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

by Tamie Dearen

  “No, no. It’s not that I’m not grateful you both lent me so much stuff. Lord knows my wardrobe was pretty sad. But I had to pay for extra luggage, and now I can barely handle everything. Ahhhhkkk!” Anne screamed as her phone fell from its perch, and she dropped her purse. She scrambled to pick up her phone.

  “Emily? Are you still there? Sorry, I dropped the phone. Oh, excuse me sir, let me just get this stuff out of the way.” Anne rolled and pushed her gear next to a pillar. “So Emily, thanks for taking care of Gandalf this weekend. Have you heard from Grandpa?”

  “Yep, he called this morning when he was on the road. But Mom, why is Grandpa coming to take care of Gandalf? Doesn’t Ms. Minnie usually keep him? She loves that dog.”

  “Yes, she does love Gandalf. You know, she really encouraged me to go to this interview, and she was so excited when I got the job. But right now she’s on her honeymoon.”

  “Honeymoon? Ms. Minnie got married? Isn’t she like ninety years old? Who did she marry?”

  “No.” Anne chuckled. “She’s only seventy two, and she married Mr. Greenly. You remember—that sweet old man who works in the garden department at Wal-Mart. I think I told you about him. He always saves me some of the best perennials when they go on sale.”

  “So how did this happen, Mom? Did you have something to do with this? Have you been matchmaking again?”

  “No, I didn’t do anything. Mr. Greenly just happened to come by to give me some advice about my roses when I had invited Ms. Minnie over for tea.”

  “Really?” Emily arched her brows. “Since when did you need advice on your roses? You’ve got the greenest thumb I know.”

  “Well, my Simplicity roses got black spot disease, so I asked him to drop by that morning.”

  “Ah-ha! So you admit you set them up to meet each other.”

  “I might’ve subconsciously asked them to come at the same time, but I knew they were perfect for each other. They’re so sweet; they both love gardening. And they were both widows, and they were both lonely.”

  “Mom, you’re incorrigible,” laughed Emily. “But why haven’t you found a match for me? You must be responsible for at least fifteen weddings already.”

  “You’re so particular—I have to find just the right guy. You’ve refused to even consider the guys I’ve suggested so far.”

  “Really, Mom, I’m just kidding. I’m perfectly happy alone, and I’m not sure there’s anyone out there that’s worth the trouble. Why don’t you make a match for yourself instead?”

  “Oh, no! I had a wonderful husband already and two great daughters. I’m really not interested in romance for myself.”

  “Whatever, Mom. I’m just saying while you’re looking for everyone else, you ought to look for yourself as well. There’re a lot of men in New York.”

  “Oh stop, Emily—don’t tease me. Anyway, I’ve got to get going. I miss you already. Be sure to come visit as soon as you can. I’m so lonely already. Maybe this was a mistake.”

  “Mom, are you getting cold feet again? You know everything will be fine. This is the chance of a lifetime. You’ll be great. You’ll probably get promoted to president of the company.”

  “Ha! I’m sure secretaries get promoted to president all the time.” She chuckled. “I’m just nervous, I guess. But I’ll call as soon as I get to the apartment. Bye, sweetie. Love you.”

  When the taxi dropped her at the apartment building with all her gear, a sharply dressed doorman whisked the door open and quickly relieved her of most of her baggage, leading the way to a comfy reception area.

  “I’m Antonio. Are you moving in? Miss…?”

  “Hi, I’m Anne. Nice to meet you, Antonio. Yes, I just flew in today, and I’m moving in. At least for a while.”

  “That’s great. I’m on duty most of the time, and Randall is the other doorman. It’ll be great having you here. We’re always happy when a beautiful woman moves in.”

  “Oh!” Anne exclaimed, blushing. “You’re so sweet. Do you always say things like that to women who are old enough to be your mother?”

  Antonio laughed. “I only speak the truth. You couldn’t possibly be old enough to be my mother, but I’ve got a thing for older women anyway.”

  When Anne stood speechless and crimson, he had compassion on her. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad—I’ve got a terrible flirting habit. In fact, I’m going to the FA meeting tonight.” He laughed again.

