Ian pasted on his charming smile for Ainsley's parents. He learned to play the game living in his stepfather's home. Charles Browning had certain expectations and never afforded Ian any slack. Table manners were of the utmost importance. The man cared only about money and what others thought of him. The joke was on him because he was a criminal who fled the country and escape extradition.

Ian smiled as Mrs. Douglas asked about his lineage. "My mother is from an old New York family. My grandfather worked on Wall Street. He's gone now."

"Brownings?"

"No, that's my mother's husband's name. I guess she kept it for my sister, or it has a nice sound to it." People in publishing knew her name.

"She's been married three times?"

Ian swallowed as Ainsley smiled. Was she enjoying this? "No. My parents never married. Their relationship was limited to raising me."

Carolyn pursed her lips. "Oh. And your father?"

"Has never married. He's a renowned classical pianist. He's played around the world."

Ainsley whispered, "You never said renowned."

Ian wanted to tease that he was on YouTube, but thought better of it. "He is well known in classical circles."

"I guess he doesn't collect groupies." Ainsley held her Mimosa below her grin.

"Just some wealthy women who are patrons of the symphony." Ian suspected his host might know a few women to fit the description.

"So your stepfather is related to Lois Steele?"

"Yes, my sister and I think of the boys as cousins."

"You must know our daughter is married to James Sumner."

He smiled. "Yes, I was at the wedding. Somehow I missed the prettiest bridesmaid." He watched Ainsley's cheeks change shade.

When the conversation moved on he relaxed. She had accepted his illegitimate status. He didn't care, but he didn't want it to harm his mother's reputation. Neither she nor Kurt hid him away. He remembered his mother's anger when her first husband called him a bastard. As an adult, he understood the logical conclusion to his being a bastard meant his mother was a whore. He pulled back his shoulders. Anita Browning was no whore.

After their food arrived, Mr. Douglas put his coffee cup down. The older man didn't have a mimosa. "Son, what kind of car do you drive?"

Ian couldn't hold in his laugh. "Ainsley warned me you would ask. I don't actually drive."

"What?" Carolyn looked like he said he ate from the litter box.

"Mom, he grew up in New York."

"And came to Boston for college. I've never needed to learn, and it isn't practical."

Ainsley nodded. "My car just sits. I haven't driven it since Lilli's wedding."

Carolyn swallowed her pride. "Where did you go to school?"

Ian answered with complete confidence and impressed both parents. The more challenging question was why it was so important to him?

Ainsley squeezed his hand, as he focused on her father's questions about IT. He was an entrepreneur so he had enough general knowledge to carry on a discussion. Seeing boredom on the wife's face, Ian changed the subject hoping Ainsley would not hate him.

"You must be excited about becoming a grandmother."

They were halfway through their meals and Ainsley was on her second mimosa when her mother stopped talking about the baby who had months before it was to be born. Hopefully, Olivia would make his mother equally happy someday.

As soon as he put his fork down. Ainsley drained her glass. "We can't stay. We had to push back another invitation as it is. It would be rude if we were late."

Ian nodded knowing they had no firm time to go to his father's house. Propriety was everything to Carolyn. "Of course. Go. It was so nice to see your face and to meet you, Ian."

Once outside, Ainsley sighed. "Her formula is the perfect amount of guilt mixed with praise."

"They love you, and I think I passed the test."

Ainsley giggled. "My mother would never dare to insult Alicia Sumner. She has always been on the fringe of the social circle. Trapping James moved her inside, but my mother knows she needs to be careful."

"Would Alicia care if she didn't like me?"

"Definitely, the Sumner and Dwyers. Lilli told me how tight they are."

Ian nodded. "Like family. I just feel on the fringe too."

Ainsley squeezed his hand. "I think you are the only one who sees yourself there."

He shrugged. "Maybe. Ready to meet my dad?"

"After meeting his brother, I'm looking forward to it."

Ian didn't expect a simple phrase would go straight to his heart. It was extremely important for Ainsley to like his father. His two closest friends. After the car dropped them off, as they approached the door, her feet grew sluggish. He looked down at her feet. Women were warriors to walk in heels. Ian found her ankles incredibly sexy.

Before he opened the door, he turned to face her. "You ready?"

Slowly she nodded. He squeezed her gloved hand and turned the knob. In the entryway, he called out. "Hello."

Margot appeared first. "Ian, hello." She smiled. "You must be Ainsley. Come in. Take off your coats."

Ian helped Ainsley out of hers, before taking off his own. He hung them on the coat rack in the corner. He remembered when he couldn't reach to hang his coat up. His father would lift him. Visits to Boston were always filled with laughter and being lifted up. He laughed with his mother and she hugged him, but she stopped picking him up long before Andrew had.

"Where's my dad?"

"He should be home soon. He went to play tennis."

Ian nodded. "I'll go play. Come with me?" He held his hand out to Ainsley.

Margot pointed to the kitchen. "I was about to put the kettle on. You could join me."

