by Tamie Dearen
He flinched slightly and spoke without turning around. “I assume, Ms. Best, you’ve arrived, and the intent to cause physical harm is once again confirmed.”
“I’ve got great aim.” She scrambled to a sitting position, all too aware of the curious stares of the ambling crowd.
Why am I the clumsiest human on the planet?
Steven Gherring’s teasing smile disappeared when he looked over his shoulder at her. In an instant he was kneeling beside her, supporting her as she tried to stand up. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding.”
“Nothing hurts but my pride.”
Everyone scattered when Gherring approached, so Anne had no recourse but to accept his help, humiliating as it was.
“Are you sure you didn’t sprain something?”
“I was just hurrying because everyone was here, so I thought I was late. But my cell phone said it was only seven thirty. Don’t we start at eight o’clock? Was my cell time wrong? Or did we start work early today?”
“Now that’s an interesting story. I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He glanced around before continuing. “Officially, the office used to open at nine. But I noticed everyone made it a point to arrive before I got here at eight fifty, so I started arriving at eight forty or eight forty-five.” He smiled broadly. “So, of course, when I started coming in the office at eight thirty, people began to come at eight fifteen. And so on, and so on. I wanted to see how far the employees would go to try and make a good impression on the boss. So now I usually come in at about seven twenty.” He chuckled a bit. “But I understand the office opens at eight when I’m out of town.”
Anne raised her brows a bit. “You’re experimenting with your people at their expense? Just for fun? Or do you actually judge people by whether they beat you to the office?”
“I’ve never been impressed by people who go to great lengths trying to impress me,” he paused thoughtfully. “Although I guess I do expect it. No, it’s strictly for entertainment purposes. So, now you know the truth, I guess you won’t need to sacrifice your body to get here early.”
“No way!” She grinned, dabbing a tissue on her bleeding elbow. “I’m too competitive to let everyone else beat me to the office. What’s a little bruising and blood when you’re trying to win a game?”
Anne sat down at her desk and put away her personal things. “Now let’s get to work. What do you have for me today? Katie gave me as much instruction as she could, so hopefully I can handle it myself. She’s out for a gown fitting today.”
Her tense muscles began to relax as she managed to have a normal conversation with Gherring. He moved behind her desk and reached to grab the mouse, bringing up the day’s schedule on the computer. His arm brushed hers, sending shivers down her spine. She pulled away quickly, pretending to organize something in the desk drawer. With Gherring’s piercing gaze heating the back of her neck, Anne glanced up and realized he was waiting for her to respond to something he’d said.
“I’m sorry, what did you ask me?”
“I said, I’m scheduled to be in conference all morning, so you and I can meet during lunch.”
“Actually, I was supposed to have lunch with Sam, from Accounting.” She noticed his frown. Maybe he didn’t want to eat alone. “But you could come with us.”
“No,” he muttered. “That won’t be necessary. You can have lunch with Sam from Accounting, and we’ll meet afterward.”
“You ought to come. Sam’s a lot of fun. We’re eating next door at Papa’s Place.”
“I said no!” Gherring stalked into his office.
“I guess I’m supposed to work through lunch when Mr. Gherring is in town. He seemed pretty miffed with me,” Anne told Samantha. “I hate to think how much I’ll miss my lunches here.”
“He’s scary. I’d say packing a lunch from home is a small price to pay, if it keeps him happy.” Samantha glanced toward the doorway, as if Steven Gherring might come storming in and cause a scene.
“Maybe he’s just grouchy because he skips lunch.” Anne didn’t want Sam to be afraid of Gherring.
Papa’s Place was packed at lunchtime, but Papa George and his wife, May, had started saving a table for Anne. She’d eaten there every day since Monday, when their nephew, Spencer, had saved her from a disastrous fall outside the restaurant. Anne had returned at noon, heralding huge accolades on Spencer when she met the restaurant owners, swearing he’d saved her life. Spencer protested her exaggerations, but George and May were proud of their nephew.
When Anne had explained she was new to the city and admitted George reminded her of her daddy, they’d practically adopted her into their family. And Anne was secretly working on a plan to fix Spencer up with one of the receptionists at Gherring Inc.
“I invited Gherring to come eat with us, but he refused,” Anne told Sam.
“I’m glad he didn’t come,” Sam replied, shaking her blonde head for emphasis. “He’s just so intimidating.”
“I think you two would get along great.” Anne ticked off her points on her fingers. “You both like scuba diving and snow skiing. You both have grandmothers you’re close to. He seems to like dating blondes. You’re beautiful and smart. I think you would be great together.”
“Together? As in dating? Me and Mr. Gherring? You’ve got to be kidding! He would never—” Sam choked. “Good gracious! There he is!”
“Mr. Gherring?” Anne craned her neck around to see the entrance to Papa’s.
“Yes,” Sam whispered into her napkin, her eyes wide with terror. “And he’s coming this way, and he looks furious.”
Steven Gherring scowled as he approached the table, scanning the restaurant patrons. “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch. But something has come up that can’t wait.”
“I can come up to the office right now. Or if it’s not something too private, you’re welcome to join Sam and me.”
