Alexa bites her lip.

I’ve spent so much time with her that I’m starting to recognize this is a nervous habit of hers. It’s cute; I have to keep myself from reaching out and sliding my thumb across her chin to get her to let go.

“Well, as you know I lost my job,” she begins, picking at the edge of the label on her bottle. “Typical corporate restructuring BS. My company merged with another one, and half of us got put on the chopping block. I was one of the lucky ones, I guess. And that isn’t sarcasm; I hated computer programming. If I hadn’t gotten laid off, I would’ve done that for the rest of my life, and I would’ve been miserable.”

That surprises me. The way she talked about her job when I first met her, I assumed she loved it. “How did you get into it if you hate it so much?”

“My dad is a lifelong programmer. When I was a kid, I pretended to be interested in it, so we’d have something to bond over. I just kind of…got swept away with it into a career, I guess. He and my mom have really high standards, and if I’d told them I was interested in party planning…” She shakes her head with an exasperated huff, then takes a sip of her beer.

“What do they think about it now?”

There’s a long pause before she answers. “They don’t know. They think I’m still doing programming.” It seems like she’s expecting some judgment, because she quickly adds, “At first I thought I’d find something else really quickly, and I didn’t want to let them know I wasn’t employed and didn’t have a backup. Jamesons are tough stock, Alexa,” she says in a low voice. I’m guessing it’s an imitation of her father. “We do not fail, and we do not take no for an answer. If you get turned down, make them hire you!”

“That’s completely unrealistic.”

Alexa takes a deep breath. “Well, that’s his attitude. Things were a lot different when he started out in the workforce, obviously. Moving up here after I finished college was a big source of tension between my parents and me. They wanted me to move back to Charlotte, and my dad wanted to take me under his wing at his engineering firm. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted a fresh start, wanted to get my foot in the door someplace because I earned it, not because I’m the boss’s daughter.”

That Alexa is willing to take risks, to do what she has to in order to get what she wants? It’s incredibly sexy; it intensifies the undeniable draw I feel toward her already.

“They thought I was being foolish to come here to DC, and I did it without their support,” she continues. “Losing my only sense of stability, well…it wasn’t great. I didn’t want to have to crawl home and ask them for money, especially when I’d done something they didn’t approve of in the first place. I also didn’t want a temporary move home to get back on my feet to become permanent, and it would have.”

“I’m glad you stayed,” I admit. In the past year, I tried to get her out of my mind, but I couldn’t. If I’d seen her at Hayley and Hunter’s wedding, I don’t know that I could’ve stayed away from her. Knowing her like I do now, it seems impossible. “I think it was brave.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t.” She looks down at the table with a small smile. “I stayed mostly because I didn’t want to admit they were right. I can be stubborn like that.”

“I like that about you.” It’s the truth.

She scoffs. “Jesse,” she says, rolling her eyes. “C’mon. Stubbornness isn’t exactly an admirable trait.”

“It sure as hell is,” I reply adamantly. “Especially when it pushes you to start your own business, to take control of your life.”

“I never said that’s why I did it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

That gets another smile out of her. “It’s not like I did any of this on my own. I took my startup money from Marin’s grandmother.”

That she won’t give herself any kind of credit here is really pissing me off. “Why do you keep downplaying this? Everyone needs startup money.”

Alexa blows out a shaky breath. “Know how I mentioned my insecurities earlier?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “This is one of them. My parents don’t know what I’m doing because I’m scared it’ll fail. They’d think a job like this is frivolous and unimportant, and if I fail at it then…well, I’m scared it would mean they were right.”

“It’s a service, Alexa. A service that people in this world obviously need and are willing to pay for. It’s not frivolous to them, and I’m sure they cherish the memories they have after these events. You didn’t start this business on a whim, did you? You didn’t just take Marin’s grandmother’s money without a plan?”

“No, of course not.” Alexa reaches into her bag and pulls out a small, well-used black notebook. The binding looks like it’s about to give way because it’s so packed full of stuff. There are fabric samples and Post-Its hanging out of the sides. She flips to the first couple pages, then slides the book across the table. “I’ve been working on this for years…since I was a sophomore in college.”

I take the notebook and look through what’s obviously the very early stages of the business plan Alexa pitched to Marin’s grandmother. There are a few doodles and a ton of crossed-out ideas, but the bones of her business are right here.

“That was my 10-year plan,” she says. “The start of it, at least. It’s what I jotted down in the library when I should’ve been studying. Marin’s grandmother loved my pitch, and it worked out well. Marin wasn’t happy in her job either, so she hopped on board to help. We needed more forgiving loan terms just in case things didn’t work out, and this was the perfect solution. Having someone so close personally with a financial stake in things gives us even more motivation to get things right.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself,” I tell her. “I think you did what anyone with a dream would do to make it come true.”

