But Ainsley had learned not to think about the leaving or how much she’d miss them when they were gone. What mattered was the time they had and that it remained free of discord. Over the years, neither she nor any of her siblings had wanted to diminish their parents’ joy in coming home, not by even a moment. So they’d kept the little issues, the little heartaches, to themselves, choosing not to sully the small amounts of time they had together as a normal family.
Which was why Ainsley was making more effort than usual to be her bright, bubbly, carefree, and not serious self. This was a truly special time for her family and she wasn’t going to spoil it by letting anyone see that she was suffering. Especially since she was singly and solely responsible for her own misery.
Even had she been inclined to share, she wasn’t sure she could bear her mother’s assurances that a little heartache would keep her sensitive. Nor did she want to hear her father remind her of all the problems she didn’t have to face. She didn’t want Matt patting her shoulder sympathetically. She didn’t want Miranda telling her what she should have done, what she still should do. She didn’t even want a comforting hug from Andrew, who could have come closest to actually making her feel better. Unless she counted Ivan, who had always been able to show her a silver lining, no matter how gloomy her mood.
But she couldn’t turn to Ivan this time. Thanks to her lack of forethought, discretion and simple common sense. She didn’t know what she’d do to ease the awkwardness she’d introduced into their relationship, didn’t know if there was anything she could do. But she knew, eventually, she’d have to try.
Just not today.
Today was a day to praise and support this new example of Danville philanthropy. The children’s research center was her parents’ dream, that was true, but she understood what it meant to Ivan, as well. He’d worked all of his life for this, would devote the rest of his life and every ounce of determination he had to making it a success, and she wasn’t about to do anything to lessen his pride and happiness in this moment of beginning.
The line of VIPs was moving through the front doors now and into the lobby, where the reception was to be held. The guests began to follow, bunching up in front of the building. Ainsley hung back, letting the crowd fold in around her. She didn’t want to be inside with the family just yet, didn’t want to shake hands and be congratulated. Chances are, in all the hubbub, she wouldn’t even be missed.
“Ainsley! Ainsley, wait for me!”
She stopped, looked behind her and, with sinking spirits, saw her cousin, Scott, snaking his way through the crowd toward her.
“Hi, thanks, I need to talk to you,” he said in one breath.
“Great.” She tried to look happy about it, too. She didn’t want to talk to him. Not really. Not again. But she at least owed him a sympathetic ear. “Let’s go in and get some punch and then we’ll talk, okay?”
He seemed agreeable with that, perhaps largely because, as they jostled their way through the doorway, there wasn’t much opportunity to talk. Scott didn’t hesitate, though, once they were inside. He walked straight over, got her a cup of sherbet punch, brought it back to her and, before she could raise the cup to her lips, blurted out, “There was never anything between Molly and that guy at The Torrid Tomato.”
“Hmm,” she said. “That’s good.”
He nodded. “I was hoping you’d think so.” And he launched into a rambling account of how he’d managed to uncover this information.
Ainsley listened distractedly as she looked around the room, telling herself she was not looking for Ivan, even though she stopped looking the moment her gaze found him. He was in a dark suit, which made him seem somehow stern and very seriously handsome. But then he smiled, and her heart felt the humor that was so much a part of him. He shook hands with one of the trustees and then turned to speak to Charles Danville, sharing a laugh, acknowledging an introduction. Matt joined them for a moment, and when her father drifted off with an old friend, Miranda took his place.
Ainsley watched from across the room as Ivan’s head bent to capture whatever words Miranda was speaking to him. Her heart ached a little, wishing she could be there, too, in the middle of their conversation instead of caught in the looping, convoluted chronicle of Scott’s investigations. But even if she’d been right beside Ivan, she knew she wouldn’t have been a part of it. Not really. If she’d been there, his conversation would have been less intimate, more restrained, no longer open and unreservedly honest.
Her feelings for Ivan had changed and he knew it. The easy camaraderie they’d had as close friends couldn’t surmount the uneasy tensions of unrequited love. And she was in love with Ivan, who thought of her merely as a little sister. She wasn’t even certain he considered her a grown-up. All of which meant she’d have to get used to being on the outside of conversations between Ivan and the members of her family. Over time, maybe he’d stop feeling betrayed. Over time, maybe she’d stop yearning for the way things had been. With enough time, maybe they’d reclaim a measure of the ease she’d once taken so for granted.
Miranda laughed suddenly, unexpectedly, causing her beauty to shine through warmly and vibrantly, and when she placed her hand on Ivan’s forearm in an intimate, confiding gesture, Ainsley felt a physical ache around her heart. She’d wanted to make a match between her sister and Ivan, and apparently the seeds she’d sown—however indiscreetly—had taken root. Miranda might never have thought about Ivan as a possible match, but once the idea was in her mind, it seemed as if she just couldn’t ignore it. And from the look on Ivan’s face as he smiled down at her, he had obviously reconsidered his opinion of the possibilities as well.
How fittingly ironic, Ainsley thought, that this would be the match she’d actually gotten right.
“So,” Scott concluded. “What do you think?”
