by Tamie Dearen
“Will you be willing to associate with us poor Texas folk?”
“Yes, don’t worry… I’ll always remember the little people in my life.”
Anne climbed out of bed and made the decision to head to the gym upstairs and go for a run. She usually went early in the morning or right after work, but she’d been so busy she’d only run twice that week. She was tired, but she knew she’d feel better after a quick workout. She loved running on the treadmills that faced the picture windows overlooking the busy street.
She pulled her still-curly hair into a ponytail and headed up the elevator, surprised to find the gym was busy on a Saturday afternoon. Every treadmill was occupied when she walked in, so she walked by, trying to peek at the distances to guess if someone might be finishing soon. She found a good prospect, a treadmill on the left end that already had ten miles clocked. The occupant was shirtless and glistening with sweat, but still keeping a nice pace. Surely he wouldn’t run much further. She watched him run, admiring the easy stride. He was tanned and well-built, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. There was no extra fat on his body, so she could see his muscles flexing as he ran.
She glanced down at the other runners, but no one seemed to show signs of cooling down. Finally, the treadmill to her right stopped, and the woman relinquished her spot to Anne. She quickly climbed on and pressed start for a manual program, wondering if she could match paces with the long-distance runner on her left. She casually looked at the man’s pace and saw it was set at a six-minute pace. Wow—she could run an eight-minute pace on a good day. Who could run that far at that pace?
Only then did she glance at his face. Of course, it was Steven Gherring. Why was she not surprised? The one person she was most embarrassed to see, the one who thought she’d spent the night with Henri, who surely hadn’t already called him to correct his misconception.
It seemed he hadn’t noticed her. Maybe she could slip away and run later in the day. She turned the machine off and stepped down.
“Is your treadmill not working?”
Of course, he saw me. Why do I have the worst luck in the world?
Gherring slowed his machine to a walk and continued the conversation without looking her direction.
“I suppose this means Henri is gone,” he said in a flat emotionless voice.
“If you mean ‘gone’ as in, gone to Paris, he left at ten a.m. If you mean ‘gone’ as in, left my apartment, that happened last night.” She drummed up an indignant glare. “I know what you think, but you’re wrong about what happened. I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t sleep around.”
“I don’t think you’re that kind of girl. I think Henri’s that kind of man.”
“But it takes two to tango. You still thought I was easy.”
“I thought what he wanted me to think. And with good reason. And he was there. With you. And you had that dress on. Women can’t resist him.”
“I resisted him. Even though I had on that dress,” she spit out sarcastically. She started her treadmill again, going faster than her normal pace, fueled by anger and frustration.
Gherring stood watching her silently. He looked like he had more to say, but instead he moved on to the free weights. Anne finished her run and gathered her things to leave. When she stopped for a drink of water, Gherring came beside her.
“I’m sorry.”
One look at his sincere face, and her anger melted. “It’s okay, I was just embarrassed. I even made Henri promise to tell you the truth.”
Gherring nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, I just found a text from him. He said he wants me to know he slept in his own room last night, because he would never take advantage of his angel.”
“Okay. Let’s promise not to talk about it anymore. So embarrassing. But I have a question… You ran like twelve miles at a six-minute pace? Are you a marathon runner?”
“I do the Iron Man Competition.”
No wonder he had that amazing body. “Where do you ride? Where do you swim?”
“I have a nice bike trainer up in the apartment, and I swim at a YMCA not far from here. When I have time, I prefer training outside.”
“Have you ever won?”
Gherring chuckled. “No, I’ve never won. Well, I’ve won my age division, but that doesn’t count.”
Anne shook her head. “I don’t see how you find the time to train.”
“It’s pretty easy when you don’t have any obligations outside of work and a few required social events. And honestly, I don’t sleep all that much.”
Anne felt a pang of sympathy. She’d forgotten how alone Steven Gherring was. She had to find a match for this man. He really was sweet, even if he was a little controlling of her personal life. If he had a wife, he wouldn’t worry so much about his PA. “I think it’s pretty amazing you do Iron Man competitions,” she declared with a smile.
“It’s just a hobby,” Gherring said, but he looked pleased. And he hadn’t bothered to put his shirt back on either, not that Anne was complaining.
Saturday afternoon found Anne down at Binding Books, the small bookstore where she knew Ellen worked. She’d run into the girl two more times since the first day they’d met on the subway, and she’d seemed starved for the older-sister companionship she found in Anne. They’d agreed to meet for a late lunch on Saturday. Anne found Ellen in the back of the small store, sorting through some used books.
“Anne.” Ellen’s eyes lit up. “Let me tell my boss I’m taking lunch. I’ve got so much to tell you.”
“I love your store, and Emily will really love this place. I’ll have to bring the girls here when they come next weekend. You’ve even got rare books. Awesome.”
“Yep, it’s pretty cool. But I’m hoping I won’t have to work here forever.”
As they walked out of the store and down the street toward a small pizza place, Ellen bubbled with excitement. “I got a part in a play! I have the lead role—I’m Jane and the play is called Rainbow Junction. It’s way, way, way off Broadway. Really low budget. But it’s a start. And if we get noticed and get some publicity, then we could maybe move closer to Broadway. It’s a musical, so I get to sing. And the music is great.”