“You mean Sam and your other friend here?” He glanced over his shoulder.
Sam was probably embarrassed that Gherring hadn’t recognized him. Anne hurried to cover his gaffe.
“I’m sorry, I thought you’d met before. Mr. Gherring, this is Samantha Lowe.”
“Samantha? This is Sam from Accounting?”
Samantha blushed and spoke without quite making eye contact. “Yes, Mr. Gherring. You’d know me as Samantha. I think we’ve met at the monthly accounting meeting.”
“Samantha.” His face brightened. “It’s so nice to see you, Samantha. Yes, I believe now I remember seeing you in those dreadful meetings.”
At least he was being pleasant, now. Anne jumped in to take advantage of the moment. “You and Samantha actually have a lot in common. She’s into diving and skiing, just like you, Mr. Gherring.”
“How nice,” Gherring replied, in a slightly distracted tone. “You two enjoy your lunch. I’m going back up to the office to work on a project.”
“Okay. Do you want me to come now?”
“Now? No. There’s no hurry.” He turned to leave.
“But I thought you had something urgent.”
“It can wait,” he said over his shoulder as he strode to the door.
Anne and Samantha stared at each other in confusion. Finally, Anne broke the spell. “So… I think that went really well. Don’t you think you’d make a good couple?”
“Are you kidding me? I thought you were a matchmaker. Surely you can find someone I have more in common with than Steven Gherring.”
Anne sighed. Back to the drawing board.
Anne wrestled with the steaming cardboard food boxes while holding her purse wedged under her elbow as she tapped on Steven Gherring’s office door with her foot. She tottered a bit, leaning against the door to regain her balance when it was suddenly jerked open. She tried to catch herself without flinging the food across the office, but her ankle turned on the three-inch heel. As she began to fall, Steven Gherring reached around and steadied her from behind, and only her purse fell to the floor.
“Oh my good
ness! I just can’t seem to control myself in these silly shoes.”
His arms were still around her, and he was pressed up against her back. Both of her hands were still fully occupied with the boxes of food, so she couldn’t push him away. At least that was her reasoning.
Why didn’t she just step away from him? She almost felt frozen in place. She could smell his after-shave or his soap or something. It was a clean, masculine smell, not one of those strong, sweet cologne scents. She hated those girly scents on men. Steven smelled good, but like a man. For a moment, she almost relaxed and leaned back into his strong arms. She stiffened and jerked away, swirling to face him.
“Thank you. Sorry!” Anne spoke rapidly while holding out the boxes. “May sent you a sample of their specials today. It’s on the house. May says you’ve never eaten at Papa’s, so you just don’t know how good their food is. She says once you taste their food, you’ll come back.”
“I’ve already eaten a protein bar. I’m fine, thanks.”
“A protein bar? That’s all you’re planning to eat for lunch? That’s ridiculous! A grown man needs more for lunch than a protein bar. Just sit down and try a bite of these specials.” She ushered him toward his desk. “I’ll take it away if you don’t like it, but I won’t quit trying to make you eat a healthy lunch every day. I think that’s part of my job.”
She opened the aromatic boxes in front of him. “Today they have a choice of two Italian pastas and Papa’s pot roast. The specials always come with salads or fresh steamed veggies.”
Without further protest, he sampled each of the pastas and then took a bite of pot roast.
“Mmmmm.” He forked another large bite. “This tastes just like Gram’s pot roast.”
Anne chattered about how great the food was at Papa’s Place and told Gherring all about George and May and Spencer. She was relieved to have successfully extracted herself from Gherring’s arms before she embarrassed herself. She realized she hadn’t been held in a man’s arms for fifteen years. It had felt wonderful, just for a moment, to have someone strong to lean against.
She was an independent woman, and she’d taken care of herself and her girls for the past fifteen years without the help of a man. But it would be nice, just once, to have someone hold her and love her and take care of her. Maybe while she was looking for someone for Spencer and Mr. Gherring and a few other new friends, she’d find someone for herself. She really hadn’t even looked at a man in that way for fifteen years. New York was a big city. Surely there was someone out there for her.
He was staring at her. “A penny for your thoughts.”
“What?”
“You stopped talking, and you were obviously thinking about something, because you were smiling.”
Anne’s face heated all the way up to her forehead. “I was probably thinking about my girls coming to visit. They’ll be here in three weeks.”
“Emily and Charlotte, right?”
“How do you know their names?”
“You put it on your resume.” He took another bite of the pot roast.”
“I forgot I’d done that. My girls told me that was a no-no, after the fact.”
“I thought it was interesting. Most applicants don’t put their children’s names on their resumes. But then again, the others probably didn’t have any kids.”
“My daughters are evidence of some of my very best work. I couldn’t leave them off my resume. And besides, I think family and children are the most important things in life.”
His face suddenly clouded, and he pushed his food away. “We have work to do.”
“Of course.” Anne gathered up the boxes and cleared the desk. “Let me grab my laptop.”
She hurried to her desk, hating how her words had stirred up hurt in his eyes. Her heart went out to the man who for just a moment had looked like a small, lost boy. Had he once longed for children of his own? It was one more indication that he needed a younger bride. It wasn’t too late for him to have the family he’d missed all these years.