She thought she wanted to go home. “It’s what you think that counts,” she said truthfully, if a little vaguely.
“But I want your advice, Ainsley. I need your opinion as a matchmaker. What should I do about Molly?”
“Whatever your heart tells you,” she said, because really, what did she know? It might actually work for him. “Be brave for once, Scott. Do what you want to do.”
“Dad won’t like it. No one in the family will.”
She lifted her eyebrow, challenged him to step out and change his life, if that’s what he wanted. “Is that more important to you than Molly?”
He seemed to get taller, right before her eyes. “You’re right. What’s important is how I feel about Molly.”
She offered him the best smile she could manage and hoped he’d take it for encouragement. She still believed he and Molly were a bad idea. She still believed he’d have found a better match in Shelby Stewart. But Ilsa was right. Her job as a matchmaker was to introduce the possibilities and then step back and see what happened.
“Thanks, Ainsley.” Scott pumped her hand excitedly. “You’re a terrific matchmaker. I mean it. Really terrific.”
Her gaze slipped sadly back to Ivan and Miranda. She was a terrific matchmaker, she thought with a sigh. A really terrific matchmaker.
* * *
Ivan felt her gaze on him, and it was all he could do to pretend he was unaware. He knew if he looked over at her, her glance would skitter away, as if she hadn’t been looking at him at all. He knew if he approached her, she’d find a hasty reason to be somewhere else. He knew if he tried to apologize, it would only embarrass her…and make him feel worse. If that was possible.
Ilsa had advised him to be patient, to give Ainsley time to sort out her emotions, to stay away from her as much as possible. He hated the pretense, missed her like crazy, but what good was there in obtaining the services of an excellent matchmaker if he didn’t follow her advice?
And the answer, of course, was none.
He’d messed up his relationship with Ainsley and didn’t know how to put it right again. Or if there was even any chance it could be right again. He was in love with a woman who considered him the next best thing to her big brother. If there’d ever been much chance she would see him in a different light, he’d scrubbed that future with one impulsive, passionate embrace.
But Ilsa had assured him she would help. She said she’d noticed a spark and thought he and Ainsley might be a match the first time she’d seen them together. She had good instincts for possibilities, she’d told him. He needed to trust her judgment and stay away from Ainsley until the moment for an introduction of possibilities came along.
But that moment would not come today.
“My family does throw the best parties,” Miranda said confidently from beside him. “Even if I do say so myself.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.” Ivan smiled at her. “Of course, before I met Matt, the only parties I’d ever been to featured birthday cake, party whistles and a whoopee cushion.”
She laughed, unexpectedly, with a throaty pleasure that made him wonder why she did it so seldom. “You’ve come a long way, Ivan,” she said.
It was true. He was light-years away from the little frame house in west Texas where he’d first dreamed of serving in a facility like this one. A long, long way from the day he’d promised Emma that he’d spend his life helping children like her. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to be here, Miranda. Or how fortunate I feel to have a part in this.”
“We’re fortunate you’re crazy enough to want to be a part of it, Ivan. Believe it or not, there aren’t that many we would trust with this endeavor. It takes a special commitment and a great deal of personal sacrifice to make the world a better place. We might have searched for years and never found anyone as gifted and dedicated as you.” She put her hand on his arm and leaned closer to confide, “Plus, it’s always nice when the perfect candidate is a close, personal friend.”
“That might make it more difficult to maintain a business relationship, you know.”
She shook her head, smiling. “Not when the business is the Foundation. Somehow, the common goal of philanthropy seems to smooth out those differences.” She paused, the smile fading. “But speaking of differences, there is one thing I wanted to talk to you about. This probably isn’t the best time, but…well, I didn’t know if you were aware that Ainsley is working as a…” Miranda stopped, as if she was hesitant to reveal the secret, or maybe a little embarrassed.
“…matchmaker,” Ivan said, saving her the trouble of saying it aloud. “I know. Matt told me.”
Miranda looked relieved. “She’s only an apprentice and I imagine she’ll have decided to pursue some other…career…before she manages to do any real harm in this one. But I thought I should warn you that she’s trying to get us together.”
“Us?” Ivan asked, although of course he knew.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, actually, I do.”
“So she spilled the beans to you, too.” Miranda shook her head and came close to rolling her eyes.
“She thinks we’d make a perfect match.”
Miranda regarded him for a moment, as if unsure how to proceed. “I hope you don’t agree with her, Ivan, because I’m afraid she’s very much mistaken about that.”
Ivan wanted to defend Ainsley, wanted to stand up for her right to be a success, wanted her to have the respect of this sister she so admired, but he also wanted to be straight with Miranda. “I imagine apprentices in every line of work make mistakes.”
“Which I hope means you’re not upset that I’m…well, not interested in that kind of relationship with you.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not heartbroken, no. I was fairly certain you’d feel that way. I even told Ainsley as much.”
“She came right out and talked to you about this?”
“I guessed,” he admitted. “She tried to convince me to consider the possibilities.”