“I’m so happy for you. Congratulations. When does it start?”
“We rehearse a lot for the next five weeks, and then we’re on. Actually, the rest of the group has been rehearsing already, but their lead got diagnosed with vocal nodes and had to quit suddenly. They didn’t have an understudy, so they had new tryouts for the role, and I got it.”
“Wow, that’s great. I knew you could do it.”
“Ha! You’ve never even seen me act or heard me sing.”
“Yes, but I’ve been told I can see deep into your soul.” Anne laughed.
“And who told you that?”
“Henri told me. He’s such a flirt.”
“Is that the cute French guy you met on Monday?”
“Yes, but a lot has happened since then. Last night he took me to this big gala Gherring Inc. throws every year. In fact, there were reporters at the party last night. I bet the society page has his picture. You won’t believe what a hunk this guy is. I can’t even believe he asked me to go.”
Ellen took out her iPad and pulled up the society report. “Let’s see… Friday night. Okay, it mentions the gala… Let’s look at the pictures. What does he look like?”
“Dark hair, green eyes, and hot,” said Anne.
“Wow!” cried Ellen. “Here’s your picture.”
“My picture? Me and Henri?”
“The first one is you with Steven Gherring. The second one is you with some other hottie—must be Henri. He is gorgeous.” Ellen licked her lips.
“That picture with Gherring must be from Tuesday night. Why is it in today’s report? Let me see…”
Ellen read aloud. “The caption says, ‘Desolated by Steven Gherring, Anne—the Angel from Texas—lands in the arms of Henri DuBois.’” She turned to look at Anne. “Honey, you’ve got som
e explaining to do.”
“Jeepers! Is there anything written about us in the article?”
“Hmmm, let’s see…” Ellen searched the article. “Yep, here it is. Henri DuBois, one of France’s most sought-after bachelors, announced his date for the evening was ‘Anne, my angel from Texas.’ The mystery angel may have fallen from the arms of Steven Gherring, with whom she was seen earlier in the week at the Gershwin Theater.”
“Oh no! I can’t believe they put that in the report. I hope Mr. Gherring doesn’t read the society section. He’ll be sooooo ticked.”
“So now you’re a player? Tuesday night with Steven Gherring and Friday night with this Henri guy? I mean, not that I blame you.”
“No, no, no! It’s not like that at all. I was never with Gherring. We were at the same play but we didn’t go together. We went together, but we weren’t together- together. We didn’t even sit together in the first half. They just took that picture that made it look like we were together.”
“Yeah, right.” Disbelief was written all over her face.
“I mean, really. You know Steven Gherring wouldn’t actually go out with his hick PA from Texas.”
“This Henri guy from France didn’t seem to mind you were a hick PA from Texas.”
“Henri has less discriminating taste, I think. He’s probably dated half of the women in New York.”
“So you didn’t actually go out with Steven Gherring?”
“No, I didn’t. He really doesn’t date much at all. And I think he spends too much time alone. I’ve decided to find someone for him.”
“You’re going to find a girl for Steven Gherring?” Ellen stuck her hand up. “I volunteer.”
“Actually, that’s not such a bad idea.”
Ellen giggled. “I’ll agree to date Steven Gherring as soon as he asks me out or as soon as hell freezes over, whichever one comes first.”
Anne arrived at the office early on Monday, determined to be impressive in her work ethic, just in case Steven Gherring had seen the social column. She’d hate to lose her job over a bit of gossip. Perhaps if she worked really hard, he’d forgive her the embarrassment she’d caused him. He arrived shortly afterward, when she was already engrossed in her work.
“Good morning, Ms. Best,” Gherring swept past her desk. Anne returned the greeting, anxious to assess his mood, but Gherring disappeared into his office without another word. Anne fretted all morning, but he never reappeared. He hadn’t mentioned the first picture from Wednesday’s post, so perhaps he wasn’t the type who followed social media. Maybe she was worrying about nothing.
“And who are you?”
Anne looked up in surprise at the diminutive, white-haired woman with the piercing blue eyes who stood on the other side of the desk, examining her with a stern expression. Anne recognized Gherring’s grandmother from the picture on his desk, but she was intimidating in person. Anne found her mouth too dry to get any words out.
“Speak up, girl! I’m a bit deaf.”
“I’m just Anne.” Her voice came out raspy. She swallowed and raised her voice. “I’m Mr. Gherring’s PA.”
“No need to yell, honey. Do you want to wake the dead?”
“What? No. I mean, no ma’am.” Anne felt like she was back in elementary school, being scolded by her teacher.
“PA?”
“Personal Assistant. I take care of anything he needs done.”
“And do you always do what he says to do?”
“Most of the time. Except when he doesn’t know what’s good for him.”
Did I say that out loud?
A furrow appeared between her thick white eyebrows.
“Mrs. Gherring, please don’t tell him I said that.” Anne stood up, pleading words gushing out. “He’ll fire me for sure. I’m just here on a three-month trial. I really do respect him. I promise I do. I don’t know why I said that.”
