Her Best Match: A Romantic Comedy (The Best Girls Book 1)

by Tamie Dearen

  “Sorry sister. I look best in this photo. It’ll be my new profile picture.”

  “No way—I’m deleting it when you aren’t looking.”

  “Why didn’t I have boys?” complained Anne.

  “Mom, don’t say that. You know you wouldn’t have as much fun with sons,” said Emily.

  “Yeah Mom. And think how silly you’d look wearing our clothes if we’d been boys.”

  “And if we were boys, then when we got married, we’d always go spend holidays with our wives’ families.”

  “And we wouldn’t read all the good books with you and discuss them afterward.”

  “And we wouldn’t be able to give you fashion advice.”

  “And—”

  “Stop, stop,” laughed Anne. “You win. I’m glad you’re girls. At least most of the time.”

  At the top of the Empire State Building, Charlie got serious with her photography.

  “Charlie, you’ve taken enough pictures. Surely you’ve used up all your memory by now,” said Emily.

  “No, I’ve got room for five hundred more pictures.”

  “You’re so busy taking pictures you’re missing the experience,” said Emily. “It’s romantic, like Sleepless in Seattle.”

  “Oh really? Maybe I should call Spencer and ask him to join us,” Charlie teased. “He’d probably be willing to take the stairs up here if he got to see you again.”

  “He doesn’t like me. He’s just flirting.”

  “Ohmygosh, Em! The boy asked questions about your boring accounting job for an hour. No guy would suffer like that on purpose unless he’d seriously flipped for a girl.”

  “He’s hasn’t flipped for me. We live fourteen hundred miles apart. It’s not like he’s planning to come visit.”

  “He didn’t mention seeing you the next time you visit Mom?”

  “Yes, but Mom’s only here on a trial basis.”

  “Hey, that’s not nice,” said Anne.

  “Sorry, Mom. I just wanted to shift her attention off me.”

  “She’s right, Mom. You’re the one with some crazy-hot French guy with dreamy green eyes, who’s willing to fly you to Paris just so he can see you. One would almost think he’s expecting more than a kiss this time.”

  “Tell me again,” said Anne. “Why am I glad I had girls?”

  Gram sent a limousine to pick up Anne and the girls at the apartment at five thirty. Anne’s heart fell when she realized Steven Gherring was not going with them. He’d never said he’d be there, but she must have secretly hoped. Then she scolded herself. Why did it matter whether Steven Gherring was with them on Sunday at Gram’s dinner? She would see him Monday at work. That was better. It would remind her Gherring was her boss and nothing more. Plus, with Gherring absent from the dinner, it would be easier to conspire with Gram about their matchmaking efforts. She needed Gherring to find a wife—the sooner, the better.

  The ride to the Gherring Estate was thirty minutes along the Hudson River to Yonkers. As they drove up to the two-story mansion at the top of the hill, they could see the lights twinkling a warm welcome in the courtyard. Anne counted four chimneys on the rooftop.

  Charlie exclaimed, “This place is ginormous!”

  “Mom, did you know she lived in a place like this?” asked Emily.

  “I had no idea, but I suppose I should have guessed.”

  Gram met them at the entry that opened into a huge main hall with an enormous grand staircase off to the left. Their footsteps echoed in the hall as they followed Gram across the marble floor.

  “Come this way. We’ll sit in the library and chat until dinner is ready.”

  The expansive library was lit with two large chandeliers that hung from an elaborately coved and painted ceiling. The twelve-foot walls were covered on each side from floor to ceiling with bookcases filled to capacity. The bookshelves even extended over the doorway. A seating area beckoned in front of a roaring fire in an ornate stone fireplace.

  “Emily, Charlotte, this is Mrs. Gherring. And this is Emily, the oldest, and Charlotte.”

  “I’m Gram! I’ve told your mother already that Mrs. Gherring is the name of my grandson’s wife.” The girls exchanged confused looks, and Gram chuckled. “I always say that. Love to see people’s reactions. You know, they think I might be senile and maybe I don’t know my grandson is still single.”

