Marin sits cross-legged on my couch, sorting through the pictures that I took of the wedding. She takes a sip from an overfull glass of merlot, and my heart skips a beat as I have a flash of blood-red wine dripping onto my cream-colored velvet couch.

“I won’t spill,” she says like she can read my mind. She isn’t even looking at me, and she knows I’m having a moment. “Out of the two of us, I’m the one with a better track record when it comes to not wearing my beverages.”

She has a point, and it makes me want to smack her upside the head with a giant pillow. Only my love for the cream-colored velvet couch stops me.

“You did amazing work,” she says. “The design and the pictures, I mean…I knew it’d be great when you showed me the sketches, but I didn’t know it’d be this great. I almost have too many pics to choose from if that’s possible.”

The compliment not only makes me feel good as a designer and planner, but also as Hayley’s best friend. I thought I’d done great work for her, but having someone else confirm it is nice.

“Jesse was a godsend this weekend,” I admit. Apart from all the orgasms, I couldn’t have gotten the wedding set up without his help. “I spent too much time arranging flowers, and he got the lights hung up in no time. He moved the tables a million times without complaining.”

Marin’s giving me this smug look like she knows too much. I haven’t mentioned anything about what happened between him and me at the wedding, mainly because I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I want to keep Marin off the scent because I’m sure I’m smiling like a lovesick idiot, so I try some old-fashioned deflection.

“I’m so glad he finally got his head out of his ass and started being…well, not an asshole.”

Old-fashioned deflection does not work because Marin’s still giving me that maddening look.

“I bet you are,” she says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. Defensiveness finds its way through the haze of contentment I’ve been living in since I kissed Jesse goodbye at my front door this morning. He’s spent the last few nights at my apartment, and every morning I wake up wrapped in his arms, happier than I ever thought I could be.

It’s terrifying.

“It means that you’ve got this serene, lovesick look going on, and you haven’t stopped smiling while you’re texting since you got back from the wedding. You haven’t been freaking out about the Buchanan party this weekend like you normally would be, and…there’s this.”

Marin turns her laptop in my direction, giving me a good look at her screen. On it is a photo of Jesse and me dancing at the wedding. To anyone who didn’t know any better, we look like we’re in love. Jesse’s gaze is so tender, it makes my heart skip a beat.

I get up and take the laptop from her so I can get a better look. “Where did you get this?” I know the photographer I hired for the event pretty well, and I seriously doubt she took a whole lot of time to focus on party guests like this.

“Hayley,” she says. “She saw you two dancing and wanted to document the moment Jesse got his head out of his ass - and that’s a direct quote.”

I smile at the picture, I can’t help it.

“How he managed to stay away from you for a whole year when he looks at you like that? With actual heart eyes? I’ll never know. He must have amazing self-control.”

He does, I know from firsthand experience. He’s always putting off his pleasure so that I can have mine. I reaped the rewards of that self-control last weekend, and at least twice every day since.

“Have you guys made things official? Am I gonna start seeing him around here?”

Marin’s question cuts right through all the pic bliss I’m feeling, and jolts me back into reality. “I don’t know,” I say quickly, handing the laptop back to her. “Do you want to start getting ready for the Michaelson pitch soon?”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Marin replies, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes at my attempt to change the subject. “What’s the matter now?”

I didn’t really want to get into this, but I guess there’s no escaping it. I sigh, then plop myself down on the couch. “I’m happy and things are amazing, don’t get me wrong. It’s new, and I’m not looking super far into the future or anything, but…you see the way he looks at me in that picture,” I say, gesturing vaguely in Marin’s direction. “How did he stay away from me for so long? There’s a part of me that’s still waiting for him to change his mind, to run away again.”

I’m expecting a rebuttal, but it doesn’t come. Marin just looks at me with patience and a smile. “I get it. No rush, I’ll stop teasing. It is a great pic though.”

“Yeah.”

“Want me to send it to you?”

I nod. I wouldn’t mind having it around to look at when the doubt creeps in. “Thank you.”

A few seconds later, my phone pings with a new email alert.

“I have some good news,” Marin says, looking pleased.

“Hit me.”

“We don’t just have the Michaelson pitch coming up. I set up two preliminary meetings for other projects.”

“You did?” I ask excitedly.

“Yeah. Apparently Alice Buchanan is pleased with what you’ve done so far on such short notice, and she gave our name to two of her friends.”

“Still the party planner of choice for disgraced DC socialites,” I tease, but there isn’t any bite in it. Disgraced socialite money spends just as well as anyone else’s, and we can’t afford to be picky. “Hopefully everything goes off without a hitch this weekend.”

Having Jesse on my side now makes the nerves dissipate just as soon as they creep up on me. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without his help at the venue.

Marin puts her hand on my shoulder and gives me a comforting squeeze. “It’s gonna be fine, you’ll see.”

I hope she’s right.