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

“So, go get your suitcases out and take stuff off your shelves and put it in the suitcases.”

“What about the groceries?”

“Just tell him you were really hungry, so you went by the grocery store on the way home from work. Honestly, he’s a boy, so all you really need to do is feed him. If he smells food cooking when he gets there, he won’t ask any questions or be suspicious at all.”

“Right. Good idea.” Emily relaxed a little. “How is it you know so much about boys, but you don’t have one of your own?”

“There’s plenty of them hanging around all the time. I can ski and climb and raft and hike and bike with them without having one guy tied to me. They’re so needy. All the girls I know with boyfriends can’t ever do anything fun because they have to be with their guys all the time.”

“Awesome, Sis. Thanks for your advice. I hate to take my stuff off the shelves. But maybe if I’m really organized about it, it won’t be so bad.”

Emily scurried to follow Charlie’s advice before Spencer’s arrival. She decided to make spaghetti because the aroma would be really strong. She chopped up half an onion and bell pepper and sautéed it, before adding ground turkey. The smell was working on her as well—she noticed her stomach gurgling.

Spencer knocked on the door at six thirty on the dot. “Wow—what smells so good?” He waltzed in the door and proceeded straight to the kitchen. “I thought you didn’t have groceries yet?”

“I stopped on the way home from work. I didn’t want to wait for a late dinner.”

“Awesome. Spaghetti? Want me to make garlic cheese bread? Let’s see what you’ve got.” He perused her totally stocked and well-organized kitchen and raised his eyebrows. “Wow, you’ve got everything, even the spices. I can’t believe you did all this after work.”

She cringed, but his face split in a sincere smile. “I just love a girl who’s smart and efficient.” He found the supplies needed for his bread and started working.

As relief flooded her body, she hurried to finish preparing dinner. Spencer chatted about his excitement at getting the internship at Gherring Inc. He expressed admiration for her accomplishments, never suggesting Steven Gherring had given her a job she didn’t deserve.

His manner was friendly and platonic. She began to wonder if she’d only imagined his forwardness. Maybe he was simply an extremely amicable person. Maybe he only wanted to be good friends. After all, he’d never actually said he wanted to date her. That would explain why he felt comfortable making a date with another girl while talking to her. Emily knew she wasn’t good at understanding guys. She’d probably misinterpreted his intentions from the start. Surprisingly, her heart gave a little pang at this thought. Not that she liked him or anything. But he was really cute, so she was flattered by his attention. Realizing he probably gave the same sort of attention to everyone, she was a little letdown.

Soon the sauce was stewing and the water boiling for pasta. Her own stomach growled again at the scent of Spencer’s garlic cheese bread in the broiler oven.

“I guess it’s a good thing we’re eating earlier.” He chuckled as he spooned a sample of the sauce.

“How’d you get to be good at cooking? Most guys I know can barely boil water.”

“The same’s true for most girls I know, as well. But I’ve been cooking since I was a kid. Momma and Papa both worked, so I helped out as much as I could. Grocery shopping and cooking became my job.”

“So you were the oldest?”

“Yep, oldest of five. My youngest sister is seventeen. She’ll graduate from high school next year, and every one of us are going or have gone to college,” he said proudly. “That was their dream. Neither of my parents got to go when they were young, but they’ve both gone back to school and earned their degrees.”

He stopped to pull his bread from the oven. “Tell me about your family. I know you’ve got your sister, Charlie. When did you lose your dad?”

“I was eight years old, almost nine. But I’m glad Mom’s got someone now; she was alone for a long time.”

“Yeah, I have to admit those two look pretty happy together. It’s funny… I see them less since I’m working at Gherring Inc. instead of the restaurant next door.”

“The restaurant next door? Are you talking about Papa’s Place? The one Mom’s addicted to?”

“Yep, my Aunt May and Uncle George own it. I worked for them until I started this job. They’re great, and they really helped out raising the five of us.”

Emily was increasingly relaxed as dinner progressed. When Spencer got up and started washing the dishes, she took a moment to admire the view he presented from behind. She’d seen him in shorts before, when they’d gone climbing together, but she’d forgotten how nice his muscles were. His calves flexed even when he was simply standing at the sink. And she could see his shoulders straining against his t-shirt.

What was she doing? She shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Still, it was harmless—she was merely enjoying the show.

“... Hello? Emily?”

“I’m sorry. I was... Uhmm... I was daydreaming. What did you say?”

