Her Best Match: A Romantic Comedy (The Best Girls Book 1) (43 page)

She was mortified he knew she vomited. Mortified other people knew. She was mortified about everything.

“Great… Now the whole office will think I’m pregnant and the baby is yours.”

“It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. I…
Could
you be pregnant?”

“Well yes, if you believe in Immaculate Conception,” she sniped.

“No—I mean—I thought you were too… Don’t you eventually get to the point where you can’t have children?”

Her cheeks flamed. “I haven’t gone through menopause yet. That’s usually around age fifty. And I can’t
believe
I’m discussing this with you.” She stomped back toward the CMA department.

Steven arrived a few minutes later with two more bottles of water. “Come on, I’m taking you home. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to start drinking again, now that you threw up that last water.” He lifted her from the chair by her arm and urged her toward the door.

She’d finally had enough of his controlling attitude, and she’d had way too much water. “There’s no possible way I can drink any m—”

“If we don’t get some fluid into you and keep it down, we won’t be able to go see the jazz show tonight.”

“We?
You’re
going?”

“Neither of us is going, if you aren’t better. So start drinking.”

Her knees felt weak. Was it dehydration? Or was it the news she’d be spending the evening with Steven.

“But last time we went somewhere with Johanna and Alexander, someone took our picture and put it in the social column. That could mess things up for you and Ellen.”

“I don’t care,” Steven forced the words between his teeth. “Let them speculate. More gossip will be better publicity for Ellen, anyway.” He stomped toward the exit.

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” She was following him out the door, when she grabbed his arm, pleading. “Could I get something else to drink besides water? Please? Maybe some iced tea?”

His expression softened. “Sure, we’ll get some tea to go from Papa’s on the way out.”

Anne worked hard to drink the enormous cup of Papa’s iced tea. Papa’s was the only place she’d found in New York City that offered sweet tea that tasted just like what she had back in Weatherford, Texas. By the time she walked into the lobby of the apartment with Steven, she felt a little less queasy. On the elevator, he pinned her with a look.

“Do you promise to finish that tea? Or do I need to come and sit with you until it’s gone?”

“I promise,” she said meekly. “I don’t mind drinking sweet tea so much.”

“You’ve got two hours before we’re supposed to be downstairs. I’m coming to your apartment thirty minutes early to evaluate whether I’ll let you go tonight.”

Anne’s hackles rose at the authority in his voice. “No thank you. I’ll make that determination myself and call you.”

“You’ll pardon me if I have little faith in your judgment at the moment. You’ll do as I say, or…” He stopped and let out a little frustrated grunt. Then he began again in a tired, pleading tone. “Ms. Best. I’ve been quite worried about you this afternoon, and it’s taken an emotional toll. Frankly, I’m exhausted. If you could just roll with me on this one thing, I could relax and take a nap and look forward to our show tonight.”

Immediately her demeanor was assuaged. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be selfish. You go take a nap, and I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”

With relief evident on his face, she exited the elevator under his watchful gaze.

She finished the tea and set her alarm to take a quick nap. Her body was physically and emotionally spent. She fell asleep immediately and woke confused at the sound of her clock beeping. Moving to the bathroom, she regarded her drawn face with alarm. Perhaps a quick shower would help. She hopped in and washed her hair, quickly donning some clothes before Steven was scheduled to arrive. He knocked on her door precisely at the prescribed time. She dashed to answer it, flinging the door open.

“I’m sorry,” she said, peeking through a mass of unruly wet waves. “I decided to take a nap and a shower, so I’m not ready yet.”

He eyed her critically. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” she said, hurrying to the bathroom to continue her preparations. “Really, I feel a lot better. I’m not trying to hide anything. And I drank all of that ten gallon cup of tea you bought me.”

He followed her and leaned against the bathroom doorway, watching the proceedings. “It wasn’t quite ten gallons,” he bantered. He observed her with interest as she applied mascara. “Why do you hold your mouth open wide when you put that on?”

“I don’t know—it’s just something you have to do somehow when you put mascara on. Everyone does it, I think.”

“You don’t really need make-up. You don’t wear much anyway, do you? I mean, I guess you had on more that night you went to the gala. And you looked good. But I think you look beautiful without it.”

Anne watched her face turn red in the mirror. She started coughing to distract attention from her flush. “Uhmm thanks. That’s a sweet thing to say.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t say it because I’m
sweet
. I could prove that to you again if you’d like.” His smile was wicked.

She’d thought she couldn’t get any redder, but she was wrong. “Maybe you should wait in the other room while I finish getting ready.”

“But this is so interesting,” he protested with a grin.

“Yes. But you’re distracting me and I won’t be ready on time.”

He reluctantly removed himself to the living area. When she emerged, he was standing by the bookshelves holding a photograph. “I guess this is Tom with you and the girls?”

“Yes, it’s one of the last ones we took together as a family before… before we lost him.”

“I can see him in the girls, especially Charlie. I thought they looked just like you, but now I can see where they get some of their features from him.” He placed the photo back on the shelf. “You have a lot of family photos—I guess family means a lot to you. I just wondered… Why did you decide to apply for a job in New York and leave your family behind?”

“Wow, I don’t know how to answer that. Let me think.” She contemplated his question as they strolled to the elevator.

“I guess maybe boredom. Dissatisfaction. Feeling like I’d lost my purpose with the girls gone. Wondering if there wasn’t something else out there… But to be honest, I never dreamed I’d actually get the job. It was just a lark. A chance to go to New York.”

She challenged him, “So now, you tell me. Why did you hire me?”