  “We’re working together, Gram and I, to find a ‘Mrs. Gherring’ for Mr. Gherring.”

  “Ah ha!” said Charlie.

  “Emily?” Gram asked, shifting her attention to the other Best daughter who’d turned her head to study the walls of books. She quickly forced her eyes back to the short woman with the commanding voice.

  “Yes ma’am?”

  “I can see you’re dying to peruse the book collection. Go ahead. I’ll just grill your sister for a while.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Emily flashed a smirk at her sister and hurried to survey the books.

  “So your name is Charlotte?”

  “Actually, I go by Charlie.”

  “Charlie, huh? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

  “Well, I just think Charlotte sounds kind of weak. And I’m not a weak person.”

  “Hmmm, and I’m betting you like to compete with boys a lot.”

  “I don’t compete with ‘em… I beat ‘em.”

  “Ha! That’s my girl. I would’ve been just like you in my day, if I’d had the opportunity.”

  Anne pictured Gram as a modern day twenty-one year old, and laughed. She knew Gram’s small size would never have prevented her from being a daunting adversary.

  “Thanks, Gram. I hope I turn out just like you when I’m a grandmother.”

  “What do you do, Charlie?”

  “I teach ski lessons in the winter and lead rafting and climbing trips in the summer.”

  “That sounds like fun. Plenty of time to settle down. Not like me. My Samuel swept me off my feet when I was sixteen.”

  “Wow, you got married at sixteen?”

  “Yes, and I had my son, Steven’s father, when I was nineteen.”

  “Our family’s small.” Emily rejoined the group. “Mom and Dad were ‘only children’ and we’ve lost all our grandparents except for Mom’s father. I think maybe that’s why we’re so close. We’re all we’ve got.”

  “And the Best name is dying out now, since we had two girls,” Anne added.

  “I don’t know. I might just keep my maiden name. I can’t imagine a guy that I’d be willing to give up my name for,” said Charlie.

  “Any guy that manages to catch you, with the fight you’ll put up, deserves to have you take his name.” Emily chuckled at her sister’s feigned indignation.

  “Ha-ha, sister. The poor guys can’t even get you to pay attention to them. At least I look at them, over my shoulder, as I leave ‘em in the dust.”

  “It looks like you’ve got plenty of work to do after we get Steven married,” said Gram.

  This broke everyone up, and they were still laughing when a butler came to announce dinner.

  The dining room was so expansive it held three long rectangular tables. Their dinner was set up on one of the tables. As they took their places at the table, Anne noticed a fifth place setting.

  “Dinner is served,” said a familiar voice.

  Steven Gherring appeared, wearing an apron and carrying a soup tureen.

  “You cooked dinner?” Her heart gave a leap of joy at his presence, despite all her self-warnings.

  Gram answered. “Steven is a fantastic chef. And we don’t keep a cook on staff since I’m seldom here anymore.”

  “What’s for dinner?” asked Charlie.

  Gherring smiled. “The first course is lobster bisque.” He set the soup down and headed back to the kitchen.

  “You’re not eating with us?” asked Anne. She kicked herself for sounding so eager.

  “I’ll be back in second. I just need to turn the burner down to simmer.”

  When the kitchen
door closed behind him, Anne turned to Gram. “When are we going to work on our plan? I didn’t know Mr. Gherring would be here.”

  “Steven made me promise not to attempt to set him up with a woman, so I’ll keep my promise. However, I didn’t promise not to help you, so I’ll be your secret consultant—” Gram’s voice dropped abruptly.

  “How’s the soup?” Steven strode back into the dining room.

  “I love lobster bisque—it’s my all-time favorite soup. And this is the best ever. What’s the secret?” asked Emily.

  “A little dry sherry,” he replied. “It’s also got Worcestershire and Tabasco. I can give you the recipe.”

  “Emily loves to cook,” said Anne.

  “Tell me about yourself, Emily. What do you do?” Gram asked.

  “Well I have a Masters degree in Accounting and I’ve already passed my CPA exam. I just need to work another four months and I’ll be certified.”

  Charlie said, “Yep, the family genius.”

