Best Dating Rules: A Romantic Comedy (The Best Girls Book 2) (13 page)

He turned around to see her eyes welling with tears. “Don’t cry, Gracie.” He reached out and pulled her into a hug. “It’ll be fine. It probably wasn’t meant to be. And you were right... I never worried about my reputation before. So, it wasn’t really your fault.”

Truthfully, he’d always rather enjoyed having a status as a player. His guy friends had treated him with a sort of awe and reverence. And the constant flirting of the girls had been enjoyable as well. His reputation had never mattered until he met Emily. He rubbed his temples—his head was hurting. This had been a terrible day, but he felt almost relieved his sister knew the truth.

He brightened a bit. “You can make it up to me.”

“How?” She narrowed her eyes.

“There are some people going to the Green Scene tomorrow night, and I think the girl who took that tabloid picture might be there. I want to go so I can confront her. But Becca’s going to be there, and I don’t want to do anything to encourage her.”

“So you want me to go with you and run interference?”

“Would you do that?”

“Absolutely, big brother. It would be my pleasure.”

“I thought that sounded like the sort of devious thing you’d like. And one more thing…”

“What?”

Spencer took three quick steps to grab the kitchen door and pull it open. Three sisters tumbled into the room on top of each other.

He speared them with a stern look until they all stopped giggling. “All of you will keep this information to yourselves. Or else!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they keep their mouths zipped. Really. I mean it. You’ll see.”

“I’m not holding my breath.” He headed up the stairs to work with his father.

“So, I went t
o
a hot yoga class last night,” Connie confessed to Anne as she set up a fresh IV.

“I’ve heard of that. What is it, exactly? Was it fun?”

“Well, let’s see. How can I describe it? They put you in what you think is an exercise room, but actually turns out to be an oven. Then they turn the temperature up to about two hundred degrees. I know it was below boiling, because all the sweat that ran off of me soaked into my clothes and then started falling into puddles on the floor mat. Only a little hotter and it would have turned into steam.”

Anne started giggling. “So you just stood in a room and roasted?”

“Oh no. Then they make you get into strange and contorted positions, so you can lose your balance and fall into the sweat puddles and splash your neighbors.”

Anne was laughing harder. “Ow! You’re making my stomach hurt.”

“I should have suspected something when I first went in the room because it smelled so bad. But you can’t imagine the aroma of all those people sweltering and sweating together for an hour. I don’t know if my eyes were watering from the fumes or from the sweat running into my eyes.”

“Stop! Please!” Anne laughed. “I can’t believe you stayed in there for an hour.”

“I tried to get out,” Connie declared with a straight face. “The door was locked. I banged on the glass door and screamed for help, but the people on the outside of the glass simply laughed and turned up the thermostat.”

“Ohmygosh—you’re killing me!”

“I passed out and almost drowned in my personal pool of sweat. But just in time the class ended. When I stepped out into the air conditioning, my sweaty clothes froze stiff. So I had to pry them off in the locker room, and I threw them away, rather than touch them again.”

“So, I guess that’s the end of hot yoga for you?” Anne wiped at tears of laughter.

“Oh no. I sweated away five pounds in an hour—it was worth it.” Connie laughed. “I’ve known I needed to lose a few pounds for a while, but being around you has made me feel like an elephant.”

“Right now, I’d make a stork feel like an elephant. Please don’t use me as your measure.”

“No, I’m kidding. My nursing training has motivated me to try to be healthier. I’m trying to exercise and eat better, too. And I’m determined to fatten you up a bit as soon as we can.”

Would she ever really be able to gain weight? Every bite of food was still a challenge. Her nausea was barely in control, and strong smells still made her sick. But she couldn’t let people know, especially Steven. She had to be strong for him—he already worried too much. She plastered on a happy face.

“Thanks, Connie. I’m sure I’ll be able to eat more and more each day. You’ve been a life-saver for me.”

Connie gave her shoulder a little pat. “You hang in there, honey. We’ll get it figured out.”

“How’s Spencer?” Anne asked, trying to sound casual.

“He was over at the house last night, working with Joe. I only saw him for a bit after I came home from hot yoga. He seemed more quiet than usual, but he was probably tired.” She smiled proudly. “He always makes time to come and help his father.”