“I said we should go for a walk. You could change into shorts.” Then he glanced at the suitcases. “Or did you want me to help you unpack?”

Her mind churned. Unpacking would mean close contact. Walking was safer.

“A walk sounds good. I’ll go change.”

Outside, they strolled at a fairly nice pace. Emily was glad. She hated walking slowly—it felt like a waste of time, even if you didn’t have any particular place to go. She was afraid Spencer would try to hold hands or put his arm around her or something dreadful like that, but he kept his hands to himself. He carried the conversation, explaining all the things the city had to offer in the summer.

But Emily thought this was her chance to be proactive. Her mom had gotten herself in trouble by not speaking clearly about what she was thinking. With Spencer being so... What was he?
Assertive
—that’s what he was. Since he was so assertive, she needed to be up-front about her intentions.

“You know, Spencer. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I really don’t want to date anyone right now. I want to concentrate on my career.”

“I totally agree. I don’t want to date anyone either. I don’t know why people think you have to date. Why can’t people just do things together as friends? Most girls think if you have dinner together, you’ve become a couple. It’s such a relief to meet someone who thinks like me. I really don’t have time to date right now.”

“Really? You don’t want to date? You don’t want to date
anyone
?”

“Not now.”

“But I thought you were sort of a player. I mean, Mom said there are girls hanging around you all the time.”

“I don’t know why she said that. I mean, I have a lot of friends, and some of them are girls. But I’m not dating anyone.” Red crept up his face as he spoke.

“It’s hard to believe you aren’t dating anyone. Do these ‘friends who are girls’ know you aren’t dating them?”

“Why would it be any harder to believe I’m not dating anyone than it is to believe you’re not dating anyone?”

“I’m sorry… Fine. So you’re in a non-dating phase. If you say so, I believe you.”

“Here, let’s get a gelato. I love this place.” He led her across the street.

Emily reached into her pocket for money, but Spencer objected. “I’ll get it. It was my idea.”

“No! You can’t buy me anything.”

“Why not? Not even an ice cream?”

“No. If you pay for something, it’s a date.”

“Says who?”

“It’s our rules—me and my sister and my mom—the Best Dating Rules. It’s an official date if the guy pays for something for you or if he...” Her voice trailed off and she felt her face flushing.

“If he what?”

“Nothing. But you can’t buy me anything. Okay?”

“Whatever you say. So... Let’s go hike the AT this weekend. There’s a group going; it’s an intermediate hike, about thirteen miles.”

“Uhmm—“

He grinned as he opened the door to the gelato shop. “Okay. So we’re officially not dating. Awesome.”

“Yeah, great.” What had just happened? It seemed they were in an official relationship, albeit non-dating.

Spencer strolled down the corridor toward the break room to grab a cup of water. As he passed Emily’s desk, he watched from the corner of his eye, but she never even glanced his direction. His shoulders slumped. He’d employed every possible excuse to walk past her cubicle, but she remained intent on her work. He was so full of water and coffee he was about to bust.

Leave it to him to fall for a workaholic. But really, it was better this way. She thought he was a player—what a joke. She’d be shocked to know he’d never even kissed a girl, though not for lack of opportunity. But he had this weird thing about wanting his first kiss to be special, and no one had seemed special enough.

He had a lot of female friends, but he’d always made sure he was never alone with them. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten his reputation as a playboy of sorts, but all the girls seemed to believe it. They made suggestive comments and dressed in low cut shirts and flirted audaciously. For his part, he appreciated the scenery, but he’d had no trouble turning down what was offered. Until he met Emily.

She was different from all the other girls. She was beautiful, no doubt. She was taller than most girls, and she had long sleek muscles. She didn’t look as if she starved herself to be thin. Her hair was dark brown and shiny, always in a long neat braid. And her eyes—they were the most beautiful he’d ever seen, blue with little gold flecks in them. Her skin was amazing, and the most incredible thing was he didn’t think she wore a speck of makeup. She was naturally beautiful without any adornment.

But it wasn’t her looks that captured his attention. It was... It was... What was it? Her brains? Her wit? Her accomplishments? No, it was her smile. The first time he’d spoken to her and she’d rewarded him with that genuine smile, he’d melted inside. He knew he’d do anything to make it happen again. He could happily spend the rest of his life simply making her smile. Not that he was in love or anything. He merely liked her. Well… He liked her a lot.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t want to date. If she ever kissed me she’d be disappointed. She thinks I’m an experienced lover. Ha! What a joke. It would probably be the worst kiss of her life. But what can I do about it now. I read one time you could practice on a coke bottle—maybe I can try that. But I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, since I can’t even get her to notice me when I walk by.

