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

by Tamie Dearen

  Johanna Klein slipped into a chair beside her. “You must tell me everything. I saw the scene on the dance floor—I must know what has happened.”

  Anne told the whole story, starting with the surprise lunch date with Henri, filling in details as Johanna questioned her. When she was explaining how Gherring asked her to dance, she stopped the story.

  “Why do you think he asked me to dance?”

  “Why do you think he asked you?” Johanna questioned.

  “I think Gherring still dislikes Henri, even though he explained himself. He still hasn’t forgiven Henri, and I think he was trying to put Henri in his place. He acts like he owns me. Maybe he thinks he’s taking the place of my father, withholding approval of my boyfriends.”

  “Hmmm,” Johanna mused. “I believe you may be mistaken. I saw him dancing with you. He did not look at you like a father would.”

  “What do you mean?” Anne felt the blood rushing to her face.

  “I simply think he could be jealous, don’t you?”

  “Jealous? Of me?” Anne was incredulous. “Believe me, you’re wrong. I know the kind of women Gherring likes, and they’re nothing like me. He likes women like… like Margo Milan. Young, sophisticated, beautiful, society types. Women who’ve traveled the world.”

  “Perhaps, but you are just as beautiful as that model.”

  “No way! But thank you for boosting my forty-five year old ego. I do think I look a lot better than I usually do, thanks to my day at the spa. It took a whole day to look like this. No wonder my five minute beauty routine isn’t very effective.”

  Johanna chuckled with Anne about the hard work associated with beauty. Then she leaned close and whispered, “But what about Henri? Are there sparks?”

  Anne thought of the warm security she felt as Henri held her close. “Maybe, I’m not sure yet. I’m just cautious because it’s been fifteen years since I even looked at a man like that.” Unbidden, Anne recalled Gherring’s searing touch as they danced. She felt the heat rise to her face.

  “Oh, you are blushing. I think there may be sparks after all!”

  Henri returned bearing a plate laden with delectable finger foods just as Johanna got up to leave.

  “I must go rescue my husband from talking business all night. So glad to have seen you again. I have your email address, so I will keep in touch.” She leaned in to whisper in Anne’s ear. “I have to find out the end of the story.”

  When Johanna was gone, Anne realized she was famished. “I don’t think I’ve eaten anything all day!” She gobbled down the hors d’oeuvres quickly.

  “Henri, I know it may be none of my business, but will you tell me what Gherring said to you when he talked to you alone. I want to know if y’all talked about me.”

  “He wanted to know what my intentions were. And he told me I cannot hurt you.”

  “He said that? He actually told you not to hurt me?”

  “Oui, uhmm, non. His words were, ‘If you hurt Anne, I will hurt you!’ I think he was serious.”

  “Oh no, I can’t believe he said that.”

  “But he did not say what will happen…” He stopped to gaze into Anne’s eyes. “He did not say what will happen if you hurt me.”

  “If I hurt you? Why would I hurt you?”

  “Because, as I told you, you have captured my heart. What will you do now? With my heart?”

  Anne hesitated. How was she supposed to respond? This was exactly the kind of pressure she’d hoped to avoid.

  Henri sighed. “He is watching us now.”

  Anne glanced over her shoulder to find Gherring gazing their direction from the edge of the crowd.

  “He is watching us to be sure I do not hurt you. I will not hurt you, but you may hurt me. I have decided I will risk letting you hurt my heart, mon ange.” He bent toward Anne and lightly brushed his lips on hers. She jumped, her eyes wide and startled, her cheeks burning.

  “I, uhmm, I’m sorry Henri. I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time. I mean a really long time. Like fifteen years long time.”

  “That is a really long time,” Henri agreed with a grin. “You have forgotten how? Do you still like to kiss?”

  Anne chuckled. “Well, I guess the answer is no—I haven’t forgotten how. And yes—I still like to, I think. But I’m pretty rusty and pretty nervous. And I don’t want to practice here in front of a bunch of people.”

  “You do not want to practice in front of the crowd? Or you do not want to practice in front of your boss?”

  Anne glanced over her shoulder to where Gherring was glaring. “Uhmm, honestly… both.”

