Page 82 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

They made it to work only fifteen minutes late, and Daphne hoped their night together wasn’t stamped on their faces. She scurried to the fluorescent lights of her interview room and buried herself in financial records to clear her mind of more pleasant things.

For the first time since she’d started this job, Daphne struggled to focus. She couldn’t find that state of flow where her mind latched on to numbers, where finding patterns became easy. Her gaze kept drifting to the open doorway to catch glimpses of Calvin. Her ears perked when she heard the rumble of his voice.

She had it bad, and it should have made alarm bells ring in her mind.

Unfortunately, her mind was occupied by dreaming of the moment she’d get to go home with him.

Those daydreams were interrupted by the arrival of Grandma Mabel. Daphne glanced up from her work when she heard her grandmother’s voice, and a moment later, the old woman herself appeared in the doorway. With a crafty grin, Mabel glanced over her shoulder and shuffled inside. She closed the door to Daphne’s office and came around to give Daphne a tight hug. “Look what I got,” she said, and she pulled out her phone and turned it toward Daphne.

A photo from Eileen Yarrow’s kitchen stared back at Daphne. Specifically, it was the blurry photo she’d originally sent of the corner cabinet—except it was now crystal clear. Taking the phone, Daphne zoomed in. “How?”

“The magic of artificial intelligence!”

Daphne blinked and glanced at her grandmother. “Okay. But ... how?”

Mabel’s grin was self-satisfied, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Our tech guy did it. He explained how the computer uses complicatedalgorithms to restore images. He said it might not be entirely accurate, but Daphne! This is it! This is my mother’s pot!”

There were so many things Daphne wanted to clarify in her grandmother’s statement, so she started at the beginning. “Tech guy? What tech guy? You haven’t been poking around the dark web, have you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Grandma Mabel said, then pulled a chair from the corner and plopped herself down on it. “I’m ninety percent sure this is the pot, Daphne. Eighty percent, minimum. The shape, the size, even those little ripples on the lid and the shape of the handle—it’s got to be! And in just a few more days, we’re going to get it back. All thanks to you.”

Daphne huffed a laugh as she pushed the phone away. A needle of discomfort pierced her breastbone at the thought of performing a heist for an old cooking pot after what had happened between Calvin and her. She should tell him about it, shouldn’t she?

But her grandmother was looking at her with bright eyes, and Daphne couldn’t disappoint the older woman. It was so rare that Daphne got this type of attention, that she felt seen in a way that wasn’t related to drudgery or responsibility. She had gotten lots of praise for getting good grades and doing her chores. She’d been patted on the head for being her boring old self her whole life. But she’d never been included. She’d never belonged. Not like this.

She’d gone out on a limb for Calvin, and now she wanted to do the same for her grandmother. It wasn’t good enough to hide all the messy parts of herself away. She wanted to show Grandma Mabel that there was more to her than being good.

Calvin never had to find out ... did he? Or she could find some way to explain about the pot if it came up. Besides, how smart would it be to tell the island sheriff that she was planning to steal something from his very own mother?

Telling him was the right thing to do. But wasn’t she sick of always doing the right thing? Ellie got away with all kinds of mischief justbecause she had the guts to try. Couldn’t Daphne be like her sister this one time? Didn’t Daphne have the right to be the hero for once?

She cared about Calvin—probably more than she should. But at the back of her mind, she knew that this tryst between them had to end. He’d realize that she didn’t always get in the way of cashbox thieves and feral pickup truck aficionados. He’d realize he’d been wrong about her, and he’d walk away. They always did.

But her family loved her. They always had. Getting her grandmother’s heirloom back was a small rebellion that would finally make her feel like she was part of the Davis clan.

“Are you ready, honey?” Grandma Mabel asked, her eyes still shining as she smiled.

Daphne ignored her discomfort and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good. Let’s go over the plan.”

There wasn’t much of a plan, but Daphne sat with her grandmother for a few minutes, talking about escape routes and drop zones for the pot. It was ridiculous. She knew it was ridiculous. The whole thing was absurd. She’d either succeed in getting her grandmother’s cast-iron pot back, or she’d humiliate herself in an ugly dress.

But for the first time in a long time—maybe ever—Daphne felt close to her grandmother. The true closeness of a shared secret. It was almost as addictive as Calvin’s presence, and Daphne had already indulged in her whims once; why not do it again?

Half an hour later, Grandma Mabel winked at Daphne and poked her head out the door as if to check if the coast was clear. Daphne couldn’t help her smile as her grandmother shuffled out, offering cheerful greetings that were meant to distract from their clandestine plans.

“What was that all about?” Calvin asked, his shoulder propped against the doorframe.

Daphne leaned back in her chair and let her gaze trail over his shoulders and chest, ignoring the guilt of her secret. He didn’treallyknow her. Didn’t really care about her. How could he, when he thoughtshe was so much more than she was? It was better for Daphne to do this for her family. “Just Grandma being Grandma,” she said.

He huffed, a soft smile teasing at the corners of his lips. “Got you this,” he said, moving his hand out from where he’d hidden it behind the doorframe. He held out a pint of ice cream, identical to the one that had appeared on her desk two weeks earlier.

Daphne straightened. “It was you! You’re the one who left me ice cream the other day.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Who did you think it was?”

“I thought Rhonda Roberts was apologizing for spreading rumors about us.”

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