“Thank you,” she replies softly. She twists her fingers together, then says, “That book is full of dreams.”

“You carry it with you all the time?”

“Yeah. It’s a good motivator when I start feeling down or uncertain about things. It reminds me of what this business can be, of how much I’ve always wanted it.”

“May I look?” I ask, running my fingers along the cover.

She hesitates for a few seconds, then smiles. “Sure.”

I flip through slowly, taking everything in. Outlines, doodles, pictures she snipped from magazines with decorations she likes. She has lists of goals: some easily attainable, some a reach. All good to have.

“When were you planning on telling your parents?”

She shrugs. “When I feel like this is sustainable. When I’m successful, I guess.”

I hold the book out to her. “Is success accomplishing everything in this book?”

“God, no,” she laughs. “That would take forever.” She flips to the end of the book, where there’s still a handful of blank pages. “This is my first marker of success.”

She’s pointing at a few printed listings for office space available to lease in the area.

“Getting your own office?”

“Being able to afford our own office. Once we can do that, I’ll tell them.”

I take a sip of my beer. “Are you close?”

She huffs out a laugh. “No. But we’re on our way. Bagging Alice Buchanan helps, even though it wasn’t under the best circumstances. And planning Hayley’s wedding will help, since it’ll expand my portfolio. It’s one thing to say I can plan a wedding, another to show people pictures of how beautiful it is. It’s small, but it’s something. I think I’ll get there.”

I think she will, too. “Well then, let’s make this Buchanan thing the best damn sixteenth DC’s ever seen and see if we can’t get you a little closer.”

Her face brightens. She’s so gorgeous, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking turning her down last year.

She picks up her bottle, and I do the same. We clink the necks together.

“Well,” she says with a smile. “I’ll drink to that.”

Alexa and I switch to sodas and talk so long we close down the bar. We’re close enough to my apartment that I can just walk home. It’s late and I’m tired, but I don’t want to leave.

Alexa’s leaning on her car, relaxed, laughing at some stupid-ass joke I’ve just made. I’ve done such a great job confusing her since that day at the Buchanan apartment that I know I can’t just kiss her like I’m dying to right now. Doing that without letting her know that I’ve changed my mind and that I’m serious about this would be a huge mistake.

I don’t want to make any more mistakes with her. Am I also taking it slow so I don’t scare myself? Maybe. But it feels like the right thing to do either way.

We’ve hit a lull in the conversation, and I’m trying desperately to figure out something to say that will keep her here with me a little longer. “So,” I begin. “Hunter and Hayley are getting married next week.”

“They are,” she replies, eyes bright. “And I have a ton of stuff to do. Don’t get me wrong; I love her and I can’t wait for her to finally have a husband and all the happiness in the world, but planning a wedding—even a small one—is a pain in the ass, and I can’t wait for it to be over.”

I laugh. I can’t help but admire her honesty. “Do you need any help setting up or anything like that?”

Her eyes widen in surprise, and she bites her lip. I can tell how badly she wants to take me up on the offer.

“You’re going?”

“You didn’t see my RSVP?”

Alexa shrugs. “Hayley’s been handling the specifics as far as the guests go, she just told me how many people were going to be there and what they want to eat.”

I nod. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Honestly? I’d love some help setting up, but you’re a guest, and you should go and have fun with all the other guests. I did an amazing job planning this party, you should really take full advantage and relax a little.”

With a smile, I reply, “I don’t want to relax, I want to help you. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

“Won’t your plus one mind me hogging your weekend?” She tucks her hair behind her ear. If I hadn’t spent so much time with her lately, I might read this as indifference, but I know better now. She’s nervous.

“I don’t have a plus one. Do you?”

“Wedding planners don’t get to have dates,” she teases.

I’m sure that’s not true. Planner or not, Alexa is Hayley’s best friend, and if she wanted to bring a date, Hayley would enthusiastically agree.

“Do they get to accept help from people perfectly happy to give it?”

She smiles. “They do.”

It hits me all at once that I’d happily give up downtime just to see that smile. “So…”

“Okay,” she agrees. “I can’t pay you for your labor, but I can buy you a drink or 2 to express my thanks.”

I lean closer, grinning. “How about you save me a dance, and we’ll call it even?”

Even in the dark, I know she’s blushing.

She holds out her hand, and I take it. Neither one of us lets go for a long time.

She smiles and says, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”