I furrow my brow and scratch my temple. This attempt at feigning confusion may be over the top, but I’m having fun with it, so Dean will just have to bear with me. “Wait. That can’t be. He went to Penn for undergrad and law school. Graduated with honors too. Are you sure you know him as well as you think you do?”

I smile into my hand, the heady scent of victory and Peter’s shriveling balls wafting in the air. Kimberly and Nia share an amused glance; they seem to be enjoying the verbal volleying just as much as I am. Can’t say that’s the case with Dean, though. He’s dropped out of the conversation altogether, and when I meet his gaze, a muscle in his jaw twitches.

I lean into him and whisper my next words: “Relax your sphincter. We’ve got this.”

Dean drops his head, but I can see that his shoulders are shaking. That’s better.

We continue to chat through the rest of the meal—mostly about the highs and lows of our respective careers. Unfortunately, whenever Dean has Kimberly and Nia’s attention, Peter tries to usurp it.

“Would you say camaraderie is one of Olney & Henderson’s strengths?” Kimberly asks, her tone playful and plainly meant to allude to Peter’s ridiculous behavior.

“Generally, yes,” Dean says, looking exasperated. “But we can’t always pick our colleagues.”

Nia snorts. “That’s certainly obvious.”

Peter, just as clueless as Dean said he would be, chooses that moment to tempt our guests with the prospect of another torturous outing in his company. “Kimberly and Nia, there’s so much to explore here, and you should consider us your tour operators. What would you like us to arrange? A baseball game at Nationals Park? A visit to the White House? A show at the Kennedy Center?”

“I’m not sure that’ll be necessary. I think we’ve gotten a good sense of Olney & Henderson’s people tonight.”

God, I hope not. If so, she’s definitely not accepting a position with the firm.

Dean leans over and whispers in my ear. “Peter’s being weird. We’re losing them.”

Again with the breath against my neck. It’s so damn distracting. But also: I’d rather eat Miracle Whip in place of mayo for the rest of my life than let Peter sabotage Dean’s aspirations. And that’s saying a whole hell of a lot.

Before I can think it through, I exclaim: “I have an even better idea! Ever been axe throwing?”

Dean drops his head. But this time, his shoulders aren’t shaking.

Chapter Ten

Dean

“Axe throwing? That’s what popped into your brain?”

For the sake of authenticity, Solange and I hopped into the same Lyft. She’s heading to Sip City to hang with Brandon, and I’m heading home to get ready for an early day at work tomorrow.