  “Maybe I was just the one who actually put forth a little effort in school. Don’t let Charlie fool you, Gram. She’s just as smart as I am. But she never saw the value in studying.”

  “New subject… How did you learn to cook?” Charlie asked.

  “It was that or starve to death,” he laughed. “I guess I could eat out or order in every night. But cooking is a lot more challenging and a lot more satisfying. Although it’s not a lot of fun to cook for one person.”

  Gram cleared her throat. “Yes, it would certainly be nice if you had someone to cook for.”

  Gherring glared. “Gram, we’ve talked about this.”

  “I meant, of course, you could stay out here with me.”

  “Sure Gram, except you’re usually four hours away from here.”

  “You could cook for Anne.”

  Anne felt the heat radiating from her skin. Perhaps she could melt under the table, and no one would notice. The room was deathly silent.

  Gram continued, “You do live downstairs from Steven, don’t you Anne?”

  “Yes, but Mr. Gherring has to deal with me all day, Gram. In the evening I’m sure he needs a break.” She turned a hard stare at Gram. “Besides, if he was with me all the time, when would he have time to date?”

  “You’re quite right, dear. That would be bad. He does need time to date. However will he ever find a wife if he doesn’t date anyone?”

  “Gram! That’s quite enough of talking about me as if I’m not sitting here at the table. We’ve already had this discussion, and you promised—”

  “I did promise not attempt to set you up. But I didn’t promise not to nag you about it. There’s only one way to get me to stop nagging you. Get married.” She paused to pat her lips with her napkin. “Or I guess you can keep waiting for me to die…”

  “Yes I know, Gram. You’re not going to die before I get married. Can we change the subject?” He looked at Charlie and Emily. “You see what I have to put up with?”

  Charlie laughed, but Emily said, “I’d say you’re pretty lucky to have someone who loves you that much.”

  “How can you take her side after that great dinner I bought you last night?” Gherring pretended outrage.

  “I’d be more worried about the dinner tonight, Emily. He could spit in your food,” said Charlie.

  Giggles broke out all around and the mood was lifted again.

  Gherring served a main course of almond crusted salmon with garlic-mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus. Dessert was chocolate mousse.

  “I’ve died and gone to heaven! This meal was even better than last night’s,” said Charlie.

  Gherring beamed at the praise. But Anne had been quiet throughout dinner, trying to settle her thoughts.

  “Did you like the meal?” he asked her.

  “It was amazing.” Her answer was sincere, but she couldn’t make eye contact.

  “I have a little surprise for Charlie.” Gherring stood, walking toward the door.

  “What? Is it a present? What is it?” Charlie leaped to follow him.

  “No, it’s not a present. It’s an experience. Come see.”

  Gherring led the group outside to the garage and opened the door. Inside was a white Maserati MC12. Charlie squealed at the sight.

  “I thought you might want to go for a ride.”

  “Okay, she can go first, but I want a ride too,” said Emily.

  Anne watched as Charlie climbed into the passenger’s seat.

  “Now you won’t go over the speed limit, will you?” Anne asked in her best worried-mom voice.

  “Of course not. Although I’m fairly certain Maserati’s have a different speed limit than the rest of the cars out there.” He chuckled as he started the engine and spun the tires in the driveway before racing to the road.

  “I can’t believe he’s got a Maserati,” said Emily. “This is the best weekend ever. None of our friends will believe it. We’ve got to get pictures. I wish we didn’t have to go home tomorrow.”

  “I’m going to miss you so much.” Anne gave Emily a hug.

  “Why don’t you girls come back here for Thanksgiving? I’d love to have you.”

  “We’ve got to take care of Grandpa at Thanksgiving, because Mom’s going to be in Paris.”

  “Paris! Why are you going to Paris?”

  “She’s going to Paris with this French guy named Henri who’s really crazy about her.”

  “Henri? Henri DuBois?”

  “You know him?” asked Anne.

  “I know him. And he’s not good enough for you.”

  “Gram,” said Anne, “he’s not as bad as you think.”

  Gram’s expression was disapproving, and Anne’s heart fell.

