Page 21 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

“Don’t you? We were all in senior year together. She was in half our classes.”

Calvin frowned. Most of what he remembered about his senior year was his annoyance at having to repeat it, drinking himself into a stupor at every opportunity, and perfect little Daphne Davis. “Was she?”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me she just came down here and gave us all that little show, having never dated you at all?”

“A little show you seemed to be enjoying, by the way.”

Her smile was sharp, and it sliced right across Calvin’s chest. “It was awful. I loved it.”

Scrubbing his palms over his face, Calvin let out a sharp breath. “My mom’s trying to set me up with her. She might have suggested that I take Jenna as my date to her vow renewal next month.”

“I see.”

Calvin dropped his hands and curled them around the edge of Daphne’s desk. Meeting her gaze, he shook his head. “I’m not going to take her.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not in the habit of letting my mother set me up on dates.”

“Jenna seemed more than willing.”

“She’s not my type. I told my mom I already had someone lined up.”

Daphne nodded. “Right. So who’s the lucky lady?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want to give her a heads-up that she might have to fight Jenna Deacon for you.” Her blue eyes were piercing as she held his gaze, mirth buried somewhere deep. “Give her the chance to think about whether dating you is worth the hassle.”

“I thought maybe you wanted to get in line behind the other two.”

“In your dreams, Flint.”

“I’ll put you down as a maybe,” he told her, if only to hear the outraged squeak that came out of her mouth. Calvin headed for the door. When he was back in his office, he finally let his lips curl into the smile he’d been biting back.

He might have been in his thirties, but apparently, Calvin still enjoyed poking at Daphne until she snapped.

Chapter 8

The small windowless interview room was a time warp. It took a while to shake off Flint’s visit, but once Daphne started losing herself in numbers again, the hours passed without her noticing. By the time she came up for air that evening, there’d been a shift change and the sky was dark outside. Considering it got dark around four thirty in the afternoon, that in itself didn’t mean as much as the new faces milling around the building. With her jacket unzipped and her purse slung over her shoulder, she shuffled to the front doors on stiff legs.

Lights were on in the sheriff’s office. Through the open door, Daphne could see him at his desk. Flint frowned at his computer screen, pecking at the keyboard with his index fingers like he’d never used a keyboard in his life. He looked up when she poked her head in.

“I hadn’t realized you were still here,” he said.

“I was just about to say the same thing.”

“Paperwork from this morning,” he grumbled, shoving the keyboard away. “You make any discoveries this afternoon?”

“Well, actually ...” Daphne hesitated. She hadn’t made a discovery, exactly, but some of the invoices from the renovation were weird.

He arched his brows. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s just strange, is all. Some of the invoices for the work on the extension out back were fully paid in advance. I walked through the area, and it still looks like a building site. I don’t understand why the contractor would have been paid when the work was never completed.It’s possible the funds were recovered later, but I haven’t been able to find any evidence of it if so.”

“Hmm.” Flint frowned and rubbed his jaw. “I haven’t heard of any lawsuits or attempts to recover any money. Shirley just said the whole thing fell apart because of personal disputes between the contractor and the former sheriff, and it was never finished. Itisweird that they would’ve been paid in full.”

“Right?”

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