Many, many thanks to Addicted1! She looked it over for me and helped with some scenes I was stuck on.

This turned out longer than I'd thought it would, so it's going to be split into a few chapters.

David rushes around the mess of his apartment, tossing last minute items into his bags as he brushes his teeth. He can't shake his nerves. In two hours, he'll be on a flight to London – seeing his family for the first time in two years (not long enough in his opinion) – and he'll be with her.

Listening to her message about sending a messenger over to get her ticket had only served to ratchet up his nerves. He still can't believe he'd hired an escort. Something he thought he'd been morally opposed to until he'd been right up against the date of the wedding without a date. He'd needed someone to take, and not just anyone. He'd needed someone who could convince his family that he wasn't the sad-sack they considered him to be. That he'd met someone and fallen in love – moved on. He needed them to believe it. He can't take any more looks of pity. And it doesn't help that she is the maid of honor. Mary Margaret; queen of breaking his heart.

The messenger knocking on the door startles him out of his thoughts and he stubs his toe on the way to answer it. Swearing softly, he pulls open the door. "Just a second," he tells him, limping over to the envelope in his drawer. Pulling it open, he scribbles her name on the front and goes to hand it over. "Last chance to change my mind," he says, hesitating. At the messenger's look of confusion, he adds "It's a plane ticket for my date."

The guy whistles. "Must be some date if you're taking her on a trip."

"I hope so." David lets out a nervous breath before relinquishing his hold on the envelope. "Thanks."

It's as he's gathering his passport and making sure he has everything he needs in his wallet that he catches sight of the picture he hasn't quite been able to remove from it. It's lost it's place of honor in the front, shoved to the back under too many unnecessary receipts and folded bills. Mary Margaret's bright smile shines back at him, the same diamond that she'd since returned to him sparkling on her finger.

This week was going to be hell.

An alarm on his phone goes off and he jumps. "Shit," he says, glancing at the time. One last check around the apartment and he's off.

He leans his head back against the seat, eyes closed as he breathes deeply, trying to calm his nerves when he hears his name.

"David?"

He opens his eyes, momentarily stunned by how beautiful she is – he'd imagined by the sound of her voice, but his imagination pales in comparison to the real her – and then jumps to his feet.

"Regina," he greets, "I'm glad you made it." Of course she did, you paid her to he thinks as he shakes his head with embarrassment. "Sorry."

She leans in and pecks his cheek, oozing confidence that he's lacking as she slides past him to take her seat. "Sorry we had to take a later flight," she apologizes as he sits next to her. "I know you wanted to have more time before the party."

"That's alright. Work must be busy."

He grimaces and drops his head for a moment, remembering her profession. She only bites back a smile. "Relax, David. Everything is going to be alright."

"I feel like I should warn you about my family," he tells her, trying to settle back in his seat again. "They're a little intense. My twin brother James is the one getting married and he and I haven't been super close since we were little. My half sister Emma, though, is amazing. Just about the only good thing to come out of my mom's marriage to that bastard, Albert. My mom is the sweetest person you'll ever meet, but for some reason, she loves him. Charlotte, the bride, is great-no idea what she sees in my brother-but she's been best friends for her whole life with the the maid of honor –"

"Mary Margaret," she interrupts, smiling softly at him. "David, my job is to make this week the smoothest possible for you. Don't worry – no one is going to know, and Mary Margaret will see that you have someone else in your life to love you. We'll have fun, and you'll forget all of this stress."

"I hope that's true," he says, leaning his head back. "I feel like this wedding's going to send me to an early grave."

He's caught off guard by the feel of her fingers slipping through his own to take his hand. "I'm here, David. This is what I do. Trust me."

He nods and closes his eyes, hoping to get a little sleep to make up for the tossing and turning he'd done the night before.

They arrive a little late. She'd changed quickly in the airport, looking even more stunning in her bright blue dress than she had in her travel clothes, but he'd had a little more trouble. Sleep and two glasses of airline alcohol hadn't managed to settle the bundle of nerves that grew the closer he got to reuniting with his family and his ex. He'd finally emerged from the restroom with his tie in his hand, apologizing once more for how nervous he was and she'd replaced his shaking hands with her own steady ones, tying it for him before placing a hand to his chest and once more reassuring him.

"You're here!" Ruth gushes, hurrying over to him. "Oh, my handsome boy, look at you! And look at you," she says, turning her attention to Regina. "David's been keeping you a secret, but I'm so glad he's found someone."

"I can see why he'd want to keep her to himself," James says, coming up to slap his brother on the back as he winked in Regina's direction. "Good to see you, brother. Next time, don't wait so long."

"Gross." Regina turns to find a blond woman grinning at the pair. "Emma," she says, extending her hand to her. "You must be Regina."

"David speaks very highly of you," Regina says with a smile.