  Suddenly, a door opened behind the desk and a woman emerged, moving quickly and efficiently to greet Anne and begin her check-in process. Anne noticed Antonio was suddenly silent as he watched every move the woman made.

  “Hi Rayna. Nice weather today. Uhmm… I like your new shoes.”

  Rayna was quickly engrossed in her work, typing Anne’s information into the computer, oblivious to Antonio’s words. He backed away awkwardly and returned to the door, glancing over his shoulder. Rayna continued to process Anne’s paperwork, scanning Anne’s license and credit card before handing her a key card.

  “Your room’s on the tenth floor, with a window on the front of the building,” explained Rayna. “It’s one of our nicest efficiency suites.”

  “Thanks so much, Rayna. You’ve been so nice. In fact, everyone has been very nice. Antonio was especially nice. Do y’all usually work at the same time?”

  “Hmmm?” asked Rayna with her eyes glued to her computer.

  “Antonio,” she repeated. “I asked if y’all usually work together. I mean, do y’all work on the same time schedule?”

  “Antonio?” Rayna looked up and blinked in confusion.

  “Yes. You know, Antonio—that incredibly handsome guard at the door. He was so nice and so nice-looking. Wow, if I was only your age, I’d be really interested in him. Oh, but you probably already have a relationship with someone…”

  Rayna stared at Antonio as if she’d never seen him before. “Oh, uh no, I don’t have a relationship. Well, I did have a relationship, but that was six months ago. You know, men are such pigs.”

  “Oh, I know. That’s why I was so surprised at what a nice young man Antonio is. I just wanted you to know, so you could pass it on to the management.”

  “The management,” muttered Rayna, tilting her head as Antonio opened the door and helped an elderly man with an awkward box. She turned back to Anne. “Yes, I’ll certainly tell the management about, uhmm, Antonio.”

  “You know, if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open.” Anne winked.

  “Thanks, Anne. I just might take you up on that offer.”

  Anne ferried her way up the elevator to her room. Once inside with her bags, she moved quickly to the window and opened the blinds. She peered down at the street, slightly off of a main drag, but busy nonetheless. Directly across the street was a beautiful ornate building with the words “The Economist” carved into it. The street sounds were muffled, but she could still see the teaming traffic on the main street, and marveled once again at the hectic pace of the city. Turning from the window, she surveyed her small apartment. The floors were all wood—well it looked like wood, but it was probably a high-end laminate—with nice area rugs. There was a small kitchen area near the door separated from the living area by a bar and three stools. Every surface in the cooking area was gleaming—stainless steel, glass tile, and granite.

  Walking through a door she discovered a small, but beautiful bathroom with a marble shower, dark wood vanity topped with granite, and modern fixtures. Another door led to a large walk-in closet, complete with shelves, drawers and hanging racks. Back in the living area, the bed was covered with a fluffy, white, down comforter and throw pillows in a plethora of colors and textures. Bookshelves housed a few classics, decorative pieces and a flat-screen TV. Situated by the window on a beautiful oriental rug were two chairs and a small loveseat anchored by a round tufted ottoman.

  Anne used the next hour to unpack her suitcases and check out the kitchen. The cooking area was supplied with basic pots and pans. Sh
e found all the necessary basics for cooking in the pantry, and the refrigerator was stocked with eggs, low-fat milk, various cheeses, vanilla Greek yogurt, and blueberries. She realized Katie must have had the groceries purchased specifically for her, recalling some seemingly casual phone conversations discussing her food preferences.

  This attention to detail would soon be her responsibility, and Anne suddenly worried whether she could fill those efficient shoes. Her job at the travel agency had required attention to detail, and her clients relied on her to arrange every facet of their travel. She was accustomed to working out problems and planning for contingencies, but she really didn’t know anything about New York. Could she really manage all the issues she’d be facing in a city that was so foreign to all she knew? A simple grocery-shopping trip would be an adventure in this city. She began to pace and fret, when her cell phone suddenly rang out with the rock riff that signaled Charlie’s call.

  “Hi sweetie.” Anne smiled as she spoke.

  “Hey, Mom. Are you in your apartment? I want to hear all about it. Emily said you hadn’t called since the airport.”

