He kissed me sweetly in the back of the limo on the way to the wedding. He held my hand during the ceremony. When the pastor announced you may now kiss the bride, Liam put both of his hands into mine and held them, so surely, as though he was trying to tell me something.

I am getting swept up in him, and I don’t know this man at all.

But I feel like I do.

After the ceremony, Liam brings me across the hall into the room where the cocktail hour is being held. The venue is large, but there is only one wedding happening right now. We make our way over to the bar, where Liam orders us two drinks.

“I love a good signature cocktail,” I say. “Sometimes when I’m at work the brides ask me my opinion on different aspects of the wedding, but I never disagree with anything they ever say. I just have to smile and nod and pretend to like everything.”

“What’s the most outlandish signature cocktail you’ve heard of?” he asks, taking a sip of his pineapple mojito.

“Hm, that’s a good one. Definitely the toasted marshmallow espresso martinis I heard about.”

“Wait, you think that’s outlandish?” he says, putting his drink down, a sexy grin spreading across his face. “That sounds fucking good.”

“I didn’t say it wouldn’t be good,” I say, “but it is a bit outlandish, isn’t it?”

“I don’t care how crazy and over the top that is, it sounds delicious.”

“Outlandish doesn’t mean bad necessarily,” I say, taking a sip of my drink and looking around the venue.

“Listen,” he says, lowering his voice, “my dad’s over there. He’s gonna come over, so just act natural. Act like you actually like me.”

He throws me a cute smile and puts his arm around my shoulder.

Oh, that feels nice.

I train my eyes on the man walking over to us. I recognize him from the photograph in Liam’s apartment.

His father seems nice. He has kind eyes, and a smattering of salt-and-pepper hair, and he looks old, but not frail at all.

“Liam,” he says, putting out his hand when he gets to us, “I’m glad you made it tonight. The vows were lovely, weren’t they?”

“The absolutely were,” he agrees, pulling me in closer. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Anna. She’s my girlfriend. We’ve been together for about three months.”

His words come out somewhat wooden, surprisingly. Gone is his cool-guy edge, his confidence. He’s just a man right now, trying to please his father.

I look up at Liam’s dad, and put my hand out to shake his.

“Very nice to meet you Anna,” he says. “Where has my son been hiding you?”

“Oh, you know how it is with his line of work,” I say, tilting my chin up to Liam and swatting him playfully on the chest. “All those other girls? He has appearances to keep up.”

“I know,” his father says, smiling kindly at me. “I’ve been telling him for years to get off the internet, stop giving all those followers a false impression of him. And to stop showing off for the camera.”

“Dad, I’m a ham, I can’t help it,” Liam says, pushing his hand through his hair. “I like being in the spotlight a bit. Plus, the girls love me.”

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” I say, knocking my hip into him gently. “Mr. Harmon, please tell your son that I’m the only girl he should be sending pictures to.”

“Hey, it’s not all for selfish reasons. Someone has to post all the good guacamole recipes,” Liam says, putting his arm around me tighter.

Mr. Harmon shakes his head, but keeps smiling.

“For a girl like this, I think you’d want to eschew all those other girls,” he says.

“You know what dad, you might just be right. Maybe. A little. But I’m not gonna get off the internet. Doesn’t mean I can’t give my heart to just one girl, though.”

“How did you two meet, anyway?” Mr. Harmon asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I work for a media group myself,” I say, “I’m the...one of the financial analysts for a small startup based out of San Diego. That’s why I haven’t been around very much. But I’ve been begging Liam to let me meet you.”

“Analyst? With a background in business and finance, you could probably work for a bigger company, Anna,” his dad says.

“Oh,” I say, “I know, but I like being more involved from the ground up. I actually was able to work on the valuation of one of the bigger Silicon Valley tech firms. We were able to flip it and we made quite a chunk of money doing it.”

“That’s my girl,” Liam’s dad says, winking at me.

“I should have introduced you two sooner,” Liam says, “I didn’t know you guys would be thick as thieves so fast.”

“You know me,” I say, smiling up at him, my heart feeling full and warm, “I’m good at this.”

My comment is so vague, so non-committal, and I don’t know if he understands what I’m trying to say.

I’m good at playing a part. I’m good at getting along with anyone.

I’m good at being what people want me to be. What people need me to be.

“You keep this one around,” Mr. Harmon says to his son. “I haven’t seen you with a genuine smile on your face in the longest time. Any girl that makes you smile like that...you must have something real here.”

He shakes his son’s hand again and goes off, back into the crowd of wedding guests, and shakes hands with a few older men like himself in impeccable suits and perfectly-shined shoes.

Liam wraps me up in his arms, pulling me close to him.

“Sweetheart, how the hell did you do that? He freaking loved you.”

“I was actually a finance major in college,” I say. A waiter with a tray of mini grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches with the crusts cut off walks past us, and I take a couple of them for Liam and me.

“Why are you working at the dress shop, then?” he asks, taking one of the grilled cheese. “I mean, it’s a cool job, but it’s not exactly what you went to school for.”

“I don’t know,” I sigh, “I actually had an internship at a finance firm downtown when I first graduated. I didn’t like the long hours, though. I didn’t like getting out of work at nine at night and having no energy to do anything but go home and microwave a burrito. Plus, I’m a natural extrovert. I like being around people. I don’t like being glued to a computer screen all day.”

“Well, whatever you do, you’re the best at it, I’ll tell that that much.”

“Like I’m the best fake girlfriend you ever could have asked for?”

“Something like that.”

He takes my drink and puts it down on a nearby table along with his, and taking my face in his hands, he slowly traces his thumb along my jawline, against my ear, and down to my chin.

“Anna,” he growls, “I know I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it until I am blue in the face. You are beautiful. You are incredible. I...I really fucking like you.”

He leans down and takes my lips with his, captures them with his, and pulls me oh-so-close to him, wrapping his arms around me deeply.

I really fucking like him too.

And I’m good at being anything people need me to be.