He finally gave up on his waiting game, stopping to peek over her cubicle wall.

“Hi, Emily.”

She glanced up, rather dazed.

“Hi, Spencer. I was just, uhmm... I’m having trouble with my computer.”

“Want me to take a look?”

“Sure, I guess. It’s probably me. I’m sure I’m doing something wrong.”

Spencer leaned over her to examine her work. He reached out to access the keyboard and brushed against her shoulder. She jumped as if he’d burned her, and his heart fell. She didn’t even want him to touch her. He’d thought she at least liked him a little. No wonder she’d ignored him. He might as well give up on ever dating Emily Best.

“Look, you’re just in the wrong entry mode.” He tapped on her keyboard. “That should fix it. All you have to do is choose this option.”

“Thanks. I didn’t want to ask anyone because I’m supposed to know what I’m doing. But, I’ve been wasting the whole morning trying to make this work.”

She smiled.

His heart lurched. There it was—that smile. And it was only for him.

“Uhmm... No problem. Any time. I’ve worked with this program before.”

“So, uhmm... Do you want to go to lunch at Papa’s? I’m going with Mom and Steven.”

He tried to hide his surprise. Why was she asking him to go with her? He thought she wanted to avoid him.

She looked down as color rose to her cheeks. “Uhmm, you don’t have to go. I mean... If you have other plans...”

“No, I don’t have plans—I’d love to go.”

“Okay.” She lifted her huge blue sparkling eyes, peering through her lashes. “And, thank you.”

She smiled again, and his heart turned a flip inside his chest. He was in big trouble.

Anne couldn’t stop smilin
g
. Having lunch with her daughter brought such joy, and this would likely be the first of many. She’d missed Emily so much since she left Texas to move to New York. They were sitting at their usual lunch spot—a table in the private room at Papa’s Place. Papa George and May gladly accommodated Steven Gherring so he could dine away from the public eye. She and Steven had dined at this table numerous times since they’d gotten married. But today Emily was with them, and Anne was excited. She gave her husband an appreciative glance. He’d been instrumental in convincing Emily to make the move to New York. Now, if she could only get Charlie to move here as well, everything would be perfect.

Emily had brought Spencer along to lunch. Anne attempted to tamp down her curiosity. Did their relationship involved more than friendship? She thought she’d seen him glancing at her daughter with rather adoring eyes, but she couldn’t be certain. They spoke as if they were simply buddies. She really wanted to question Emily, but she’d been warned not to interfere in her love life. Since she’d been matching up couples for a number of years, Anne found it quite difficult to resist the temptation to intervene a little.

“You’re not eating your lunch, Mom,” Emily observed. “I thought pot roast was your favorite.”

“I know, but I’m not hungry.”

“And I think it’s becoming a trend,” said Steven. “Are you losing weight?”

Steven was getting worried—she had to distract him.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten on a scale. I get like this when I get stressed.” She pinned him with a playfully stern look. “Like when I thought you were sleeping with Ellen.”

“Will you never let me forget that little incident?” His lips curled in a guilty smile before he turned, clarifying to Emily and Spencer. “I was only trying to make her jealous. And nothing happened at all.”

“You called me up to your apartment with some made-up excuse, and you had Ellen lounging on your couch with a glass of wine. And you had your shirt unbuttoned. And you had soft music playing...”

“But I was only pretending to do what you said you wanted me to do,” he protested in a playful tone. He defended himself again. “She was trying to get rid of me by pawning me off on another woman.”

Spencer’s eyes were the size of saucers, but Emily was chuckling.

“I admit it,” Anne grinned. “I asked for it. But don’t you remember I could hardly eat for four days.”

“But this has been longer, hasn’t it? And what are you stressed about?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you look so good today. I’m probably worried some girl is going to steal you from me.” She winked, hoping her flirtatious remark would throw him off his pursuit.

“You do look a little thin, Mom,” Emily countered. “You should try to eat. Maybe the meat is too much. Try your salad.”

“Fine. I’ll eat something.”

