Her Best Match: A Romantic Comedy (The Best Girls Book 1) (12 page)

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 think, 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 with the first one.”

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

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.”

“No problem, Mom. We’ll take care of Grandpa, if we can pin him down. Hey, maybe Henri has a son who looks like him and you could introduce us.”

“Ha! Maybe, but we can talk about it in a week, right? Y’all are coming next Friday?”

“Yep, we’re flying in on Friday, and we’ll be there by the time you get off work. And we don’t have to go back until Monday, so we have two whole days in New York with you.”

“I can’t wait—I miss y’all so bad.”

“I don’t know, Mom. It doesn’t sound like you’ve been moping around without us.”

“Well, it’s been pretty exciting, but I don’t like that you’re both so far away. And I miss Gandalf, too.”

“I would tell you Gandalf misses you, but he seemed perfectly happy last week when I visited him and Grandpa at the house. I think Grandpa just shares his food with him. He’s so spoiled, now.”

“Oh no, he’s gonna get so fat. I need to talk to Dad about that.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. You know Grandpa won’t listen to anybody.”

“Yep, you’re right. I might as well give up before I even try.”

“But six days and we’ll see you in person. It seems like you’ve been gone for months instead of a couple of weeks.”

“I agree. A lot has happened in two weeks. Who knows, by next week I may meet a film director who’ll turn me into a movie star. I could be famous by the time you see me.”

“Oh my. 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 had 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 stuck her iPod in her pocket. She was surprised to find the gym was busy on a Saturday at one o’clock. 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 tiredly 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?

She looked 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. Surely, Henri hadn’t called him early in the morning to correct his misconception. Gherring hadn’t seen her yet. Maybe she could slip away and run later in the day. She turned the machine off and stepped down.

“Is your treadmill not working?” she heard Gherring’s voice ask.

She kept her head down in case he hadn’t recognized her and mumbled something about getting a towel.

By now, Gherring had slowed his machine to a walk and he continued the conversation without looking her direction.

“I suppose this means Henri is gone,” he said in a flat emotionless voice.

Anne kept her voice calm with great effort. “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 glared at him. “I know what you think, but you’re wrong about me. 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.”

“What was I supposed to think? Henri is… He’s… Women can’t resist him. And he was there. With you. And you had that dress on.”

“Well
I
resisted him. Even though I had on
that dress
,” she spit out sarcastically. She turned away from him and started her treadmill again. She ran faster than her normal pace, fueled by her 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?”

“No. I do the Iron Man Competition.”

“No way. Really?” 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 to train outside.”

“Have you ever won?”

Gherring chuckled. “No, I’ve never won. But I do well enough to start with the first group.”

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.”

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 secretary. “Well 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 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’d make 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. “So I just knew as soon as I met you.”

“And who told you that?”

“Henri told me. He’s such a flirt.”

“Is that the cute French guy you met on Monday?”

“Well 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.

“Oh, wow!” cried Ellen. “Here’s
your
picture.”

“My picture? Me and Henri?”

“Well 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 some explaining to do.”

“Ohmygosh! 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.
Well, we went together, but we weren’t
togethe-
together. We didn’t even sit together in the first half. They just took that picture that made it look like we were together.”

Anne stopped to take a breath. “I mean, really. You know Steven Gherring wouldn’t actually go out with his hick secretary from Texas.”

“Well this Henri guy from France didn’t seem to mind you were a hick secretary from Texas.”

“Yes, well, Henri has less discriminating taste, I think. He’s probably dated half of the women in New York.”

“Okay, so you didn’t actually go out with Steven Gherring?”