Despite his stodgy appearance, Dean seems like a fun guy. I’m beginning to think spending a few nights pretending to be his girlfriend won’t be a hardship. “Okay, so the next thing isn’t a condition. It’s just something you need to know about me: I don’t do anything in half measures. I’m either all in or all out. If you want to do this, we’re going to have to put in the work. Real stuff too. Names, poignant memories, idiosyncrasies, the whole nine yards. I’m not showing up on several dates with you and embarrassing myself. I’d never sign up for something like that.”

This bit of news seems to energize him. He rubs his hands together and bounces his shoulders as if he’s dancing in his chair. The image doesn’t compute, so I tilt my head in an attempt to put the world back on its proper axis.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” he says, then reaches behind him, pulling out a folder from his messenger bag. “It means you’ll take this seriously, and that can only be a good thing.” He slides a file across the table.

“What’s this?” I ask as I peek inside and leaf through the contents.

“Think of it as a primer on me. For fun, I’m calling it the Dean Dossier.”

“I already have double D’s. I don’t need yours too.”

A dash of pink stains his cheeks. I should control my urge to throw him off-kilter, but the man just handed me a five-page, single-spaced biography, along with a clear envelope containing a mishmash of photographs from various periods in his life. Can anyone really blame me for not curbing my wiseass tendencies?

“I drafted a form for you too,” he continues. “Which I can send as soon as you give me your email address. Just fill it out and return it to me when you have a moment.”

My eyebrows snap together so quickly I may have given myself a permanent unibrow. As surreptitiously as possible, I trace a finger down my forehead to check. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks, looking genuinely confused. “You said you’d be willing to put in the work.” He points at the folder. “That’s your study guide.”

Wow. Just wow. This guy’s something else. I hold up the Dean Dossier in one hand. “Are you telling me everything I need to know about you can be found in here?”

Dean shakes his head. “Well, not everything, but enough to throw Peter off our scent. He’s going to try to poke holes in our story. That”—he points to the folder—“will make it harder for him to accomplish his goal.”