  “Oh, I forgot to call her back. She’ll probably be ticked, but I’ll call her when we hang up. Yep, I’m here, and it’s actually great.”

  “Okay, great. Let’s Skype so you can show me your apartment.”

  “You know I haven’t figured out the Internet around here yet. Knowing me, I’ll need some help. But we can Skype as soon as I work it out. Katie lives in this same building, so she’ll help me out this weekend, I’m sure.”

  “Fine, Mom. Just send me some pictures. What does it look like?”

  “It’s small, but beautiful. Nicely decorated. Tenth floor. There’s a front door guy—like a guard—so I feel pretty safe. His name is Antonio, and he’s very polite.”

  “Ooooo! He sounds handsome and mysterious. Perhaps you can introduce us.”

  “You seem to think my sole purpose here in New York is to find a boyfriend for you.”

  “Well really, Mom, what else could be more important?” quipped Charlie.

  “I’m afraid matchmaking may be the only thing I can accomplish here,” moaned Anne. “I don’t know why I thought I could work here in the city, or work for a big company, or work for someone important. I think I’m going to freak out just trying to use the subway.”

  “Oh, Mom. Do you need another pep talk? You know we’ve already done this about twenty times. You impressed Steven Gherring enough to land this job. That man knows how to spot a winner. Everything he touches turns to gold. If he thinks you can do this job, you can do it.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t sound really sure when he hired me. He’s giving me a three-month trial.”

  “But you told me Katie said you’d really have to mess up badly to get fired, because she’s leaving for good in three months. If he fires you, he won’t have anyone at all. She said he’d interviewed over forty people before he chose you.”

  “I know, I know. You’re right. I think I’ll feel better after my first week at work. Actually, I probably just need some dinner. I’m starving.”

  “Yes, Mom. We all know how cranky you get when you’re hungry. And be sure to have some chocolate for dessert. You’ll feel better for sure.”

  “You’ve got no room to talk, you know.”

  “That’s true, but I inherited it from you.”

  “Okay, I’m going to eat dinner and chocolate, take a long, hot shower, and climb in bed with a good book. Tomorrow, I’ll conquer New York City.”

  “You go, girl! I almost feel sorry for New York.”

  Anne laughed as she hung up the phone. Four o’clock. Too early for dinner. She sat down and glanced through the pamphlet Rayna had given her. She spotted an exercise facility on the amenities. Great. She would check out the gym before eating. She ate a piece of candy for some quick energy and changed into shorts and a tank top. Her kids had vetoed her old exercise clothes as too dated for New York, so she surveyed the more fashionable shorts in the mirror. Wow, these were a little shorter than she would usually wear. Her legs were probably her best feature, and these shorts showed them off—a little too much. The tank top was kind of tight, but it covered everything important. Anyway, she had no other option right now, and knew she wouldn’t have to leave the building. Besides, the gym would likely be empty at four o’clock on a Friday afternoon.

  She pulled her hair into a ponytail, grabbed a small bag and stuffed in her phone, key, and IPod. The pamphlet said the gym was on floor eighteen. She headed out the door and found the elevator and pressed the button, while admiring the huge crown moldings and ornate furnishings that graced the waiting area. She was still studying the beautiful fresh flower arrangement when the elevator doors opened behind her.

  “Ah-hem… Are you getting on?” asked a voice from the elevator.

  Embarrassed, Anne swirled quickly around and rushed through the doorway, her bag swinging out to bump against the lone elevator occupant… Steven Gherring.

  His eyes opened wide, and he rubbed his arm. “Ms. Best, are you attempting to injure me?”

  “I’m so sorry Mr. Gherring. I was just startled, and I didn’t realize my bag would hit you. I didn’t even really see you there. Are you okay…?”

  She stopped in mid-sentence when she realized he was laughing at her. “Oh! You’re not even hurt are you? Although you do seem a bit fragile. Perhaps it’s reasonable to think even a very small thing could cause you immense pain.”

  “Ouch!” he said in mock horror. “Now you’ve really cut me to the quick.”

  He laughed again, and she joined in this time. Then she realized he was dressed in a suit and tie, while she was in shorts. As his eyes strayed to her legs, she was acutely aware of how short those shorts were. She felt her face flush and fought to gain control of the situation.