“Same reasons. Boredom. Dissatisfaction.” HIs dimples grew deep. “Let’s just say I enjoy a challenge, and I hadn’t had one in quite a while.”

“Oh, so I was a challenge?”

“Yes. I had to treat you like a skittish wild animal, draw you in, earn your trust. And just when I think I’ve got you all figured out—tamed the wild animal—you do something I don’t expect. You’re hard to control, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t care to be controlled,” she bristled.

“No doubt… Thus, the challenge.” He waggled his eyebrows until he elicited a giggle.

“Stop that—don’t make me laugh when I’m trying to be mad,” she complained, suppressing a smile.

“Or instead, you could just stop trying to be mad. You never manage it for more than a few minutes anyway.”

“I know. My kids figured that out early on. They knew I was too soft and took advantage of me. I wasn’t good at discipline.”

“I think your kids turned out great. Maybe it’s a good thing to have an explosive temper that peters out immediately afterward.”

She stiffened at the description. “Is that really what you think? That my temper is
explosive
? I don’t think I’m any worse than
you
are.”

“Really?” Steven raised his eyebrows and started laughing.

She started to retort, but then she deflated. “Oh. I see what you mean.”

They traveled through the lobby and out to Steven's waiting car.

“I thought the Kleins were picking me up.”

“I called them and told them we would me them there.”

“Uhmm, Mr. Gherring? About tonight… Have you told Ellen? I mean I don’t want her to think it means anything—us going to the jazz show with the Kleins. Because we know it doesn’t mean anything, but she might not know. She doesn’t know you know Alexander from business and all. And I just wouldn’t want her to think I set you up with her and then I was trying to mess things up—”

“Ms. Best, I’ll deal with Ellen Dean as I see fit. If she’s the kind of woman who gets jealous over something like this, we won’t last long.”

“Okay… Sorry.” They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while. She wished she hadn’t brought up the subject of Ellen. Now images of Steven with his open shirt and Ellen with her sexy dress invaded her mind. What had happened in Steven Gherring’s apartment? It was none of her business. They were two consenting adults. But she wondered, did Steven compare her to Ellen? Ellen wouldn’t have been stiff and afraid when Steven kissed her. She would have responded with passion, like any other normal red-blooded woman. He wouldn’t have to stop himself to protect her. And Ellen was young and beautiful, exotic even. She realized she was hyperventilating. She had to stop thinking about it.

“Perhaps,” said Steven, “now would be a good time to discuss last n—”

“Nope! Nope! Not a good time,” Anne said, keeping her voice light. She tried breathing slowly in and out through her nose. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe never…” she said, between breaths.

Steven watched her with wide eyes, but made no further comment before they arrived.

The show was great, and Anne was enchanted with every moment. They sat near the stage, so there was little conversation. But Anne was too enthralled watching the musicians to notice anything else. The saxophone player sauntered over to the table and played while looking directly at Anne during one of his sexy solos, much to her embarrassment. After the song, Anne clapped and cheered and let out one of her wolf whistles for his benefit. Steven ordered drinks and appetizers, with water for Anne. But she barely sipped on anything and the fried calamari looked too greasy to her tender stomach.

When the show was over, Johanna wanted to grab a late dinner so they could talk. Anne started to respond she was too tired and had to be at work early, but Steven usurped her authority.

“I think that’s an excellent idea. But we need something very light. What sounds good to you Anne?”

“Nothing really. I’m not very hungry.”

“Which is interesting since you haven’t eaten all day. And this from the girl who won’t let me skip lunch anymore.”

She started to protest and mention she’d eaten cheese crackers, but she remembered they hadn’t stayed down. She gave in without argument. “Anything would be fine.”

Steven remembered a place that had great soups and breads. When their orders arrived and Anne swallowed a few bites of creamy potato soup, he gave her an approving nod.

“So Mr. Gherring,” said Johanna. “Alexander says he has invited you to visit us in Germany. Do you think that might be in your plans soon? Perhaps after Christmas?”

“Perhaps we could come visit you when we come to Switzerland to ski in January.”

“Yes, we have a wonderful guest cottage with a fireplace. Very cozy for two.” Johanna smiled.

Anne’s heart lurched as she thought of Steven and Ellen skiing together in Switzerland and staying in the Klein’s cozy cottage. But Ellen’s play might still be running in January. In fact, she hoped it would run for many months.

“But Mr. Gherring,” Anne said. “Isn’t Gherring Inc. underwriting
Rainbow Junction
, now? Hopefully, the play will run for a long time. And I know Ellen said one of the actresses has a sick child. They all really need the work. Ellen probably won’t be able to get off for a trip in January.”

“As always, Anne, you’re on top of every detail, although sometimes you seem to miss the big picture.” He chuckled with the Kleins, while Anne wondered what she’d missed. “Yes, if the play does well, Ellen certainly wouldn’t be able to make a trip in January. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Johanna touched her hand. “Anne, you had not been working at Gherring Inc. for very long when I first met you. How do you like your job? Are you planning to stay? Or will you go back to Texas?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she queried her. Anne took it as an opportunity to give Steven a hard time.

“Most days I like my job just fine. But the boss can be a bit controlling at times. One time he even tried to tell me what I should eat and drink. Can you believe that?”

Steven replied, “Personally, I feel sorry for your boss, never being able to predict just what you might do next. He must have to work very hard to stay ahead of you.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to complain about him. He’s very misunderstood. People think he’s really scary, but he’s actually very
sweet
.”

Steven's dimples pulsed as his jaw muscles contracted. “I think he’s scarier than you realize. I’ve seen him lose his temper when someone is too stubborn for their own good.”