Page 40 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

Calvin pulled in to the side of the road and turned to his sister. “Well, that’s up to you,” he said. “Today’s our hangout day, so you get to decide. We can still make the movie, then have dinner and ice cream like we planned. Or we can drive around and try to find them.”

“Drive around and try to find them!”

He bit back a smile. “Okay, but Ceecee, you have to do as I say. If you’re riding along with me, it means you listen when I tell you to do something.”

“I will. I promise.” She gave him a huge smile. Her two front teeth had a gap between them, and her cheeks were full and rosy. She was a cute kid, and she lit up when he made time for her.

This was why he was on Fernley Island. That smile. That little girl, who deserved so much better than what he’d had.

Calvin’s heart gave a thud. When he’d rung the doorbell at his mother’s house, he’d shifted his weight from foot to foot and tried to ignore his discomfort. His mother had answered the door, and her face lit up with hope that she’d quickly tried to hide. She’d led him to Ceecee’s room, which was clean and full of toys. Nothing like his room had been at nine years old.

Ceecee had run over to give him a hug, then wrapped her arms around her mother’s middle while Eileen bent down to press a kiss to Ceecee’s head. They’d seemed like a perfect mother-daughter pair. Calvin’s heart gave a lurch, and a strange mix of longing and jealousy had moved through him.

But what if it was a lie? An act? What if, under the surface, Ceecee was going through what Calvin had endured?

If so, Calvin knew that even though she lived in a bigger house, with nicer clothes and new shoes anytime she needed them, his little sister would be alone. She’d be learning that the adults in her life didn’t care enough to get to know her. Didn’t care enough to listen to her, to spend time with her. Soon she’d be a teenager, and the hurt growing under the surface would turn to anger. Anger would turn to self-destruction.

He knew, because he’d been through it.

He couldn’t let that happen.

If he’d had one person—justoneperson—show him the kind of attention he’d needed, Calvin wondered if he would’ve struggled the way he had. He had his first drop of alcohol at fourteen years old. By eighteen, he was a drunk. It took three more years to clean himself up, and those were the hardest three years of his life. He had to feel all the pain he’d numbed for his entire existence. Had to take stock and decide to be better.

Ceecee wouldn’t go through what he’d gone through. He couldn’t let it happen.

So, as he met his little sister’s glittering gaze, he knew that he’d give her anything she wanted as long as it put a smile on her face and saved her from the kind of pain he’d experienced. Even going after a bunch of old women and Daphne to question them about their loitering outside his mother’s house.

“Pinkie swear,” he said, sticking out his finger. Ceecee grinned at him and hooked her pinkie around his. They shook, and Calvin repeated: “You do what I say. No complaining.”

“No complaining,” she vowed, and Calvin’s eyes narrowed when she didn’t repeat the first part of the promise.

“If I tell you to stay in the car, you stay in the car.”

“I promise.”

They kept their pinkies hooked around each other, and Calvin met her eyes. “Let’s go find them.”

Ceecee let out a squeal and clapped her hands, then slapped them against her mouth, then let out another squeak. He laughed, easing back out onto the road as he made his way to Daphne’s street.

If it had been anyone but Daphne and her insane grandmother’s group of friends, he would’ve called it in and gotten someone on duty to check it out. But after what had happened the night before at Mickey’s, Calvin wasn’t going to let anyone else question the woman he had in his sights.

Daphne was his, whether she knew it or not.

As he parked outside Daphne’s apartment, he glanced up at the building. He wasn’t sure which window belonged to her, so he got out, gave Ceecee a stern look, and told her to stay in the car, and then went to ring Daphne’s buzzer.

No one answered the intercom, but he did hear the whir of a car window going down. Turning, he watched Ceecee’s face take on angelic innocence through the opening as she said, “I’m still in the car.”

He gave her a flat look and turned around before his smile gave him away. Little rascal. After buzzing again, he waited, then pulled his phone out and called her. He wandered over to the passenger side of his truck and tweaked Ceecee’s nose as the phone rang. His sister squeaked and jerked back, then let out a laugh.

Then Daphne answered. “Hello?”

Calvin straightened. “You home?” He turned to study the building again.

“I—what?”

“Are you at home?”

“No. Why?”

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