Her Best Match (The Best Girls 1)

“No problem, she only takes ten minutes to shower and dress. An extra five to dry her hair. It really is kind of like you gave me a little brother.”

“It’s a good thing, since you used to spend hours in the bathroom, mostly just twirling around in front of the mirror.”

“You should’ve put a big mirror in my room. Then I wouldn’t have monopolized the bathroom.”

“So… about Spencer…”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Anne and Emily turned back to their books.

“So… about Steven Gherring…”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

Emily grinned. “Let’s talk about Charlie instead.”

“Great idea!”

After cramming in a tour of as many New York sites as possible, the girls returned to get ready for dinner at Gram’s. She sent a limousine to pick up Anne and the girls at the apartment at five thirty. Anne suppressed a pang of disappointment when she realized Steven Gherring was not going with them. He’d never said he’d be there, but she must have secretly hoped he would.

And that kind of thinking is exactly what I have to avoid.

It was actually a good thing that he wouldn’t be there. It would be easier to conspire with Gram about their matchmaking efforts.

The ride to the Gherring Estate was thirty minutes along the Hudson River to Yonkers. As they drove up to the two-story mansion at the top of the hill, they could see the lights twinkling a warm welcome in the courtyard. Anne counted four chimneys on the rooftop.

Charlie exclaimed, “This place is ginormous!”

“Mom, did you know she lived in a place like this?” asked Emily.

“I had no idea, but I suppose I should have guessed.”

Gram met them at the entry that opened into a huge main hall with an enormous grand staircase off to the left. Their footsteps echoed in the hall as they followed Gram across the marble floor.

“Come this way. We’ll sit in the library and chat until dinner is ready.”

The expansive library was lit with two large chandeliers that hung from an elaborately coved and painted ceiling. The twelve-foot walls were covered on each side from floor to ceiling with bookcases filled to capacity. The bookshelves even extended over the doorway. A seating area beckoned in front of a roaring fire in an ornate stone fireplace.

“Emily, C

harlotte, this is Mrs. Gherring. And this is Emily, the oldest, and Charlotte.”

“I’m Gram! I’ve told your mother already that Mrs. Gherring is the name of my grandson’s wife.” The girls exchanged confused looks, and Gram chuckled. “I always say that. Love to see people’s reactions. You know, they think I might be senile and maybe I don’t know my grandson is still single.”

“We’re working together, Gram and I, to find a Mrs. Gherring for Mr. Gherring.”

“I see,” said Charlie, as one perfectly arched eyebrow kicked up a little higher than the other.

“Emily?” Gram asked, shifting her attention to the other Best daughter who’d turned her head to study the walls of books. She quickly forced her eyes back to the short woman with the commanding voice.

“Yes ma’am?”

“I can see you’re dying to peruse the book collection. Go ahead. I’ll just grill your sister for a while.”

“Yes ma’am.” Emily flashed a smirk at her sister and hurried to survey the books.

“So your name is Charlotte?”