Ian leaned in. "It's up to you."

She smiled bravely. "Okay. Then I'll listen to the maestro."

Ian chuckled. "That's my father, not me."

Margot shook her head. "He plays wonderfully too."

Margot's presence might feel strange to him, but she and Ainsley were a good pair. They were both interlopers to the Gillespie father and son duo, except to him Ainsley belonged. Duh, Andrew would feel the same about Margot. Ian was the problem by being resistant. If his dad walked in and didn't welcome Ainsley, it would disappoint him. Grow up, Ian.

When his fingers hit the ivory, he submerged himself in the music. As the piece quieted to the last note, applause started. He turned to see his audience. Both women were smiling as they sat with their teacups. He stood and gave a little bow like he had seen his father do after a solo performance.

"You are amazing." Ainsley's smile was contagious.

"No question who your father is even if you didn't look so much alike."

Ian had heard it all his life, but Ainsley's brows shot up. Apparently, he hadn't mentioned the resemblance.

"Should I pass a hat?" Ian teased.

"You can play for your supper anytime." Margot laughed.

Ian winked. "I wasn't invited last night."

Margot's face fell slightly. "It was a nice chance for me to get to know David and Rose. You two would have stolen the attention. I heard you had an important job."

Ainsley laughed. "Don't listen to him. We were thrilled to have Brooke to ourselves."

Ian nodded. "I was kidding, honest. I tried to be funny."

"Like father, like son. Ian, this is your home, you are always welcome."

He appreciated her effort, but it had been years since he spent the night. He took a seat next to Ainsley on the sofa. Neither spoke for a pregnant pause. He was about to ask Ainsley if she liked her tea, when he heard the front door.

Andrew appeared. "Oh Ian, you're here."

"Dad, this is Ainsley."

She smiled. "Hello, Mr. Gillespie."

"Andrew, please. I've always been informal with Ian's friends." Andrew smiled. "Ian, do you need a drink?"

"Not tea. I'll get myself some water. I met Ainsley's parents today."

Margot smiled. "You must have charmed them."

Both he and Ainsley spoke at the same time.

"He did."

"I tried."

Everyone laughed. Before he stood Andrew returned with two glasses of water. After handing one to his son, he sat in an empty chair which matched the one Margot sat in.

Margot asked, "Andrew, what was Ian like as a boy."

The older man smiled. "Very easygoing. Which was a good thing because I knew nothing about being a parent. I couldn't see him much when he was very little."

Margot asked, "How old was he when he started coming to Boston?"

"Not until he was old enough to talk on the phone. It was hard for Anita to let him go. I understood, but it was hard for me to go back and forth to New York all the time. If only Kurt was her first and only husband."

Ian turned his head. "Then I wouldn't have my sister."

"True. That was a long time ago. We did the best we could, given the circumstances."

"Dad, you were great. I never questioned your love."

Andrew smiled. "Thank you. Ainsley, tell us about yourself. My son's been holding out on us."

She looked at Ian. He nodded, and she gave a brief background.

Margot put her hand on her heart. "I love how you lived and worked together and didn't know."

"And have the same friends. My best friend is married to Kurt's nephew."

"Remarkable. What a perfect romance."

Ian and Ainsley's eyes met. Did she feel the same?

"We could have met a million other times. If I hadn't hurt my leg, I would have gone to Zach's wedding."

"If I hadn't left early from the anniversary party and a bunch of other gatherings. My sister is married to a Sumner."

"I believe Andrew and I found each other when the time was right. Maybe you are the same."

"Maybe." Ian repeated. He worried the timing was wrong.

Ainsley squeezed his hand. She sensed when his doubt crept in. He should be honest but she adamantly didn't want to discuss work with him. Perhaps he should try harder.

Sighing, he said, "We should go. Now everyone has met Ainsley."

"Not your grandparents."

Ian smiled. "They can meet Margot first. They're staying here right."

Andrew cleared his throat. "Yes. We haven't figured it out yet. "

"Does it feel like high school? Dad, I think they know. I'm here."

"Don't be fresh. This is what he was like as a teen."

Ainsley pinched his cheek. "Poor Ian."

He shot up. "Okay, I'm leaving. Are you coming?"

She laughed. "Yes. Thank you both."

She met him by the door for her coat. "Come again." Andrew winked.

Once outside, the cold air embraced them. "Phew. I think I'll be glad to go to work. It was quite a weekend."

"In there." Ainsley pointed to his father's steps, "Was better than brunch."

"Definitely. Can you walk or should we get a car?"

"I can walk. Hold on."

He watched as she took shoes out of her bag and changed out of her heels. It wasn't even her large bag she used for work.

"Is it a magic bag?"

"Nope, but it only has the essentials."

"Shoes are essential."

"You try walking in heels on cobblestones."

"I'll take your word for it. The fresh air is refreshing."

They walk quietly hand in hand. Ian decided he would tell her on Monday or Tuesday. Definitely soon.

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