Nia nudges Solange with her shoulder. “They’ve been talking so much about his work. What about yours?”

Solange gives them a crash course in her workforce development curriculum, eventually mentioning that she’s hosting a Career Day event next week.

“Sounds interesting. What do you have planned?” Nia asks.

“It’s totally informal. Just a day for the students to learn about various careers. I’ve invited people from different professions to visit the classroom and share their wisdom or whatever else they want to talk about.”

Kimberly turns to me. “Let me guess. She roped you into talking about being a lawyer.”

I blank for a minute but recover quickly. Figuring it would be weird if Solange didn’t ask her boyfriend to speak to her class, I nod as if the invitation were a foregone conclusion. “You know it. There was no way she’d let me dodge that assignment.”

Nia’s eyes light up. “Oooh, Solange, I’d be happy to speak to your students if you’d like. I can share my own path, which was nontraditional too, so maybe it’ll resonate with them?”

“Oh my God, I’d love that,” Solange says, beaming. “Thank you, thank you. But it’s only a few days away. Next Wednesday at five. Would that work for you?”

“We’ll still be around,” Kimberly says. “I have another round of interviews later in the week. But how about we make an evening of it? Maybe go to dinner afterward?”

“Sounds great,” I say. “I’ll fill Peter in on our plans later.” He’s currently pacing the width of his lane and muttering to himself while Molly tries to calm him down.

I’m all smiles about getting another opportunity to hang out with Kimberly and Nia—I thought tomorrow’s party would be our grand finale—but then I realize my big, lying mouth has roped me into speaking at Solange’s Career Day event. Judging by the way Solange is sheepishly baring her teeth at me, that fact just dawned on her too.

She sidles up to me as Nia and Kimberly chat on their own. She leans in so close, her shoulder brushes against my chest, then she rises on her toes and whispers in my ear. “Told you not to get too cocky, didn’t I?”

Damn. Solange is just standing next to me, but I’m wrapped up in her. The warmth of her breath skates over my skin. The coconut scent in her hair drifts around us. And her face is inches from mine, hijacking my view. It takes a herculean effort not to pull her closer, but I manage to resist the urge and instead bend to her ear. “You only told me not to get too cocky about axe throwing.”

“It goes without saying: You shouldn’t get too cocky about anything.”