  “Please don’t be mad at me, Gram. He’s been really sweet to me and to the girls.”

  “I know what he was like before. I can’t believe he’s changed that much.”

  “Even Steven found out some of the stuff he thought about Henri wasn’t true at all.”

  “Humph! Well I don’t like him.”

  “It’s not like I’m planning to marry him, Gram. I’m just going to visit him.”

  “Humph!” They stood in uncomfortable silence until Gherring returned to trade passengers. Charlie climbed out of the driver’s seat.

  “He let you drive it?” asked Emily.

  “I made the mistake of saying I would let her drive it if she knew how to drive a manual,” Gherring chuckled. “Who knew she’d actually know how?”

  “And I was pretty good, wasn’t I?”

  “I have to admit, you surprised the h—, the heck out of me.” Gherring looked to see if Gram had noticed his near slip.

  Instead of fussing about his language, she said, “I can’t believe you let Anne associate with the likes of Henri DuBois.”

  Gherring started laughing. “Now you see what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Gram’s disapproval. Perhaps you’ll be more sympathetic in the future.”

  “I suppose you drive a manual as well?” he asked Emily.

  “Of course I do, but I’d rather just enjoy the ride.”

  “I think every girl should know how to drive a stick shift. All three of us drive a manual car at home,” said Anne.

  Gherring shook his head. “You never cease to surprise me.”

  When the Maserati disappeared again, Anne turned to Gram.

  “Please Gram, don’t tell Mr. Gherring about Paris. He doesn’t know.”

  “If you think Henri is so great, why don’t you want Steven to know about Paris?”

  “Because he doesn’t like Henri either, and it just upsets him. But Gram, Henri was a perfect gentleman. He acted like he had a huge crush on me and said a lot of things that made me feel… I don’t know… attractive again. He made me feel special and beautiful. And when he calls me, I feel like I’m really important to him. I’ve just missed that, I guess. And he opened up to me and told me some things about how he’s been hurt—”

  “That’s the real t
hing, Gram,” Charlie butted in. “Mom can’t stand to see anyone hurting. She just melts.”

  She gave her mom a hug. “But I love you for it.”

  “Humph! All right, I won’t tell him. But I think you can do better than Henri DuBois.”

  “He’s pretty handsome though—you have to admit that much.”

  “Handsome is as handsome does,” said Gram.

  “Anyway, I’m not looking for a new husband. I’m happy like I am. I’ve had one great love in my life, just like you. Right, Gram?”

  This time Gram didn’t respond.

  When Emily and Gherring came back, Charlie pulled out her phone and took pictures of them with and in the Maserati. He asked Anne, “Did you want a ride as well?”

  “No, that’s okay—”

  “Come on, Mom. It’s amazing,” said Charlie.

  Emily said, “Mom, if you don’t try it, you’ll never know what it feels like. You’ll probably kick yourself for wasting the chance.”

  He was already climbing in the driver’s seat.

  “I guess I’m going.”

  Charlie leaned in the car and took a picture of Anne and Gherring inside together.

  “Ready?” asked Gherring. Before Anne could answer, he stepped on the gas and sped out of the driveway. Anne couldn’t help a little squeak that came out of her mouth as she felt her back pressed into the seat. Gherring drove a short distance to a turn off on a deserted road that wound around through the hills. As he steered the car skillfully through the twists and turns, Anne found herself with a broad smile plastered on her face. And she couldn’t stop smiling. Watching him control the powerful car, she thought of how strong he was. He handled driving as he did everything else in his life—with expert efficiency and absolute control. It made his masculine appeal even stronger.

  Just for a moment she allowed herself to imagine what it would feel like to kiss Steven Gherring. Would he be soft and gentle, sweet and romantic? Or would he be strong and powerful, taking what belonged to him? Or maybe he would be subtle and teasing, drawing out her fervor until she surrendered her lips to be plundered?

  “You look like you’re really enjoying this,” Gherring commented. Anne felt the blood rising in her cheeks and thanked God the light was dim. He’d caught her enjoying a bit more than a ride in a fast, powerful sports car.