The Matchmaker's Apprentice. Karen Whittenburg Toller
hadn’t had a serious relationship for a long time, but he recognized an overture when it shook his hand. “If only I’d brought my lasso or my stethoscope,” he said.
“Don’t be fooled, Luce.” Ainsley took Ivan’s arm. “He’s no match for you when it comes to flirtation.” She looked up at him, raising her eyebrows in mock warning. “Stay away from her, Ivan. She’s the kind of woman your mother warned you about.”
“Hey, no fair,” Lucinda protested good-naturedly. “I didn’t even get to ask him if he likes to dance.” Her saucy I’m available smile winged his way once again. “I’m a sucker for any guy who knows his way around a dance floor, too.”
“Or any other kind of floor,” Ainsley said. “Don’t trust her, Ivan. She’ll only break your heart.”
Ivan grinned, liking Lucinda’s naughty-but-nice routine and loving the suggestion that Ainsley—even in jest—thought he needed to be protected from her. “I’m the original klutz on the dance floor,” he said with an air of regret. “Never even learned how to hokeypokey.”
Ainsley pointed a silencing finger at the receptionist. “Do not even think what you’re thinking,” she said. “And he is much too innocent to hear it said aloud.”
Lucinda laughed. “He doesn’t look innocent,” she said, reverting to a precisely professional voice as the phone rang.
“Oh, but he is.” Ainsley tugged on his arm. “Come on. I want to show you my office. Can you believe it? I have an office!”
“So your brother mentioned.” Ivan winked at Lucinda as he happily allowed Ainsley to lead him away. Busy on the telephone, the receptionist still managed to reply with a saucy wave of her fingers.
“And it has a view.”
“Matt also mentioned the particularly stunning view.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, what does Matt know? He thinks I’m still six years old and playing Barbie Goes to the Office.”
He’d almost forgotten how cute she was. Even at thirteen, with braces on her teeth and a body that was gangly and awkward, Ainsley had been captivating. Silver-blond curls, blue eyes, dimples and an infectious giggle put her firmly in the adorable little sister category. Ivan had never known exactly why she’d so readily adopted him as a beloved older brother. Maybe it had been because Andrew often went traveling with their parents that year, while she’d been left behind to “improve her studies.” Or because Matt had gone to college and wasn’t there every day to fill the role of big brother. Or because Miranda was absorbed in her last year of high school and was impatient with the burden of being both mother and sister to them all. Probably it had been all of those reasons put together, plus more.
Whatever the reason, Ainsley had told Ivan—after he’d visited Danfair only a few times—that he would be her extra brother, and that’s the way she’d treated him ever since. It was a role he’d accepted with particular delight, teasing her as he would have teased his own kid sister, Emma, had she lived to be thirteen.
“You look very…professional,” he said to Ainsley, realizing that she did look quite grown-up in her azure blue suit, filling it out in a way he did not want to notice. He suddenly caught himself assessing the length of her skirt with a critical eye and checking the deep V of her blouse. She was showing a bit too much skin in both directions, but—extra brother or not—he knew better than to point it out. “This is a different, uh, style for you, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t think knickers and Little Mermaid T-shirts were quite right for meeting with clients.” Her dimples made another appearance. “I know it’s difficult for you and Matt to believe, but I’m not a little girl anymore.” She stepped inside a large, lovely room and flung out an arm to encompass it all. “This is it. My office.”
He took his time, walked about, looked carefully at the little touches that made this space distinctively hers. The photographs—all shapes, all sizes, all in heavy silver frames. The candles, scenting the room while casting a warm glow over the expensive furnishings. The not-quite-neat stacks of files on her desk. The colors—sunny, bright and cheerful. All of it reflected the exuberance of Ainsley. And yet, it was definitely a woman’s space, and not what he’d expected at all.
“I like your office,” Ivan said. “What do you do here?”
“Matt didn’t tell you?”
“He said I should ask you. So I’m asking. What do you do here at IF Enterprises?”
“Me, personally, you mean?” She was stalling, something he’d seen her do only when she was nervous and wanted to say one thing, but thought it more prudent to say something else.
“Yes,” he answered with a smile. “You, personally.”
“Personal relations,” she answered in a sudden rush. “It’s like public relations, only on a more, uh, personal level. It’s kind of hard to explain, but we do a lot of networking for people.”
The only occupation that came to Ivan’s mind involved résumés and high-level employment opportunities. “So IF Enterprises is some kind of elite employment agency?” he asked. “Matching a prospective client with the perfect position?”
“Something very much like that.” She gestured toward the window. “Notice the view? It’s really spectacular at this time of day.”
It was a vista of solid brick, with a sliver of sky thrown in for effect. “Spectacular,” he agreed. “I knew Matt was jealous the minute he mentioned it.”
“My poor brother,” she said with a husky giggle. “He doesn’t even try to hide his envy anymore.”
Ivan turned from the window and leaned back against it, feeling at home in a way he hadn’t since he’d left New England for the southwest. “What do you have to do to get a view like this?” His glance strayed to the haphazard piles of manila folders on her desk. “Whatever it is, it must involve a lot of filing.”
“Actually, Lucinda does the filing. My job, at the moment, is mostly research. I’m Mrs. Fairchild’s apprentice.”
“Apprentice?”
“More of an assistant right now,” she explained. “But once I’ve learned the techniques, I’ll be taking clients, too.”
Clearly, she was proud of herself for landing this position, for having this office, the stick-your-head-out-the-window-and-look-up view of the sky. And he couldn’t help but be proud of her, too, because she was so pleased with herself. He remembered all the times she’d confided her plans, wanting—needing—someone to listen and take her aspirations seriously. Matt, Miranda, even Andrew, had never seemed able to do that, so Ivan had been happy to be the “big brother” who listened and encouraged her to be whatever she wanted to be. He supposed, in their odd little family, her real siblings needed Ainsley to stay the baby, because it was important for them to feel they could protect her from the responsibilities they’d taken on too young. And as grown-up as she looked right now, there was still an air of innocence about her, a pure pleasure in her accomplishments. It was at moments like this that she reminded him of his sister, except that life had always sparkled in Ainsley, whereas in Emma it had never quite taken hold. “I’m happy for you,” he said, approval in his voice.
“Thanks,” she said, pleased. “I knew I could count on you to understand. Matt and Miranda—even Andrew, sometimes—think this is just another phase I’m going through and that I’ll change my mind about making it a career. But I really love working here and, Ivan, I’m good at it, too.”
“I never doubted it for a moment.”
She smiled as she leaned against the desk and crossed her arms at her waist, her legs at the ankles.
She’d always been a petite little thing, but there was a serious amount of leg showing between the hem of her rather short skirt and her trendy