Anne forked a piece of lettuce and transferred it to her mouth. She ignored the wave of nausea and forced herself to swallow. If it had only been nausea, she could have handled it. But the nagging pain seemed to be there even when she wasn’t eating.

“Maybe you should see a doctor.”

Her ploy had failed—Steven was still watching her pick at her food.

“I’m not going to the doctor every time my appetite changes a smidgeon. I promise you I’m fine. But I don’t want everyone to watch me while I eat. Can we change the subject please?”

Spencer obliged. “Well, I’m going with a group to hike the Appalachian Trail this weekend. I invited Emily, but you guys are welcome to come along.”

Anne watched her daughter’s reaction. Her eyes were a little wide. Had she really agreed to go on the hike? She didn’t usually go for outdoor activities, except for skiing.

“Thanks Spencer,” said Steven. “We’ll get back to you on that.” He looked back to Anne and indicated her food with his eyes.

Her mind wandered while Spencer explained about the upcoming hike and the group that was going. She took another bite of food and suppressed a shudder as she swallowed. Maybe Steven was right. She’d tried to ignore the symptoms that had plagued her off and on over the past month or so.

After she married Steven Gherring, she’d felt more relaxed and stress-free than she had for years. Her appetite had been great. But recently she’d had stomach pain and nausea. She hadn’t been on a scale, but her pants were hanging loosely on her hips. She’d estimate she’d lost at least ten pounds, probably more. But she’d tried not to think about it, because she had a nagging fear. Would she meet the same fate as her mom?

Her mother had lost a battle to stomach cancer when Anne was only three years old, and her father had never married again. She tried to tell herself her symptoms were different, but they matched the information she’d found on the website. She knew she shouldn’t wait. It was important to diagnose cancer as early as possible. But she couldn’t bear the thought of Steven suffering through what her father had. It wasn’t fair. Steven had been alone for fifty years. She couldn’t leave him alone again. On the other hand, it might only be an ulcer. She berated herself for assuming the worst.

She gazed at her husband as he chatted with the kids. He was so handsome. His dark hair was peppered with grey, his blue eyes intense. His face was chiseled with a strong jaw, but softened with deep dimples that appeared even when he wasn’t smiling. She loved him so much. She couldn’t tell him until she knew for sure, because she didn’t want him to be worried if it wasn’t true. But she wouldn’t put it off any longer—she’d see a doctor right away. If it was cancer, she’d fight for her life. And she’d beat it somehow. She wouldn’t leave him alone again.

Determined to call the doctor and make an appointment as soon as lunch was over, she pushed the food around on her plate to make it appear emptier.

“Anne?” All the levity disappeared from Steven’s voice. “What aren’t you telling me?”

At his words and the severity of his tone, she felt the blood drain from her face.

“Nothing. Nothing, I just… uhmm… I was trying to remember something.” She rose from the table, scrambling for an excuse. “I remember what it was. I forgot to mail our RSVP for the wedding. You know Sam and Tanner’s wedding? I’ve got to get it in the mail before it’s too late.”

“Anne!” Steven rose from his chair and pinned her with his glare. “Stop avoiding my question. What is it?”

“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just...”

She watched in confusion as the sides of the room turned black and closed in on Steven’s face. Then she saw the floor coming toward her. Then she saw nothing.

Forcing her eyes open, Anne gradually focused on Steven’s worried face.

“You’re in an ambulance. Stop trying to push the mask off your face. It’s oxygen.”

An ambulance. She was going to the hospital. She had to tell him—he couldn’t find out from the doctors. He’d be so angry. She struggled to speak, her words muffled by the mask.

“She’s trying to say something,” Steven told the paramedic. “Can she move the mask?”

“Sure, we can take it off for a minute.”

How could she break the news to him? Her eyes filled with tears, and she sobbed out the words.

“I th-think it m-may be cancer.”

“No, sweetheart, no.” He soothed her, pushing a stray strand of hair off her face. “It’s not cancer. It’s probably not a big deal. Maybe it’s appendicitis.”

“No. M-my mother died from it—stomach cancer. And now I have the symptoms. I didn’t want to tell you...”

“No! That’s not it. You have something else wrong with you. It’s not serious.” His brows creased, and his jaw flexed.

“But, my mom...”

“No! It isn’t cancer!” He blinked rapidly and rubbed at his eyes. “It isn’t—it can’t be. Not now, when I’ve only just found you. It can’t be that...” He kissed her all over her face, saying, “No, no, no, no...”

