Her Best Match (The Best Girls 1)

“I don’t know,” said Emily. “I really liked the troll the best.”

Charlie quipped, “Of course you would say you’d say that. You have to be different.”

“No, Emily may be right,” argued Anne. “After a while, when you really got to know the troll, you found out how sweet he was. He just got more and more good-looking, even before he magically transformed to a knight.”

Emily piped in, “I think it’s because the troll was so big and strong and masculine. Once he transformed, he looked kind of wimpy.”

“It doesn’t matter. Did you see the playbill picture of the knight? He was hot!” said Charlie.

“Actually,” said Emily, “I can’t believe we’re arguing about this. It isn’t real. We’re arguing over who was better looking—a make-believe knight or a man in a troll costume.”

“I think people were staring at us,” said Anne.

“When?” asked Emily.

“Probably in the scene where all three of us were sobbing,” said Charlie.

“Really,” chuckled Emily. “Which time?”

That comment got all three of them laughing, so they took a minute to catch their breaths.

“Okay, where to next?” asked Anne.

“You’re the New Yorker. You tell us where to go.”

“We should go to Times Square, and then I’ll take y’all up to that bar at the top of the Marriot where Henri took me after the gala.”

“Okay, but we have to sit at a different table,” said Charlie. “I can’t sit at the table where some guy kissed my mom.”

“Be nice or I’ll tell you all the gory details,” said Anne.

“Ewww! Yuck! Please, no details,” laughed Emily.

A quick cab ride to Times Square and the girls were standing in the middle of the intersection, surrounded by throngs of people, huge digital images, and light shows.

“It’s so much cooler than on TV,” said Charlie.

“It’s almost a sensory overload,” said Emily. “I think I’ll like it better from above than when we’re in the middle of it.”

“Still, we need to get our picture.” Charlie pulled out her phone and flagged down a friendly bystander to take a snapshot of the three girls together in Times Square. Charlie immediately posted it on the web, and they started walking toward the Marriot. As they approached the hotel, Anne noticed several limousines lined up.

“I bet we might see someone famous if we wait a minute.”

“Mom, you probably wouldn’t even recognize someone famous if they came out. You’re so clueless. You didn’t even recognize Steven Gherring when you interviewed with him,” said Emily.

“But I have y’all here for that.” Anne argued. “Let’s just wait a bit.”

“Okay,” said Charlie. “I’ll keep my phone out and snap a picture if we see someone good.”

Two couples came out of the hotel. Charlie swore one of the women looked familiar, but the couples turned and walked past them toward Times Square.

“See, they’re nobody. Let’s go inside,” said Emily.

“Fine,” said Anne. “You’re no fun.”

They walked into the lobby, grateful to be warmer.

“I’m going to the restroom.” Charlie grabbed Emily’s arm. “You have to come with me.”