by Tamie Dearen
Table of Contents
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
From the Author
Her Best Match (Excerpt)
The Best Is Yet to Come
Prequel and Adjunct to
The Best Girls Series
Tamie Dearen
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author. To the extent any real names of individuals, locations, businesses or organizations are included in the book, they are used fictitiously and not intended to be taken otherwise.
The Best Is Yet to Come
by Tamie Dearen
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means now known or hereafter invented, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
Copyright © 2013 Tamie Dearen
Introduction
Once upon a time in New York City, there lived a rich and handsome prince. He worked hard every day, accumulating more and more gold for his kingdom. But when he stopped to survey his wealth and accomplishments, he always felt a sense of emptiness. His grandmother, the queen, knew the prince would never feel complete until he found his one-and-only, always-meant-to-be, lovely, delicate-but-strong-enough-to-stand-up-to-him princess. Although he had attended many balls, he had never discovered his Cinderella. By the time the prince had reached the ripe old-age of fifty, he had given up hope of locating her, and he had resolved to live alone forever with only his gold to keep him company. But the queen grandmother believed in fairy tales and happy endings and refused to accept her prince grandson would be forever cursed to live without knowing true love with his beautiful princess. And so, she meddled in his life...
Chapter One
Steven was in the zone, pushing his body to its limit. Sweat was glistening on his bare chest, dripping from his face. At the end of a two-hour ride on his training cycle, he reveled in forcing his body to submit, despite the pain and fatigue. As the tone sounded, indicating he’d met his goal, he exited the bike, toweling off while his heartbeat gradually slowed to normal.
He noted a number of surreptitious appreciative looks from various females working out near him, all of them at least fifteen years his junior. He knew he was in remarkable shape for a forty-nine-year-old. Like everything in his life, his approach to exercise was total discipline. He was careful with his diet, kept alcohol to a minimum and exercised five days per week. Six months of every year his training became more intense as he prepared for the Ironman competition. As a result, his six-foot-three frame sported broad shoulders with a tapered waist, every muscle sculpted from a variety of training, including running, swimming, cycling, and climbing.
In the elevator his cell phone vibrated, and he fumbled with his gear to answer it, knowing his friend would panic if he failed to answer. “Hey, Gary. I’m on my way up to the apartment to shower, and then I’ll be ready to go.”
“Great! Pick me up at nine? The grand opening is at twelve, but the ribbon-cutting is at ten. And thanks to you, there’ll be plenty of press-coverage.”
“Just doing my part, buddy.”
“I’m still pretty nervous. I know it’s not much to you, Gherring, but I’ve sunk everything I’ve got into this climbing gym.”
“Come on, Gary. I’ve never made a bad investment. I wouldn’t be putting my money into Climbing High if I weren’t positive of the outcome. Quit worrying so much.”
He laughed. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes, and you can give me a pep-talk on the way. Oh, and my fiancée will be there, of course.”
“You mean, my personal executive assistant, Ms. Carson.”
“Not for long,” Gary reminded him. “She says you still haven’t hired a replacement, despite having two rounds of interviews.”
“There weren’t any good candidates.” Irritation crept into his voice, despite his efforts to keep it hidden. “It’d be much easier if Ms. Carson kept working for me and we found a secretary for you at the gym.”
“Steven... It’s not happening. Katie’s coming to work with me at the gym as soon as we get married, whether or not you find a new executive assistant.”
“This is the thanks I get for introducing you to her?”
“I refuse to feel sorry for you. You own Gherring Inc. You’re a billionaire. You can afford to hire any executive assistant you want.”
“I don’t want a new assistant.”
“Okay, Gherring. That’s the problem. You hate that for once in your life you’re not getting exactly what you want.”
Steven knew it was partially true. He liked controlling every detail of his life. He needed control. He seldom met a challenge he couldn’t bend to his will. But the truth was he enjoyed the challenge. He liked the stimulation of conflict and competition. But he also liked winning.
“We’ll see,” he said, dismissing Gary’s argument. “I need to take a shower now. We can talk about our options later.”
“Gherring!” Gary’s voice was annoyed. “This is not open for discussion.”
“Sorry, gotta go,” Steven said, disconnecting the call. He smiled to himself. Surely he could talk Katie into remaining at Gherring Inc. as his executive assistant. Maybe if he offered another raise. He had no intention of giving in on this one, even though Gary was his best friend. He planned to win, and he never failed.
As Gary predicted, a huge crowd had gathered in front of Climbing High, including a fair number of the press corps. Gherring was accustomed to media attention. It seemed the public was always enamored with news of the dashing billionaire’s activities, no matter how mundane. But this event had attracted the mainstream media due to the presence of other important officials, including the mayor of New York City, and Alicia Esparza, a rising young prosecutor who was currently running for District Attorney.