Katie returned from her fitting that afternoon and pulled Anne away from her PowerPoint project. “I just remembered I haven’t explained one of your most important jobs.” Katie lowered her voice though no one else was in the room. “You’re responsible for arranging a female escort for Mr. Gherring for every formal event.”
“Escort? Do you mean a call girl?”
Katie laughed at Anne. “Call girl? I forgot you’re from the sticks. I’m talking about an escort, not a prostitute. We usually arrange it through a publicist.”
She handed Anne a business card. “The contact is Charles Cooper. He handles publicity for many up-and-coming artists, performers, models, actresses, and businesswomen who need name recognition. Being seen at a function with Steven Gherring guarantees a write-up in the social columns and pictures in all the popular social media. In return, Mr. Gherring avoids having any social obligations beyond the event.”
Katie continued. “Mr. Cooper knows the qualities Mr. Gherring requires in an escort. He likes attractive women in their twenties and thirties, preferably tall and able to carry on a decent conversation. And he never takes the same woman to another event.”
“But why doesn’t Mr. Gherring get his own dates for these events? Surely he wouldn’t have any trouble finding someone who’d like to go with him, so he wouldn’t have to go with a complete stranger.”
“That’s the problem. In the past, he’s had terrible drama after only one date with a girl. Some women are desperate to marry him, and a lot of them are only attracted to his money and celebrity status. So he makes it a point never to be seen with any woman more than once. That’s why he has a reputation as a player, but in reality, he rarely dates anyone.”
“But that’s terrible. How will he ever find the right girl if he won’t even take someone on a real date? There could be someone right here at Gherring Inc. who’d make him really happy, and he’d never know.” Anne grabbed Katie’s arm. “And not every girl out there would only be interested in him because he’s rich. Some people don’t care about money. And he’s a nice-looking man, especially for his age. Don’t you think?”
Katie remained silent, her lips pressed together. Anne followed Katie’s wide-eyed gaze to find Steven Gherring standing a few feet away, obviously intent on the conversation.
“I think I’m old enough to make my own decisions about whom I will and will not date. I’ll thank both of you to stay out of my personal life and never discuss it again.” Gherring turned his back on the pair and returned to his private office, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Anne looked warily at Katie, who let out a low whistle. “Call the number on this card and have Mr. Cooper arrange for Mr. Gherring’s date to the International Business Gala next Friday. Dress is formal, as you know. We’ve been so busy working on all the details of the reception I almost forgot to arrange for his escort.”
“Do you think I should go apologize?” Anne asked, inclining her head toward Gherring’s office.
Katie shook her head. “No, I think anything we say would make it worse. He’ll forget eventually. Just do your job, and try to stay out of his personal life. And,” Katie warned with a serious look, “don’t ever gossip about Mr. Gherring. You absolutely cannot share any details about anything he says or does, business or personal. It’s very important to protect his privacy.”
“Of course,” Anne said, wondering how she could find a match for Mr. Gherring while staying out of his personal life.
I have to find a way…
Monsieur
Monday morning, Anne breathed a sigh of relief as she made it to her work desk without incident. No slips or falls on the way to work. This time, she wore her running shoes until she made it to her desk to change into her shiny spike-heeled pumps. She had a few strange looks on the elevator because of her footwear, but she knew she was really protecting those critics from imminent disaster by postponing the change to her awkward dress shoes.
&nbs
p; Slipping into her heels and stashing her running shoes in her oversized handbag, Anne glanced at the clock on her computer. Only seven fifteen. She was really proud of herself. She started checking messages and emails, knowing she needed to finalize the plans for the gala on Friday night. Her first big event. She was glad Katie was still helping her. She felt the pressure to make everything perfect.
Not only did she have to prepare for the party, but she also had to make travel and hotel arrangements for all the company’s internationally stationed executives. The first ones were due to arrive in New York on Monday morning. Steven Gherring would be holding meetings with international clients all week, but the huge formal party would happen on Friday night. Katie was only working Thursday and Friday this week, so Anne had to handle all the crises in the early part of the week by herself.
This would be a hectic week for all the employees at Gherring Inc. In evidence of the impending increase in workload, employees poured out of the elevators, hurrying off to get an early start.
Although she’d only been at Gherring Inc. for a week, Anne was already well liked. Calls of “Morning Anne!” “Hey Anne!” “Hi Anne,” kept her looking up to respond.
Anne liked pretty much everyone, unless they were purposefully rude. She’d always been taught to give people the benefit of the doubt and not to take offense unless she was certain the offending person meant to be offensive. She tried especially hard to be nice to folks who seemed not to have many friends, describing them as “hidden treasures.”
There were other elevators that serviced the top floor of Town Center Economic Tower, where Gherring Inc. was located, but most employees took the central elevator in hopes of seeing and being seen by Steven Gherring. Unless they happened to be late in arriving.
“Hey Anne,” said a quiet male voice from the edge of her desk. Anne looked up to see Tanner West, a thirty-something financial consultant who had moved from Dallas six months ago to join Gherring Inc. “Are you and Sam still having lunch next door today?”
