I chuckle and massage the back of my head. Shit, my ears are burning. Don’t pass out, Dean. Don’t you fucking dare pass out. “It’s definitely an unconventional turn of events, I get it, but the short story is that the woman who stopped my wedding is a longtime friend. And, well, I’ll just say that once the dust settled after the ceremony, we realized we’d been suppressing some pretty big feelings. She’s known me longer than I’ve worked here, and we’ve shared a condo for years, so she really is qualified to speak to what she’s observed about my lifestyle as an associate firsthand, and what’s even better is that she knows DC inside out. Anyway, I think she’d be more than happy to join us.”

“What’s her name?” Peter asks.

He’s trying to box me into a corner. Well played, Peter.

“Her name’s Solange Pereira.”

Peter narrows his gaze on me but says nothing.

Henderson knows I’m more charming than the sack of potatoes to my right. I mean, Peter unironically brags that he “bagged” his wife as soon as he told her he’d graduated from Harvard—a moment he describes as the dating equivalent of a mic drop. Skin-crawling stuff, really. Once Henderson considers Peter’s insufferably douchey upturned collar, his choice will be clear.

But then Peter adds, “You mentioned Bailey’s partner is looking at artist-in-residence programs, right? Well, Molly’s dad is an art professor at NYU. It’s a superbly teed up icebreaker.”

I clench my jaw so hard I’m probably at risk of rupturing a blood vessel somewhere.

Henderson snaps his fingers. “You both should do it. The more, the merrier. I think you two would strike a good balance. Keep the other one on his toes. It’ll feel festive. Engaging. Besides, I need you to be candid, but not too candid. What better way to ensure a light muzzle on your honesty than to have you keep tabs on each other?”

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. It’s bad enough that I just forced myself to fake a relationship, but now Peter’s going to be watching my every move? This is bad. Really fucking bad. But I’m pinned against the ropes, and there’s no way out that won’t damage my already tenuous standing with Henderson.

It’s okay, Dean. You’re a fighter. And you know how to execute a plan. Think of this as the biggest assignment of your career, and you’ll excel in it like you always do.

Still, that little voice in my head is begging me to heed the warning signs. Given the stakes, I choose to ignore it.

Somehow, I need to convince Solange to go along with my scheme.

Somehow, we’ll need to convince Peter that we’ve known each other a long time and that we live together now.