"I have to go find Charlotte to introduce you," Ruth says before disappearing into the crowd.

"I think MM has been driving her crazy," Emma says with an eyeroll.

David gives her a tightlipped smile. Mary Margaret could be intense at times; he could only imagine what her role as Maid of Honor had turned her into.

"You're late."

Regina frowns at the man who seemed to appear out of nowhere with a scowl on his face.

"You know that this week is important to your brother."

"Yes, Albert, I know."

"We're amongst family, David, you can't call me father for a few days?"

"That's James," David corrects. "I never saw you as my father."

Albert looks livid for a second, but then his expression smooths over and he turns to Regina with a smile. "Albert Spencer."

Regina nods her head at him politely. "Regina Mills."

"Get lots of sleep this weekend," Albert advises David as he turns to leave. "You're going to need it since you've left yourself no time to recover from jet lag."

"My stepfather," David says needlessly. "Let's go hang up our jackets."

Regina follows him through the crowd to the coat closet, smiling thankfully at him as he helps her out of her coat.

"Sorry," he says as his fingers brush against the exposed skin of her shoulder.

When he's hung his jacket up next to hers, he pulls an envelope from his jacket and hands it to her. "It's all there, you can count it."

"I trust you."

"Please count it," he says nervously.

She gives him a considering look before she finally opens the envelope to thumb through the bills.

"I'm sorry, I've just never done anything like this before."

"It's alright," she assures, "It's all here." She tucks it into her purse. "This covers the full week, but of course it will be an extra thousand if you want to be intimate. And I will need notice and payment beforehand."

"No," he shakes his head quickly. "I'm sorry, I just mean…I don't think I could pay a woman…for sex."

She takes his hand. "You're not paying me for sex, you're paying me for my company, ease of mind, to loosen some of this tension you've let build up, for whatever you need. And stop apologizing. You're not my first new client."

"I'm sorry, of course not." He shakes his head. "Sorry."

She raises an eyebrow. "It's also annoying."

He clears his throat awkwardly. "We should get back out there, I guess. The toasts are going to start soon."

She follows him out into the crowd amassing around his mother and stepfather.

"Thank you all for coming out," Albert starts, and David once again feels Regina slip her hand into his, leaning into him comfortably.

He wishes he could be as at ease as she seems to be all of the time, and he tries to absorb some of her calm as his stepfather continues.

"I know it was a bit of a gamble since the last time one of our sons sent out invitations, it fell through. James was always the ladies man, and David was the charmer. We were sure he'd be the first to be married and he almost was, but we all know how that turned out."

There are a few clearing of throats in the awkward silence that follows, and then Albert seems to get back on track. "We're here now, though, and I couldn't think of a lovelier pair than James and Charlotte. To the bride and groom!"

"To the bride and groom," everyone toasts.

"Just like dad to make a terrible toast," Emma pipes up from behind them.

Regina turns them and wraps her arm around David's waist as she continues to lean against him. "Yes, he didn't seem to have much to say."

"He's got a stony exterior, but underneath…he's pretty much the same. Dad's never been a softy."

"Are you going to be staying at the house with us?" David asks. "Mom said you'd thought about staying with some friends while you were in town."

"I'll probably do a few nights with friends and stop by the house occasionally. I won't join you until the night before the wedding. There are some people I'd like to catch up with between these events. Oh, there's August! I'll see you guys later?"

David smiles and nods as his sister practically sprints across the room.

"She lives in the States, too," he explains. "We see each other more frequently, but it's not very often either of us make it back here."

"Do you have anyone you want to visit while you're here?"

"All of my close friends are going to be at the wedding, and I'm mostly anxious to just be back in New York, away from all of this."

"How long did you live in London?"

"Several years. We moved here when my mom married Spencer – when I was about seven. I didn't move back until I went to college."

"And Emma doesn't have an accent?"

"No, with three of us Americans in the house, she never developed one. Or, people here would say she did," he laughs. "Albert wasn't too pleased about it, but that's Emma. Free spirit. I'm going to go get us some drinks. Any preferences?"

She smiles. "Red wine is fine."

There's a small line at the bar, so Regina uses the time to explore a little. She weaves through the crowd, people watching and her eye catches on open French doors leading to a modest balcony overlooking a field. It's beautiful, and she changes course, looking forward to the fresh air.

Leaning against the railing she inhales deeply – not something she gets a chance to do very often in New York – she doesn't often leave the city. The air smells wonderful – spring hasn't turned to summer yet, so the flowers are still fresh and the leaves on the trees are still a bright green.

"Are you escaping, too?"

She startles a bit at the voice and turns to find a smiling pixie haired brunette. "Just came out for some fresh air."