Gherring felt a touch on his arm and turned to see Alicia sliding in beside him, her hand nestling in the crook of his elbow.
“Good morning, Steven.” She flashed a smile toward the multitude of cameras.
“Morning.” Gherring gazed out toward the crowd even as he spoke from the corner of his mouth to the woman at his side. She was tall, standing only a few inches shorter than him in her four-inch heels. Her glistening long, almost black hair, framed huge exotic tawny eyes. Her sleek movements were almost feline in nature. She was also smart, driven, cold and calculating. With her fearless confidence, she would no doubt flourish in politics. At the age of thirty-two she was already a rising star in the New York City political machine.
“How are the polls?” he asked. “Have you taken the lead over Hastings yet?”
“Not yet.” Her eyes never left the cameras. “But I have a plan.”
Now she turned an adoring expression his way. “Are you going to the benefit for Mercy General Hospital tonight?”
“You know I am. It’s my fundraiser. But I’m escorting someone else tonight. My publicist always arranges those things for me.” He glanced at her and laughed. “Is that look for me or for the cameras? Are you trying to start a rumor we’re having some sort of affair?”
“Maybe I’d like it to be more than a rumor.” She put on a pretty pout. “And I talked to your publicist, but it seems you have some sort o
f silly rule against escorting the same woman to more than one event.”
“Yes. I’ve found that works best. A second appearance with a single woman leads to speculation and false expectations.”
“I totally understand, but I have a proposition for you.” Her smile was dazzling.
“I don’t think I’m interested.” He kept his voice bland, refusing to rise to her bait.
“And I think you’re lying. I think you’re intrigued. You’re at least interested in hearing what I have to say, even if you decide to turn me down.”
He considered this idea for a moment. “Perhaps I’m curious enough to listen to what you have to say. But know this... I will turn you down.” He pinned her with his most chilling stare, but she didn’t flinch. Her inscrutable expression fascinated him.
“We are so much alike, you and I.” She glanced at the cameras again and then turned her head to kiss him on the cheek. He barely managed not to draw back.
“I’ll talk to you tonight.” She chuckled as she slipped away to talk to the mayor.
Gherring hated these black-tie events, but at least tonight’s fundraiser was for a cause he cherished—a new children’s wing at the hospital. Although he detested the necessity for attending, he was completely in his element, making speeches, shaking hands, hobnobbing with the socially elite and powerful. Even as he mixed and mingled with the rich and influential, he knew he couldn’t relate to anyone present. He was likely the wealthiest person at the event, yet he didn’t really care about the power and prestige that came with that affluence. He never socialized with any of these people outside of public events. He had no interest in climbing social ladders or attaining political influence.
On the other hand, he did enjoy the luxuries his money afforded and the adrenaline rush associated with competition. But his business had grown to the point where he seldom had any true challenges at work. He found himself relishing the rare moments when he encountered someone who didn’t bow easily to his intentions. He seldom met anyone who would stand up to him, thus he was curious to hear Alicia Esparza’s proposition.
He glanced at the girl on his arm. She was tall and pencil-thin with straight blond hair. A model whose popularity was climbing, she wore her fashionable dress with confidence. She was incredibly attractive—stunning, in fact. Until she spoke.
“Ste—ven,” she gushed. “This is sooooo nice. And it’s sooooo nice that you’re raising money for the children’s home.”
“You mean the children’s wing.”
“Oh yeah! The children’s wing. What exactly is it for? I mean, like, are there going to be children living there?”
“It’s a treatment center at Mercy General Hospital.” He glanced at his watch… Fifteen minutes—the night had just begun, and he was already losing patience with his uninspiring escort. “Excuse me. I see someone I need to speak with.”
He abandoned her with relief, crossing the room to join the small group surrounding Alicia, who was speaking with fervent animated gestures. On his approach, the circle opened, allowing him a respectful space.
Alicia lifted a brow in his direction as she finished her tirade and made an excuse to speak with Gherring. “Where’s your date?” she asked, taking his arm and leading him away from the crowd. “What’s her name again?”
“Darian,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “She’s over there, flirting with the paparazzi.”
“What’s her last name?”
“Darian.” A wry smile slipped onto his face. “She told me her name was just Darian. She said she was like Madonna. She only has one name.”
“Uhmm,” she said, noncommittally. “Sounds like a real winner. I can certainly see why you’d want to come with her rather than risk being seen with me again.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll admit this time my publicist’s choice was less than optimal. She’s... she’s a bit...”
“Vapid?”
“Yes, that’s the word. But still, my policy affords the protection I need, if not always the optimal companion for these tedious events.”