  Henri smiled, his green eyes dancing. “Come. I will take mon bel ange to a place where there is no crowd and…” He glanced back at Gherring. “And no boss.”

  He quickly tucked her arm into his and led her across the ballroom and out the door. As she departed, Anne thought triumphantly she hadn’t lost her balance the entire evening. No trips, no falls. But then she recalled she had indeed felt off balance one time—in the arms of Steven Gherring.

  *****

  Anne left the ballroom with Henri and, to her surprise, he led her into the hotel elevator. She watched him nervously as the elevator rose higher and higher. “Where’re we going?”

  Henri grinned and raised his eyebrows. He spoke in a sultry voice. “We are going upstairs to my room, of course. There, it will be private. No crowd, no boss.”

  Anne’s face turned ashen, but Henri laughed. “Non, no. I am kidding you. We are going to the top. There is a private club, a bar. It is a quiet place. You will like it, I think.”

  Anne pummeled Henri in the arm playfully until he begged for mercy, even as she sighed in relief. The elevator doors opened on the top floor. They entered a large lounge, and Henri asked to be seated by the windows.

  As they took their seats Anne exclaimed breathlessly, “It’s Times Square! We can see Times Square from here!”

  Henri looked pleased by her response. “You like it?”

  “I love it. This is amazing. I’ve never seen Times Square at night—it’s so beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is beautiful. I love to show you beautiful things.” They looked out in silence over the busy scene below them. “Paris is very beautiful—I would like to show Paris to you.”

  Anne’s eyes lit up and then her face fell. “Henri, I’d love to go to Paris. I’d love to see Paris with you, but I don’t see how that would work.”

  “It is simple. You will fly to Paris. I will pay for your ticket, and I will pick you up at the airport. You will stay at my home. My home is very large, tres grande. You will have your own room. Everything will be very proper.” His green eyes searched her face hopefully. “Will you come to Paris?”

  She hesitated, her voice apologetic. “Henri…”

  “Non, wait! Do not say no. Please, mon ange, not yet. Do not say that it is not possible.”

  “But Henri—”

  “Wait! You said to give myself chance. I am giving myself a chance with you. I say we make a bargain.”

  “What bargain?”

  “You cannot say no until we try.”

  “I don’t know. What does that mean?”

  “I mean you must come one time to Paris. Then you can say no if you want to. But you may say yes, if you give me a chance.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but Henri touched his finger to her lips. “Wait! Please wait. If you come to Paris one time and you still think it will not work between us, I will let you go. I ask only for a chance.”

  “I just don’t know, Henri. I’d like to say yes, but I don’t know.”

  “What do you lose if you try?”

  “I don’t want to break your heart, Henri.”

  “It is too late—I have opened my heart to you.”

  Anne felt like running away. She couldn’t handle this kind of pressure. How had she managed to lead Henri on? She thought she’d been so careful.

  Henri touched her arm. “It is a good thing, I thin
k, to give my heart to you. I have played and flirted, but I have not given my heart. Because I do not want to hurt again, I have not given my heart. For five years I have protected my heart to keep it safe, so I will not be hurt.”

  He spoke fervently. “But without hurt, I have no chance for love. Mon bel ange, with you I am willing to risk my heart again, so I can feel. Oui? No chance for hurt means no chance for love. I am forty-five years old. I want real love in my life. I am glad to risk hurting.”

  Henri lifted Anne’s hand to his lips. “I am glad to feel something again.”

  Anne felt her heart swell with emotion, and she blinked back tears. Henri lifted her arm and turned her hand over to press a gentle kiss on her wrist. She watched as he moved up to kiss the inside of her elbow. She felt a tingle deep inside as his lips caressed her skin. His hand tilted her chin toward him, and he moved his lips toward hers. He touched his mouth against hers, tenderly at first. Then his hand moved behind her head, and his kiss became more urgent, his tongue probing, insisting. Anne’s heart raced as she gave in to her need, so long denied. She returned his kiss with passion, their tongues dancing, her body humming, her heart pounding. When he finally pulled back, releasing their kiss, both of them were breathing rapidly.