"Weddings are hard without a date," the woman agrees, and Regina frowns at the assumption she doesn't have a date, but doesn't correct her. "It's hard watching James get married when he's so much like David. I was engaged to David for awhile, but well…I saw him in there just now, and it feels like no time has passed. Hard not to feel some of those old feelings come back. When I thought about him coming back, I entertained the idea of us maybe getting back together, but I heard he's brought someone with him, and—"

"Here you are!" David is suddenly at her side, handing her the glass of red she'd wanted and wrapping an arm around her waist, kissing her temple before feigning surprise at seeing Mary Margaret standing next to them. "Mary Margaret! How are you? I see you've met Regina?"

Mary Margaret shifts on her feet, her smile toward Regina dimming. "Not officially, we just bumped into one another. I'm Mary Margaret."

"Regina. Nice to meet you."

Emma blessedly saves the day when she pokes her head outside. "David! Come bring Regina to meet Charlotte. I've managed to track her down, but she's the bride and it won't be long before someone else swoops down on her."

"Be there in a sec." He puts his hand on the small of Regina's back. "Nice seeing you again, MM," he lies.

Charlotte is slightly tipsy, a combination of not enough food and the many champagne toasts in her honor, but she's a delight, and Regina finds herself truly enjoying the woman's company. She's a fiery redhead, passionate, hilarious, and very warm. She's easy to like, and Regina can see how James hangs on her every word and watches her in awe. Like he can't believe how lucky he is to be marrying her.

David notices, too, and it's odd to see his brother looking so light. James had always taken more after their stepfather, but Charlotte seems to have brought out a different side to him.

"So, Regina," Charlotte leans in with a grin. "What do you do? David has been woefully remiss in giving us the details."

Regina feels David tense at her side – they hadn't talked about what they'd say, but she leans back against him, pulling his arm around her waist and threading their fingers together over her stomach. "I'm a photographer."

"Oooo, you must show me some of your photos. If you're willing, of course. I've always envied those with an artistic eye, I'm complete shite with a camera."

"Nonsense, I'm sure you're fine. I'd love to show you a few. I can even show you a few tricks if you'd like? Make you feel more comfortable behind the lens."

"I'd love that! We'll make time before you go back to the States. David, how did you manage to snag such a lovely person? I'm absolutely delighted you've brought her along. I think we'll be fast friends." She winks at Regina as Regina chuckles easily.

"The pleasure is mine."

It's late when they finally arrive at the house. David helps Regina carry her bags inside, but when he starts to lead her toward Emma's room, Ruth stops him.

"Nonsense, David, Regina's staying with you in your room."

"Albert's always insisted on separate rooms, I figured—"

"No, dear, I talked him into letting the two of you share the room in case Emma decides to stay the night afterall. You're an adult now, it's silly to insist on such old-fashioned nonsense."

"Oh." David finds himself at a loss for words at the unexpected change of plans. "Alright. Well, 'night, Mom."

He kisses her cheek and she cups his face, her eyes warm as she studies his face. "It's so good to have you home." She turns to Regina as she lets her hands fall, "It was lovely to meet you, dear. I'm looking forward to getting to know you a bit more."

"The feeling is mutual. Goodnight, Mrs. Spencer."

"Please, call me Ruth."

She leaves them to the room, and Regina looks around with a suppressed smile as she takes in the teenage David décor.

"This is embarrassing," he tells her, tucking their bags into the corner. "You can't judge me too harshly, this room hasn't been touched in almost two decades."

"No judgment," she laughs. "I recognize some of these from the walls of my teenage bedroom."

He brushes his teeth as she begins unpacking, setting out her toiletries and her slip.

When he rejoins her and dumps out the contents of his carry-on, her eyebrow raises as her eye catches on the clipped magazine article peeking out from between a book and his tablet. The article about her and the escort business that had helped him make his decision.

"Unusual to be carrying around actual paper," she tells him.

His face flushes in embarrassment, knowing he's been caught out. "I know someone at the magazine."

She hums. "And it was so easy for them to give up the anonymous subject of this article? Contracts be damned?"

"I don't want to get anyone in trouble," he fumbles. "As I've said, I'm new to this whole…thing. I needed someone who knew what they were doing, who'd be discreet and convincing, and my friend suggested you. I wasn't looking to expose you or—"

"David, stop. I trust you. I just hope your friend doesn't have anyone else they feel compelled to share my story with."

"I'm sorry." David bites his lower lip and looks down with a chuckle. "I can't seem to stop apologizing."

"It's a terrible little tic of yours," she agrees. "Mind if I take a shower?"

"Go right ahead."

He pulls the article out as she carries her items to the bathroom, glancing over it again as if he hadn't already committed the entire thing to memory. He'd read it about a hundred times while he was considering dialing the number on the sticky note his friend had stuck to the top of it.

He's surprised when he hears the shower running and looks up to find that she hasn't bothered to close the bathroom door. Her silhouette is visible through the thin shower curtain and he swallows thickly.

