll be safe until Morris starts staring at me."

She was surprised again and scoffed. Brock grabbed the sugar, pretending to ignore her reaction.

"And I can always leave when Bellison looks away and folds his arms to keep from punching me."

Gillian chuckled.

"On the bright side, Schwarz will appreciate the free time. And O'Brien can join Philips and the other techs to play online with them."

She let out a soft laughter, shaking her head. "I should've known you'd have us all mapped out!" she said, still chuckling.

Brock smiled. "Let's say it comes with the job. Anyway, none of them is a match for you."

"Oh?"

"C'mon, Gillian. You know your glare is even worse than the laser scope in Morris' eyes."

"My glare?" She loved his unexpected attempt at humor. It was a complete first, and she wasn't about to let go. "But there's no way my glare can beat your scowl, sir. Like, never!" She laughed when his reaction was a scowl. "See? That's your 'beg your pardon?' scowl!"

Brock's eyebrows wriggled, because that was exactly what he was about to say. Gillian shook her head, laughing louder.

"That's what makes people think you're scary. They think you're always about to scold them! They don't realize you have a scowl for every situation!"

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Do I?"

Gillian let out a funny mix of laughter and scoff. "C'mon, sir! You know you do! You've got the thoughtful scowl, the questioning scowl, the proper-fed scowl, the you're-an-idiot scowl, the focused scowl, the angry scowl, the worried scowl. You even have the yessir scowl and the no-sir scowl!" she chuckled, pointing at his face. "Oh! And that's the italized, underlined 'what!?' scowl And I could tell five or six more of your trademark scowls!"

Brock scoffed, looking down. He sipped his tea not to laugh along with her. Also to hide he was actually at the brink of blushing. Later on, back home on his own, he wouldn't fight a warm smile at recalling Gillian's list.

Andrea had commented once about his habit to frown too much-acquired after Georgia's death. His daughter didn't like it. She said it made him look always angry. So she tried to make him smile whenever she saw him scowl. Her average rate of success was about 200%.

He didn't think Gillian was right and he had 'a different scowl for every situation'. It was just that she knew him better than she thought-much more than he ever expected or even liked-so she was always able to understand what was behind his furrowed brow. Which was awkward, but definitely sweet of her.

Still in Gillian's kitchen, while she swallowed one last chuckle, he was glad to see her laugh and distracted from the case-even if it was to make fun of him.

Brock was startled when she stiffened and turned to the stairs with a slight frown.

"T?" she asked.

Only now Brock heard the light footsteps down the stairs. Tanya came into the family room and approached the bar with Gillian's tablet and an apologetic grimace.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," she said. "I had to wait for my party to gear up, so I started reading the blog I found."

"Irene's blog," said Brock.

"Yeah."

"What is it, T?" Gillian asked when the girl kept quiet.

"You should read it, Reg." Tanya's chin pointed at the tablet as she gave it to Gillian. "Actually, you should both read it."

"T..."

"Just... take a look at it, okay? I gotta go back to battle."