“He seems like a great guy. I can’t imagine raising five kids. Are your girls as mature as Spencer?”

Connie shook her head. “Uhmm, no. Not quite. But they’re getting there.”

“I’d love to meet them. Emily really likes your family. Maybe we could get together when Charlie comes to visit.”

“Now, Charlie is...?”

“Charlotte, actually. She goes by Charlie. She’s my younger daughter.”

“That could be really fun, although it might be a little loud, with six girls together. How old is Charlie?”

“She’s about to be twenty-three.”

“And is she a CPA like Emily?”

“Oh no. Charlie is more of a... free spirit.” Anne chuckled. “She started college, but she had no idea what she wanted to do. So—at least for now—she lives in Colorado and leads rafting trips in the summer and teaches skiing in the winter. She’s my adventurous, outdoorsy girl.” Anne cocked her eyebrow at Connie. “To tell you the truth, when they all met last fall, I thought she and Spencer might hit it off.”

Connie’s eyes sparkled. “But it seems like Emily and Spencer have hit if off instead, doesn’t it?”

“Well, not that I want to be an interfering mother—” Anne paused and then smirked. “Who am I kidding? I love being an interfering mother. I wonder if there’s anything we could do to spur the relationship along?”

“What about Emily? Do you think she likes Spencer?”

“I think she’s afraid of liking him. I think she’s afraid of liking anyone.”

“Why’s that?”

“She wants everything planned out, and she likes to control things. And I think she’s afraid to trust a guy. I’m really afraid Spencer will give up before she lets her defenses down.”

“He doesn’t really talk to me. Maybe the girls—I don’t know for sure. I might ask Grace what she thinks. Surely we’ll think of something.”

“Yes, we’ll have to think of something.”

Anne’s cell phone rang. “Hi, Steven.”

“Hey, Sweetheart. I’ve got news for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Your first fan mail has started arriving. At least I assume that’s what it is. We have a stack of letters addressed to Mrs. Anne Gherring, care of Gherring Inc.”

“Seriously? Fan letters? What if it’s hate mail instead?”

“It’s possible, but not likely. Or it could even be people asking for money. But the HER Foundation told me they thought your interview would raise awareness. They expected some women to contact you. You can even refer them all to the foundation if you want. I want to screen them for you, though, just in case there are any nutcase letters.”

“Have there been any more articles in the tabloids?”

“No. Evidently, NYC Word doesn’t consider you newsworthy since you went mainstream.”

“I’m really glad it’s over,” said Anne.

“Yes, well... You know it’s not exactly over. The HER Foundation mentioned having you as a keynote speaker for a fundraiser.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. “I’m actually hoping my appeal will wear off before I have to do something like that.”

“We’ll see. But don’t count on it. You could work on writing a speech in all your spare time at home,” he teased.

“I’d like to do some real work. Surely there’s something I could do from home. I’m hoping I can go back to work in a week or two.”

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm? What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Just hmmm.”

“I think that’s short for I’m avoiding this subject. Don’t you need me at work?”

“Nope, not at all. Things are so much better without you here.”

“Steven!”

“What do you want me to say? Of course I miss you. We all do. But right now your health and the baby’s health are the priority.”

Anne let out a huge sigh. “I know, but I don’t feel useful.”

He chuckled. “When I come home tonight, I’ll feel you and see if you feel useful.”

“No thanks. I don’t need any help to know how I feel.”

“But I want to help.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Steven, you’re incorrigible.”

“Oh yes, I’m definitely encouragable.”

Spencer’s heart was beating fast. He was simply planning to drop by Emily’s desk and have a casual conversation. But then he’d seen her. She’d worn her hair down today, and she was even more beautiful than before. He steeled his nerves and stopped beside her cubicle.

“Hey, Emily. Your hair looks nice. What’s the occasion? I’ve never seen you wear it down before.”

Two rosy patches appeared on her cheeks. “Uhmm, I don’t know. I just thought I’d try something different.”

“I didn’t even know you had curls. Or do you curl it? I never understand my sisters. They use curling irons and straightening irons. Sometimes they use both of them at the same time. Sometimes they use the straightening iron to curl their hair. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“I’m too lazy to do all that. Mine’s always curly, so I put it in a braid most of the time. It’s easier to control.”

