“Don’t get too cocky, okay?” she says. “We don’t want to end this evening with a trip to the emergency room.”

“Not going to happen.” I make a big show of twisting my upper body and stretching out my arms. “I’m ready.”

She flicks her gaze upward, then grabs my wrists, holding me still. “Repeat after me: I am not Paul Bunyan.”

Humoring her, I take a step forward and repeat the phrase: “I am not Paul Bunyan.”

“Excellent,” she says, peeking around my body so she can scan the space. “And since we’re still alone I wanted to mention something.”

“What’s up?”

“Well, this is an informal setting,” she says, the pitch of her voice rising. “Which means we’re going to be standing around, and I think it would be natural for us to be slightly more affectionate with each other.” Seemingly unable to meet my gaze, she continues to scan the crowd. “I’m not talking full-on kissing, of course. Just . . . a shoulder bump here and a squeeze of a hand there would be appropriate. I don’t want to give Peter any reason to start causing trouble again.”

I’m plainly in the Upside Down. Solange is advocating more touching, not less, and I’m supposed to do what? Remain unaffected by it? This is going to be torture. “Yeah, of course,” I say quickly, looking down at my wrists, which she’s still holding. “That makes all kinds of sense.”

She drops her hands and lets out a shaky laugh. “Okay, good. We’ve got maybe one more outing, I think. So we’re almost at the finish line. It’s time for you to close the deal.”

My brain short-circuits for a moment.

“You went there, didn’t you?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.

“I did.”

She shoves me away. “I think I hate you right now.”

“No, you don’t,” I say, pulling her close. “I think you like me.”

“It’s all an act,” she says, twisting out of my embrace, her mouth curved into a lopsided grin. “So don’t forget why we’re here.”

Ah yes, the deal. Recruiting Kimberly Bailey to the firm. Closing “the deal” has always been the goal. But for a moment I actually needed the reminder. I’d rather not examine why that is.

*  *  *

The gathering is in full swing now that everyone’s here. With any luck, I won’t sever an appendage or otherwise humiliate myself.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Kimberly asks Molly, her smile welcoming and wide.

Molly sets her drink on the cocktail table behind the axe-throwing lanes and shakes her head. “I have two left hands, so it’s probably best if I stay right here. Go have fun.”

The rest of the group turns to our instructor, Guillermo, for a few last-minute pointers.