  “I’m surprised to see you here, Mr. Gherring. Are you checking on your property?”

  “No, Ms. Best. In fact, I live here.”

  “Here? Wow, I bet your apartment’s bigger than mine.” She blushed scarlet as he raised his eyebrows. Why couldn’t she learn not to speak around this man?

  “Is there something wrong with your apartment? Is it too small for your liking?”

  “No, not at all. That’s not what I meant. I, uh, I just meant that I expected you’d live some place really big and fancy since you’re so rich…” She paused, trying to think of something more diplomatic to say, but she failed completely.

  The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly, and his dimples peeked out. “I’m so glad I ran into you, Ms. Best. I need you to make some travel arrangements for me. It really can’t wait until Monday.”

  “Oh, I thought Katie would be handling things until Monday.” She was suddenly terrified to be given an assignment so early without Katie’s help.

  “Yes, I could call Ms. Carson, if that’s what you prefer, Ms. Best. I simply thought not to trouble her on the weekend since she’s so busy planning the wedding. But if you want, I’ll call her and ask her to come over tonight.”

  “Oh no. I don’t want you to bother Katie, I mean, Ms. Carson. I can do it. Do you have the information with you in your briefcase? I’ll just take it, now. I can exercise later.”

  “No, I don’t have the information here. I’ll have to get it from my computer.”

  The elevator had stopped on the eighteenth floor, and she was standing in the doorway as the elevator doors tried repeatedly to close.

  “I think the elevator is getting angry. I’ll get off here and wait for an elevator to go back down to my apartment. I just need to figure out how to login on the wireless. Do you know the password offhand? Never mind,” she rambled. “I’ll figure it out.”

  She turned and stepped out of the elevator to let the doors close and felt a shock as he touched her elbow. She jumped and twirled to see him standing, braced against the agitated elevator door.

  “Ms. Best, I think it would be easier if you came up so I could explain to you exac
tly what I need.”

  “Up? To your place?” Did her voice sound squeaky?

  “Yes, Ms. Best. My computer’s in my apartment—in my ‘big, fancy’ apartment.”

  She froze. Go up to his apartment? Of course it didn’t mean anything. Surely Katie went to his apartment all the time to get work assignments or deliver things or whatever. After all, she was his personal executive assistant.

  “Uhmm, Ms. Best? Are you coming? I think this elevator may have progressed from angry to furious.”

  “Oh. Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I was just thinking,”

  She felt herself blush again as she stepped back into the elevator. She was being silly, worrying about his intentions. She was simply naïve. Anyway, Steven Gherring would never be interested in someone like her. There were actresses and supermodels who’d be thrilled to be with him. Her face was radiating heat. How could she think he’d ever be attracted to her?

  She tugged down on the hem of her shorts, willing them to cover a bit more leg. She inspected her legs while pretending to tighten a shoelace. She was certainly glad she’d shaved that morning. Her legs, usually pasty white, had a nice healthy glow thanks to a few sessions of spray tan. Then she spotted a spray streak on her left inner thigh. She adjusted her right leg forward and clamped her legs together to hide the brown stain. This precarious position caused her to lose her balance, and she let out a little gasp.

  “Ms. Best? Are you okay? Are you in pain?” He reached out to steady her. She pulled back so quickly she stumbled the other direction, her bag swinging up and striking his chin.

  “Ouch!”

  “Oh! Oh, Mr. Gherring, I’m sorry!”

  He rubbed his chin. “Ms. Best, I believe you are trying to injure me.”

  Anne followed Gherring through the ornate double doors of the penthouse apartment. He disappeared into a back room, muttering instructions to Anne that unfortunately didn’t filter from her ears into her brain. She gazed around at the stately opulence that surrounded her on all sides. Colors were sophisticated and subdued, but every finish appeared to be beautiful and expensive, from the granite inlayed wood floors, to the chocolate Italian leather furniture, highlighted by impressive chandeliers suspended from twenty-foot ceilings. French doors led onto an expansive balcony, visible through enormous picture windows flanking the doorway. Anne perched on the edge of the sofa, staring at the marble coffee table that probably cost more than her car, wondering what instructions Gherring had given her before vanishing.