Miranda sighed. “She was pretty obvious about it. Sometimes I wonder if she’s ever going to grow up and stop being so impulsive.”
Now, he felt he could rightfully defend her. “She has grown up, Miranda. But she isn’t like you. She’s never going to do things the way you do them or see life the way you see it. She may always be a little impulsive and she may never completely conquer her tendency to speak first and think better of it afterward. Which only means we need to celebrate who she is, and not focus on what she isn’t.”
Miranda looked surprised, if not entirely convinced. “You know, Ivan, you and Ainsley have a lot in common. Has that ever occurred to you?”
“Maybe,” he answered, trying to give little, if anything, away.
She nodded, a half smile curving her lips. “You might want to consider the possibility,” she said.
“Possibility of what?” Matt asked, coming up just in time to hear his sister’s last comment.
“The world is full of possibilities, Matthew,” Miranda said. “I would have thought you’d know that.” She moved off, greeting someone else, leaving Ivan to explain, if he cared to.
“Women are more trouble than they’re worth,” Matt stated flatly. “And sisters are the worst of the lot.”
“I never thought your sisters were all that bad.” Ivan slipped a hand into his pocket, nodded to one of the doctors on the center’s advisory board. “And since my own sister was sick from the day she was born, I’m not sure I know how aggravating she might have been under different circumstances.”
“I’m sorry, Ivan. That was a thoughtless thing for me to say. And you know I’m crazy about my sisters. It’s just lately—the past two weeks, really—they’ve been getting on my nerves.”
Ivan laughed. “Everything’s been getting on your nerves lately. I think that’s called, ‘opening-day jitters.’”
“Maybe so. I just know Miranda’s been so bossy, even Andrew has threatened to send her off with Mother and Dad when they leave. And believe me, they don’t want her with them, either.”
“What about Ainsley?” Ivan asked. He didn’t think she would have told anyone about the kiss, but he wasn’t positive she hadn’t. “What’s she done to drive you nuts?”
“Oh, nothing really. She’s just been moping around, not listless, exactly, but not herself, either. I suppose it’s because she broke her engagement to Bucky. She’s been dating him a long time.”
“They weren’t engaged,” Ivan said, a little more emphatically than he’d intended. “She told me they weren’t.”
Matt shrugged. “Maybe not, but they gave a good imitation of a couple who were planning a future together. I never thought he made her all that happy, but then I’m just her big brother. What do I know?”
“What kind of guy do you think would make her happy, Matt?”
Looking across the room at his baby sister, Matt’s expression went softly thoughtful. “That’s not an easy question for a brother to answer,” he said. “But just between you and me? I always sort of hoped she’d choose someone like you.”
“Me?”
“Well, you don’t think I’d choose a boring guy like Bucky for a brother-in-law, do you?” Matt grinned and clapped Ivan on the back. “It’d be nice to have my sisters pick somebody I actually like.”
Ivan returned the grin, with a lighter heart than he’d had only minutes ago. “You should be careful what you wish for, Danville,” he warned. “You never know but that you might get it.”
Across the room, Ainsley saw her brother thump Ivan’s elbow with his own, watched as Ivan bumped back. It was a confusing bit of male horseplay she’d seen them do many times before, the way they said, ‘Hey, that’s great,’ to each other without really saying anything at all. A less obvious ‘Good play, buddy’ th
an a slap on the butt. It was no wonder, she thought, that women didn’t understand men.
Andrew came up beside her, holding a drink in each hand. “I’m looking for a red dress,” he said.
“Good luck,” she answered.
He frowned at her. “I can’t believe it. I give you the best straight line you’re likely to hear all day and you can’t come up with anything better than good luck?”
“What did you expect me to say?”
“Oh, how about, ‘Red will clash with your hair, Andrew. Try a nice blue or green, instead.’ You know, you seem to have lost your sense of humor lately. Even your smile doesn’t seem very happy.”
And she’d thought she was doing such a good job of putting on a happy face. “This is a solemn occasion,” she said in self-defense.
He handed her one of the drinks. “Here, you need this more than Marielle.”
“Who’s Marielle?”
“My date for this auspicious occasion. Want to meet her?”
Ainsley shook her head. “I don’t think so. You keep your photography assistants around longer than you do the women you date. Oh, I forgot to ask before. How did Hayley do on her own while you were in Salt Lake City?”
“Beautifully,” he answered. “I don’t think I’ve ever come back to find the studio in better shape. So apparently, it’s only my presence that makes her break things. She still jumps a foot any time I walk into the room, but she doesn’t squeak as much.” He took a sip of his drink. “Ivan looks like he’s really enjoying himself. Anything ever come of that idea you had that he and Miranda would make a good match?”
A lump the size of New Hampshire rose in Ainsley’s throat. “Maybe,” she said as brightly as possible. “These things take time.”
“The best things usually do.” He tapped his glass against hers. “Here’s to you, Ainsley, the apprentice matchmaker,” he said. “May you always get it right.” He drank to her, then scanned the crowd. “If you see a pretty blonde in a red dress, send her my way.”
Just What the Doctor Ordered Page 17