  “Mon dieu! You have not forgotten how to kiss.”

  Anne fanned her flushed face. “But I forgot how nice it is to be kissed. To be well kissed.”

  “So you will come to Paris, mon bel ange? Just one time? Just one chance?”

  “But what about work?”

  “In three weeks, you have your holiday, Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes… We’re off Wednesday through Friday.”

  “So you can come to Paris on Tuesday night. We will have four days together.”

  “But… I was planning to see my father during the holidays.”

  Henri leaned toward Anne and nuzzled her neck below her ear. “You could see your father at Christmas, I think.”

  Anne felt a shiver go down her spine. “Yes, I think I could see Dad at Christmas after all. I guess I’m going to Paris.”

  Then she sat up with excitement. “And I get to use my passport—I’ll get my first stamp.”

  The limousine returned them to the front of Anne’s apartment. Anne, who’d abandoned her shoes on the trip, jumped out of the door with them in one hand, holding her dress up so she wouldn’t trip. She squealed as she dashed across the cold sidewalk in bare feet with Henri chasing behind her. They pushed through the doors into the lobby, laughing. She spied Antonio as she was running past and stopped to give him a hug. His mouth dropped open as he noticed her dress and makeover. Though some of the makeup had worn off, her cheeks were rosy and her face was glowing.

  “You look hot, Anne. If I weren’t going out with Rayna, I’d be coming after you.”

  “I am glad you have another girl, so I do not have to hurt you,” Henri threatened playfully.

  “Thanks, Antonio. But don’t get used to it—this is a temporary change.”

  Henri pulled Anne into his arms. “I fell for you without the fancy dress. You were beautiful already.”

  Antonio raised his eyebrows. “Anne, you’ve been keeping secrets. Why haven’t I heard about your boyfriend?”

  “Antonio, this is Henri. Henri this is Antonio—he keeps me safe in my home here.”

  Henri bowed to Antonio. “I am grateful to you for keeping her safe—mon bel ange.”

  Anne pulled Henri away to say goodnight. “May I come upstairs? For coffee? That is all, I promise.”

  “Promise?”

  “I do not wish the night to end.”

  Anne relented, unable to resist his pleading green eyes. “Just coffee. No hanky-panky.”

  He followed her to the elevator. “What is hanky-panky? It sounds delicious—I might be hungry.”

  Anne struggled to explain the term until she noticed Henri was suppressing a laugh. “You’re teasing me, again. Why am I so gullible?” She punched him playfully. “At least I get to hit your arm and feel your muscles.”

  Anne dashed ahead of Henri when she opened her apartment door, hurrying in to shut the bathroom door and hide her mess. Henri surveyed the small living area and relaxed onto the comfy sofa. Anne started a pot of decaf coffee before joining Henri on the couch.

  “Okay Henri, I said I would come to Paris, and I will. But I just don’t see how it would ever work long term. You can’t move to New York because of work. I can’t move to Paris because of my family.”

  Henri smirked at Anne. “Do you always worry so much?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid so. I just worry about things.”

  “But I do not. I do not worry about things.”

  “Yes, I’m aware. You don’t seem to worry about anything.”

  “You worry too much, and I do not worry enough. Oui? So together we are perfect.”

  Anne rolled her eyes. “I’m fixin’ to get our coffee. Do you want cream or sugar?”

  “No, just black. You are enough sweet for me.”

  “Henri, you’re so corny.” She poured the steaming coffee in mugs. “But it’s been a long time since somebody sweet-talked me. I think I like it. And you know it sounds so much better with that sexy French accent.”

  “Oui, oui! I am counting on your inability to resist my accent.” He leaned over to nuzzle her neck, but Anne jumped at a knock on the door.

  “Who could that be?” She ran to the door and peeped through the hole. “It’s Mr. Gherring. Should you hide?”

  “No, I will not hide. I have done nothing wrong.”

  “Sorry, I just panicked. I’m going to open the door.” Anne cracked it open and blocked the doorway.

  “Hi, Mr. Gherring. Uhmm, did you need something?”

  “No, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He peered over her shoulder, spying Henri on her couch.