She stopped walking as they reached a secluded alcove. “Ah, yes! Your policy... That’s what I want to speak to you about. I want you to consider, uhmm, suspending your policy for a bit. I think it could be to our mutual advantage.”
“I’m listening,” he said, all of his defenses on high alert.
“My campaign manager informed me that settling down with someone respectable might be enough to swing the election for me.” She paused for effect, “And I think you and I would make a great couple.”
He laughed—he had to admire her audacity. “I’m not sure I qualify for respectable. And what exactly do you mean by ‘settle down’?”
“Well, that’s open for discussion. For starters, go with me to the Black and White Charity Ball next Saturday night. And before you tell me you’ve already got a date... Just call your publicist and have them cancel with whatever insipid girl he’s arranged an escort.”
“The next one might not be insipid. Didn’t he make the arrangements for me to escort you to the American Cancer Society banquet?”
“So, he got lucky one time,” she quipped. “Wouldn’t you rather have a sure thing?”
“What’s in it for me?”
She smiled, squeezing herself against his arm. “Surely, we could make our evening mutually beneficial,” she said, deepening the innuendo with her suggestive tone.
“An interesting offer… And I hope you won’t be offended when I turn you down. But I don’t need to change my policy to find someone to warm my bed.”
In truth, it had been some time since any woman had interested him enough to risk the repercussions, but that wasn’t her business.
“Before you say no, consider all the possible benefits. Consider I’d be a good long-term partner.” Her intense gaze burned into his eyes. “I’ll be honest with you. The DA position is just a springboard for me. I have much higher aspirations. Together, we would be a daunting couple. Your money and influence, my talent and charisma! Plus...” When she continued her voice was husky, “I could keep you very satisfied in the bedroom, and our progeny would be both beautiful and intelligent.”
Steven smiled in spite of himself. “And I thought no one was as impudent as I. That’s quite a step from an evening at the ball.”
“So, you’ll consider my proposal?”
He hesitated. She was smart and attractive. He examined her attributes with undisguised appraisal, while she smiled without embarrassment. Yes, she was extremely attractive. Most men would jump at such an offer from a woman like her. But there was no spark, no thrill at the touch of her hand. Still... How much longer should he delay, waiting for some woman who was probably non-existent? For more years than he could remember, he’d dated one beautiful woman after another. But none had held his interest for more than a few weeks. Now, at almost fifty years of age, he found himself alone, with no prospects, still waiting for a relationship that would stimulate him as much as the challenge of turning Gherring Inc. into a multi-billion-dollar company.
“I’ll go to the ball with you.” He crossed his arms. “That’s all I’m promising.”
“Look, Steven. It’s the end of September now, and the election is in November. What if we just went to all the obligatory functions together until after the election? I’ll make it worth your while.” She gazed up through her lashes, her lips half-parted, full and inviting.
“I’ll go to the Black and White Ball with you next weekend. That’s it. Take it or leave it.”
“But you’ll think about the rest?”
A sigh escaped. “I’ll think about it.”
Her smile was radiant. “Steven Gherring... We’re going to make beautiful music together.”
Chapter Two
“Happy Birthday!” said Gram, as she arrived at Steven’s office door. “Where are you taking me to lunch?”
Steven shook his head ruefully at the diminutive gray-haired dynamo that was his ninety-five-yea
r-old grandmother. “Gram, I have work to do. I can’t just leave right now.”
“Certainly you can. What will happen? Will your boss fire you?”
He chuckled. “I just might fire myself if I mess up this deal at a critical time.”
“Your deal can wait,” she said in a firm, no-nonsense tone. “I’m hungry now. And we have things to talk about.”
Gherring was already rising from his desk to follow her, surrendering to her inescapable persistence.
“Anyway, it’s your birthday. You knew I was coming,” she complained, walking briskly out of his office. He followed her obediently onto the elevator, nodding to Katie as he passed her desk.
“But I thought you were coming for dinner. You surprised me, showing up early.”
“Well, this is a very important birthday. Your fiftieth. Half a century. More than half of your life is over.”
“Thanks Gram.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm that crept into his tone. “You sure know how to cheer a guy up.”
“The critical point is you still don’t have a wife.”
“Gram. It’s my birthday. Please don’t start with that.”
“I’m ninety-five years old. I don’t have much time left in this world, and—”
“I know,” he pre-empted her oft-repeated line. “You refuse to die before I get married. Gram, you may just have to live forever.”
“No. I’ve decided you’ve had enough time to find a wife on your own. I’m going to find one for you.”
“Gram!” he growled, towering over her five-foot frame. “You’d better not try to interfere.”
Unimpressed, she glared up at him with her arms crossed. “You’ve left me no choice.” The elevator opened, and she marched toward the lobby doors, forcing him to trail behind her.