"I forgot my conditioner in my bag, could you bring it in?" she calls out over the running water.

He swallows again, locating the conditioner and scooping up the article as he makes his way to her outstretched hand.

"Thank you."

"So, uhhh.." David trails off, trying to ignore the fact that she's in the shower as he tries to carry on a casual conversation. "Have you been doing this for long?"

"A few years."

"What made you decide to…you know?"

"New York is expensive."

"That's it? Just the money."

"Well, no. There's more to it then that. I saw people struggling to make a connection in such a big city, and this seemed to help with that. It's only a temporary solution, of course, but the dates I have with men seem to help boost their confidence with women. I like to think of it as helping set them on their path to someone significant – a true partner."

"Huh, I never really considered that…" he trailed off in thought, wondering about what her other clients were like. "Do many of them pay you for…more."

"You mean for sex?" she asks bluntly. "David, why are you so concerned about that? You said you don't want intimacy, and that's fine, but you seem awfully fixated on it for someone who claims to have no interest."

"I'm just curious."

She sighs and he hears the water turn off. And then almost swallows his tongue when she opens the shower curtain, not a care in the world. She's right here in front of him, completely nude, dripping wet, and doesn't seem the slightest bit bothered by his presence as she picks up a towel.

After his heart starts to beat again and he's managed to pick his jaw up off the floor, he's quick to turn his head away, trying to give her some kind of privacy – though more for his own prudish needs than anything else.

"I've told you, it's not just about the sex. I'm not a hooker, David, I'm an escort. Men don't pay me for sex, they pay me for my company. And sometimes they need intimacy as well. When they're paying for that, they're paying for more than a quick fuck." She finishes toweling off and puts on underwear before sliding her slip over her head. It's only as she's pulling it down over her thighs that David finds he can look up at her again, and is surprised to find her eyes focused on him. "You don't have to be so afraid, David. I'm not going to jump you. You keep acting like we're doing something wrong, but we're not. I'm not. You hired me to accompany you to a wedding, and that's what I'm doing. Being an escort is my profession. I'm not ashamed of it. Why should you be? Try to just relax."

He feels guilt wash over at him as she brushes her teeth and he goes back to his bag. She had a point, but she'd had more time to adjust to the escort concept than he did. He still did feel a sort of shame at hiring someone to be his date, whether it was because he'd felt embarrassed at not being able to find a date on his own or because he'd gone and made escort and hooker synonymous in his head. Worse, he can tell he's made her feel he doesn't think highly of her, and that's not true. Bollocks, he's terrible with expressing his thoughts. Probably why he hadn't managed to find a date. He can feel her eyes on him as he strips to his boxers and dons a plain white tee.

"I know you're sick of my apologizing," he starts, pulling back the covers. "But I really am sorry. I'm not good at saying the things I'm feeling and I…" he looks up at her, remembers the eye contact she'd given him when talking to him, and he wants to do the same for her. "This is about my insecurity. I haven't been with anyone since MM, and it was hard for me to come back and face everyone. I've gone on a few blind dates and set ups, but nothing ever really clicked. I didn't want to come back feeling like a loser, but I feel like everyone can see through the ruse. Like they know I've paid for a date and wouldn't have been able to find one otherwise. I didn't mean to insult you, I'm just feeling like a fraud."

"Thank you," she says. "But you didn't insult me. And I don't think people know you've paid me. You're not a failure, you had a broken heart. That takes time to mend. And it's not anyone's business but yours. That's why you hired me, not because you're a failure," she assures, settling in next to him, and since when has his bed been so small? They're practically on top of one another. "You needed more time without their prying questions and misguided pity."

She's damn convincing with those deep expressions of hers, like she's looking into his soul and allowing him to see a bit of hers in return. It's calming, and he wonders why he hadn't spent more of today looking into her eyes. "Everyone needs something different, but I think that's what you needed from me."

He smiles and tries to get comfortable without crossing the invisible line he's drawn down the middle of the bed in his head. "You're really good at this." He finally manages something more relaxed with his hand under his pillow on his side as he looks at her. "Thanks for putting up with my family."

"They're not all bad," she tells him, and then rolls over and switches off the light. She settles in facing away from him and he watches her back for a minute, his eyes adjusting to the dark.

"Are you really a photographer?" he asks out of the blue. "I mean…you offered to show Charlotte a few tricks with the camera."

"I am," she says, shifting onto her back to face him again. "A hobby that turned into a second job."

"I've always loved photography, but I never quite got the hang of using anything more than a point and shoot. Could you show me, too? If we get the chance."

Her smile is hard to make out in the dark, but it's genuine, probably the broadest he's seen on her. "Sure."

"Cool."

She turns again. "Goodnight, David."

"Goodnight, Regina."

She's asleep almost immediately, but he's awake for at least another hour, actually looking forward to the next day.