  “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  “You know,” Gherring stammered. “I—I wanted to be sure you got home safely.”

  “Yes, well thank you, Mr. Gherring. I’m home safely.”

  “I’m glad… you’re home, uhmm, safely.”

  “Yes, well thanks again—” Anne started to shut the door, but Gherring stuck his foot in the way.

  “Wait, uhmm. Tell Henri, my limousine is available now if he’d like a ride to his hotel. I, uhmm, I just wanted to offer.”

  Henri sauntered over to the door, placing a possessive arm around Anne’s waist. “Thanks Gherring, but I do not need your limousine tonight. Good night.” Henri smiled knowingly at Gherring as he shut the door.

  Anne put her hands on her hips. “Henri! You made it sound like you’re spending the night.”

  “I did?” He opened his eyes wide.

  “You know good and well what you made him think. I know it seems silly to you, but I’m old fashioned about this. I don’t want anyone to think I’m that kind of girl. I want to protect my reputation.”

  “I am sorry. I was not thinking. I cannot help myself when I have the chance to tease Gherring. But I will tell him the truth tomorrow. I will sacrifice my reputation for your reputation.” He plastered his hand over his heart and spoke with such drama in his voice, Anne started laughing.

  “Okay, you’re forgiven. But only if you let him know the truth.”

  “Maybe, we should do as he thinks we are doing, instead?” He leaned in close. “Are you listening? Do you hear my sexy accent? N'est-ce pas? Ma jolie femme? Mon bel ange?”

  Anne backed away and put her hands over her ears. “Henri, you promised.”

  “Yes, I promised.” He shook his head as his lips formed a pout. “But maybe, a little, I hoped you would change your mind.” He smiled and put up his hands to stop her as she began to protest again. “No, I will be good. Do not be mad at me—we will just drink coffee, oui?”

  “Yes, just coffee.”

  “And maybe one more kiss? Only one? Seulement? A goodbye kiss for three weeks?”

  “Only one more. You almost killed me wit
h the first one.”

  “Moi aussi. Me too. But I was thinking… I was thinking that would be a great way to die.”

  Chapter Seven - Awakenings

  Anne slept in until eleven twenty a.m., awakened by romantic piano music emanating from her cell phone. “Good morning, Emily,” she said in a groggy voice.

  “Mom, were you still asleep? How late did you stay out last night?”

  “Oh, I came home before midnight, but Henri didn’t leave until almost two a.m.”

  “Henri was at your apartment? Mom, I got the picture you sent. Henri is yummy. Ohmygosh! You didn’t tell me how gorgeous he was. Oh, and you looked great, too. But if you decide you’re not interested in Henri, you could introduce him to me.”

  “Oh no—I’m not letting Henri within five miles of you. He’s a bit too hard to resist, and he’s downright charming.” Anne laughed. “And I mean that in the worst possible way.”

  “Well I don’t know Mom. Maybe I shouldn’t let you date a guy like that. Were you able to resist him? And I mean that in the worst possible way.”

  “The answer is mostly yes, but I did find out he is a great kisser.”

  “Woo hoo, Mom! I never thought we’d have this conversation, but I love it! Do we need to have ‘The Talk’?”

  “Very funny, Em. Your very existence indicates I don’t need to have ‘The Talk.’”

  “Or maybe my existence means we do need to have ‘The Talk.’ But I’d like to meet this Henri. You know, check him out in person, and see if I approve.”

  “Ha, ha. I bet you would, but it’s too late. By now he’s in the air over the Atlantic on his way back to Paris.”

  “What? He’s gone back already? That was a short romance.”

  “Well, it’s not exactly over.”

  “He’s coming back to New York again?”

  “Uhmm, no. But I’m going to Paris to see him.”

  “What! You’re going to Paris? Ohmygosh! Ohmygosh! I can’t believe it .When are you going? This is sooooo romantic.”

  “I know. I can’t believe it either. I’m finally going to use my passport. Woo hoo!” Anne laughed. “I’m going during Thanksgiving holidays, so you girls need to make sure Grandpa has someplace to go for Thanksgiving dinner.”