The office doors opened and Steven Gherring appeared. A stone dropped into the pit of Anne’s belly. It was too late.
“Gram!” Steven exclaimed with more enthusiasm than Anne had ever observed from the prim and proper businessman. “I didn’t know you were coming. Why didn’t you tell me when we talked last night?”
“It was a last-minute decision.” Gram returned the vigorous hug to her grandson who stooped to greet her. “I decided I needed to check up on you.”
Gherring’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “Really? You’re here on a spy mission?”
“Yes, I am, and I’ve found my inside source.”
Standing at her desk in terrified silence, Anne winced as Mrs. Gherring’s sharp gaze came to rest on her and Gherring’s smile disappeared.
“Anne and I are going to lunch.” Gram marched to Anne’s side, her surprisingly strong fingers grasping her elbow.
“But Gram, we always do lunch together when you come to the city.” Gherring’s hands were on his hips.
“I’ll be yours for the entire afternoon and evening, Steven dear. But Anne and I have a lot to discuss.”
With that pronouncement, Gram tugged Anne toward the elevator. “Come along, dear. I promise I won’t bite.”
Anne didn’t turn to look back at Gherring, but she felt his glare burning into her back. Inside the elevator, Anne ventured a sidelong glance at the small woman with the commanding presence. “Mr. Gherring seemed upset. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Gram ignored the question. “Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? I know that’s a southern accent I heard.”
Anne took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She had to control herself when talking to Mrs. Gherring. Everything would be reported to her grandson. Her job was on the line. “Mrs. Gherring…”
“Call me Gram. Mrs. Gherring is the name of my grandson’s wife.” Her tone discouraged Anne from disagreeing.
“But I thought Mr. Gherring wasn’t married. He has a wife?”
“Not yet, but I certainly intend for him to have one. He’s been dragging his heels way too long. He needs a wife.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Gram’s eyebrows flew up. “Really?”
“I don’t mean me.” Anne felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. “I’ve been trying to find someone for him. He seems so lonely, and I know he’d be so much happier if he shared his life with the right woman. I know, because I had a wonderful, happy marriage myself until my husband died.”
“And you’re not the right woman?”
“Of course not!” If her face got any hotter it would catch on fire. “I know his preferences. Young, smart, sophisticated. Not me, for sure. But he also needs someone who’s sensitive and caring and not self-centered.”
“And you’ve found the right woman for Steven?”
“I’m trying, but he’s not very cooperative. He seems determined to keep everyone at arm’s length. I introduced him to one woman with the right traits, but he didn’t seem the least bit interested.”
“Hmmm…” Gram was silent for several thoughtful moments. The elevator opened and she strode so quickly toward the street doors Anne had trouble keeping up in high heels. Gram led the way to the diner next door where, to Anne’s surprise, she exchanged hugs with Papa and May. The two of them were quickly led to a private booth in the back of the restaurant.
As soon as they were seated, Gram fixed Anne with an intense gaze. “I must say we seem to be mostly in agreement about what my grandson needs. Perhaps we can work together to help Steven find his true love.”
“Maybe, but I can’t let him find out or I might lose my job.”
“It’ll be our little secret.”
Anne tried vainly to stop her hands from trembling as she took a drink of water.
“You were telling me about your daughters?”
“Did I say I had daughters?”
“Humph! I thought you said that. So you don’t have daughters?”
“No, I do. I just—”
“So why don�
��t you want to talk about them? Are you ashamed of them?”
“No, I just—”
“Fine, we can start with why you moved to New York City…”
Gram proceeded to question Anne about every aspect of her life. It was like being interviewed for the FBI. She quizzed her about her home and her family in Texas, her marriage, her children, her education, her hobbies, and even her dog.
“You’ve barely touched your food, dear,” Gram noted.
Anne wondered how she could possibly have eaten while answering the barrage of questions, but she simply nodded assent and forked a mouthful of meatloaf into her mouth.
“Do you miss your girls?” Gram asked.
Anne forgot her nerves when she thought about her daughters. “I do. But they’re coming on Friday for the whole weekend.”
“That’s wonderful, dear. The three of you should come to dinner while they’re here.”
“Will you be in New York City this weekend? I thought you lived a few hours away from here.”
“Yes, but I still keep the home here in the city. I was planning on a short visit, but now I think I may stay for a while. That way you and I can work on getting my grandson together with the perfect woman. You see, I intend to see him happily married before I die, but I don’t have much time left.”
“Oh no! Do you have a health problem?”
“No dear, I’m perfectly healthy. But I’m ninety-five years old. I’ve got one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. I’ve got to work fast.”
Anne chuckled. “You haven’t lost your sense of humor yet.”
“Yes, but this is serious business. I’ve been at this for a while. Steven doesn’t have the best judgment when it comes to women. I’ve tried to encourage him to date more, but he refuses to get close to anyone. And since he broke off his engagement with Michelle, he’s been even more withdrawn. It’s been more than five years, and he just can’t seem to get over it. I’m sure it’s because of his past.”