Anne sobbed even harder and grasped his neck in desperation. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do this to you.”

“Stop. You didn’t do anything, and we don’t know anything. We’ll just do tests and see what the doctor says. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Anne knew the words he repeated to comfort her were his futile attempt to convince himself.

Anne and Steven sat beside each other in tense silence. Their hands were clasped between the two upholstered armchairs in the doctor’s office in front of the empty desk.

“But what exactly did she say on the phone? Did she sound upset?” Anne asked for probably the tenth time.

“She said she wanted to talk to us together in person. That’s all. And she didn’t sound upset... And you’re squeezing all the blood out of my fingers.”

“Sorry.” She forced a weak smile, attempting to pull her hand away.

“I’m only kidding. I don’t want you to worry so much. Everything’s going to be fine. No matter what, everything’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. And you’re assuming it’s something really bad.”

“But if it wasn’t serious, wouldn’t she tell us on the phone?”

“Not necessarily—“

A creak behind them announced the doctor’s entrance through the office door.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. Thanks for coming in.” She shook their hands and sat behind her desk, opening her laptop. “Let me bring up your reports here... So.” She smiled at the nervous couple. “I know you’re worried about the possibility of cancer. And we haven’t totally eliminated that, but it’s highly unlikely.”

“Why haven’t we eliminated it?” Steven asked. “Can’t we do an x-ray or CT scan or something?”

“Well, we don’t like to use radiation during early pregnancy.” She smiled again.

“Pregnancy? I couldn’t possibly be pregnant. How could that happen?”

The doctor raised her eyebrows. “I think you know how it happens. Isn’t it possible?”

“Well it’s... It’s... I guess it’s possible. But I’m too old—I thought I was starting menopause.” She felt blood rushing to her face. “And I’ve lost weight, not gained weight—”

Steven came out of his stupor. “She’s pregnant? We’re pregnant? Are you sure?”

“Oh, it’s very certain you’re pregnant. We did a blood test. Now, at your age, this is a high-risk pregnancy. If you carry to term, you’d deliver at age forty-six.”

“What does that mean? Is it dangerous for her to be pregnant?” Steven was gripping her fingers so tightly her knuckles were white.

“No, but there’s a high chance of miscarriage or, barring that, chromosomal abnormality.” She leaned forward to emphasize her words. “You might choose to terminate the pregnancy.”

“No!” Steven almost shouted the word. She saw him flinch and turn toward her with a weak smile. “I mean, I’m sorry... I should have asked what you thought—“

“No, I agree.” She squeezed his hand. “That is, if it’s really true. If I really am pregnant, I wouldn’t want to terminate.”

“Oh, it’s really true. Now, we’ll need to help you manage this nausea so you can start eating...”

Anne stared with unseeing eyes out the limousine window as the New York City streets passed by, silence hanging heavy in the air. She glanced at Steven.

“What’re you thinking?”

“I think I’m in shock.” One corner of his mouth kicked upward, and he took her hand, raising it to his lips. “I wasn’t planning this, but now I want it to happen. A
baby
.”

“If I’d known you really wanted a baby, I’d never have married you. You should have a younger wife like I said all along.”

“You’re not going to start trying to find a different wife for me again, are you? I don’t think I could handle another of your crusades.” He chuckled, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “And anyway, I didn’t even want to have a baby until I thought I could have one with you.”

“Okay, I promise I won’t try to find you a new wife. Believe me, I’ve finally admitted to myself I never want you to be with anyone else. But can we keep it a secret for now? The doctor says I’ll most likely miscarry in the first trimester. I don’t want to tell everybody and then... You know…”

“No, we don’t have to tell anyone unless you want to. But you don’t even want to tell the girls? You’ll have to tell them something—Emily’s really worried.”

“No, I think I’d be embarrassed. And, I think they might be embarrassed, too.”

“They love you. They won’t be embarrassed.”

“I don’t know.”

“And you know you won’t be able to keep it a secret for long. Especially since the doc gave you medicine for the nausea.” He patted her thin tummy. “I can’t wait until you start getting all fat.”

“I’ll tell you right now if you ever call me fat, you’ll be sorry.”

“Okay. I promised to call you skinny the whole time, even if you look like a whale.” His adoring smile brought on another surge of tears. “What’s wrong now?”

“I don’t know...”

He scooped her into his lap. “This is just hormones making you weepy.”

“But... What happens if our baby has something wrong with him?”