“Oh...” He suddenly felt tongue-tied. “Uhmm... I talked to my mom last night. She said your mother’s doing really well. I’m glad she’s better.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Uhmm, so... Are you going to be with your parents all night? I mean, if you finish early, you should call. I’m probably going to listen to some jazz tonight.” When she looked hesitant, he quickly added, “And Grace is going to come.”

Emily’s entire face turned red. “I’ll... I’ll probably be there all night.”

“Oh, okay. Sure. I understand.” Was she really going to be there all night? Or was she merely making up an excuse to avoid being with him. He was probably being too pushy again. “I just thought I’d let you know. I thought Grace would like it if you came.”

“But next time I’ll go.” She was tapping her fingers nervously on her desk. “I mean... I like jazz. So, you know...”

“Yeah. Okay. Next time.”

“Or who knows? Maybe I’ll get a wild hair and go on the hike.” She kept her gaze fastened to her hands.

“The long hike this weekend? The one with the overnight camping trip?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about the camping thing. Maybe next time.” She glanced up with a shaky smile.

“Sure. Next time. See ya later.”

He pondered Emily as he returned to his desk. She was definitely acting awkward. Was it because of what Grace had told her about Becca’s phone calls? He tried to think of some casual way to let her know the truth. Well, the truth about Becca. He didn’t want her to know he’d never actually dated any girls before—she’d think he was a geek.

His phone vibrated with another message from Becca. She’d already sent three texts that day. What this time?

Found a new drink to try tonight. Slippery Nipple. LOL!

Why would she send him a text like that? The girl was certifiable. He turned his phone off and tried to concentrate on work and ignore his headache. And his heartache.

Emily couldn’t decide what to wear to her date—no, her
meeting
—with Asher Denning. It wasn’t a date according to strict interpretation of the Best Dating Rules. She’d planned to dress casually until Becca suggested wearing a dress.

She’d avoided talking to Charlie about it, suspecting her sister might disapprove. But after pulling almost everything she owned out of the closet, she gave up and called her.

“Hey, Sister,” Charlie answered. “It’s about time you called. I’ve called twice this week, and you didn’t call back.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been... busy. But, I need clothes advice for tonight. Can you Skype with me?”

“Sure. Give me a few seconds.”

They connected on Skype, and Charlie appeared on the screen, her curly hair tucked up in its usual baseball cap. “You must be desperate to be asking me for advice on what to wear.” Charlie chuckled. “You usually scoff at my wardrobe.”

“That’s not true. You have great taste in clothes, but you usually choose not to wear your cute things and dress like a guy instead.”

“Yes. That’s because I like to shock people when I actually dress up. So what’s the deal tonight?”

“I’m going to get coffee with my new art teacher. We’re gonna talk about my options. He thinks this class may be too elementary for me.”

“And you couldn’t have talked about this after class? And you’re worried about what to wear. Let me guess. This isn’t a fifty-year-old, fat, bald guy. Is it?”

“No. He’s thirty two and really good-looking. Blond. Weight lifter. English accent. But it’s not a date. We’re meeting at the coffee place, and I’m planning to buy my own drink.”

“So, you’ve decided to start dating, and you’re not giving Spencer the first shot?”

She’d known Charlie would react like this. “It’s not a date. I told you—”

“I know what you said. But, you’re wearing your hair down, and that look on your face tells me you might let him kiss you if he tried.”

She felt heat rising in her face. “I would not!”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Whatever you say. Tell me about the place you’re going. And what are my clothing options?”

Emily picked up the computer and pointed it toward the bed littered with clothes.

“Ohmygosh! That’s everything you own.” She sighed. “Pants, shorts, dress?”

“Well, Becca said I should wear a dress to this place.”

“Becca?”

“Yes. That’s one of the girls from the hiking trip. You know—Betty Boobs?”

“And you’re taking advice from her?”

“No, I’m asking for your advice.”

“Okay. I wouldn’t go really dressy. Why don’t you wear a skirt and a blouse?”

“This one?” Emily held up one of her black linen work skirts.

“No. Wear something short. You might as well show off your legs. Yeah, that one.”