Her Best Match (The Best Girls 1)

I said that?” She couldn’t remember having that opinion about Gherring.

“I’m pretty sure.”

“I may have been wrong about him.”

“I take it you’ve changed your mind? Do you like Mr. Gherring now?”

“Of course I like him. But I don’t like-like him. You know…”

“I thought you liked Henri—”

“I do like Henri, and I’ve kissed him too. That counts for something I think.”

“And Mr. Gherring—have you kissed him?”

“No—of course not! He would never kiss me. We’re not like that. I’m just saying he can be pretty sweet when he wants to be.” Anne’s mouth felt like the Sahara Desert.

“Whatever. You seem a little defensive, though.”

“Maybe I’m uncomfortable talking with my daughter about kissing men.”

“You brought up the kissing, not me.”

“How about, let’s change the subject.”

“Okay. How was your day?”

Anne thought back to her morning—waking up on the roof with Steven Gherring, the phone call with Henri that was cut short, the scene with Jeff, and the evening working with Gherring. Emotionally, it was too much to process.

“It was fine.” Now she understood why that was always the answer you heard from a teenager.

“We can’t wait to see you. We should be at your apartment before you get home from work tomorrow, unless our flight’s delayed.”

“Rayna knows to expect you, and I left a key so you can wait inside. I’m sooooo excited!”

“Love you, Mom.”

“You too.”

Anne’s alarm shrilled in her ear. She reached for it and knocked it off the table. She hadn’t slept well, even though she was exhausted. She was afraid to take a Benadryl, even one, since her last experience with antihistamines had resulted in one of her most embarrassing moments. Bleary-eyed, she crawled out of bed and headed for the shower. She’d give herself a blast of cold water at the end to wake herself up.

She made it downstairs right on time, and found Gherring reading the paper with a cup of coffee. “I brought one for you if you want it.” He held out an insulated cup with a lid.

“Oh I love you!” She snatched it from his hand. Only after she’d taken a sip of the still-steaming liquid did she realize what she’d said. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed. She glanced at Gherring. Nope, he’d noticed.

He looked downright smug. “I always heard the stomach was a way to a man’s heart, not a woman’s.”

She ignored his subtle teasing. “I’ve heard money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy coffee, and that’s close enough.”

“As much coffee as I’ve consumed in my fifty years, I should be downright ecstatic.”

“Me, too.” She took a sip, savoring the taste as she swallowed the hot liquid. “Right now, I think any form of happiness is out of reach. I’ll settle for not-a-zombie.”

“Hope you can stay awake tonight when your daughters get here. What are you three going to do?”

“No real plans tonight. We were aiming for a play Saturday night because I can go get discount tickets in the afternoon. Maybe we’ll just walk around and take in the sites. I was thinking about going to that bar at the top of the Marriott in Times Square after dark. The view was amazing from there.”

“When did you discover that view?”