Page 85 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

“Excuse us,” Grandma Mabel called out while her fingers wrapped around Daphne’s forearm. She towed Daphne down the porch steps and across the front lawn, where Greta’s beige clunker of a car idled by the curb.

“Grandma, is this really necessary—”

“Hush, honey,” her grandmother replied. “We’re all here. We just want to go over a few details.”

Daphne frowned as she bent over to peer into the car windows. Greta waved cheerily from behind the wheel, her thighs twitching as if with anticipation for the pedal-to-the-metal getaway she probably hoped to make later. The passenger seat was free, with Grandma Mabel’s purse in the footwell.

And in the back seat, Ellie beamed at Daphne as she lowered her window. Beside her, another person was hunched over a laptop.

Daphne squinted at her sister, then at the laptop user. She started. “Ryan?”

Pushing his hoodie back from his face, Ryan Lane glanced over to lift his chin in greeting. His laptop screen illuminated his face in an eerie white glow. His bruised temple had healed from the beating that Daphne had delivered with her purse. “Sup,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

“He’s our tech guy,” Ellie announced.

“On that note, what areyoudoing here?” Daphne demanded. “You’re supposed to be cured of your deviant ways. You’re getting married and everything.”

Ellie’s smile was unrepentant. “One last job,” she explained. “I couldn’t let Grandma handle this one on her own. I’m here as an extra set of eyes in case something goes wrong.”

Daphne shot a furtive glance over her shoulder. Calvin sat on the small bench by the front door, tying his shoes as he watched them. She forced a smile before turning back to her sister. “The probability of things going wrong just skyrocketed with you being here.” She glared at her grandmother. “You all should go home.”

“No can do. We’ve paid Ryan for his time, and we intend to get value for our money,” Mabel explained.

“Paid him for what?”

“I have access to the Yarrows’ security system,” Ryan said absentmindedly, fingers flying over his keyboard.

“Youwhat?”

“He’s very good,” Mabel said.

“He’s our eyes and ears,” Greta explained. “We’ll be able to see everything that happens inside and guide you.”

“Here,” Ellie said, shoving something at Daphne. “Wear this.”

Daphne took the bundle Ellie had dropped in her hands and recoiled. “I’m not wearing an earpiece. No way. What do you think this is? We’re not executing a bank heist.”

Ryan’s fingers stilled. He squinted at the earpiece, then shrugged at Ellie. “We’ll go with plan B.”

Daphne planted her hands on her hips. “What’s plan B?”

“Group text,” Ryan said. “The five of us plus Harry. I’ll text her at the optimal time for her to cause a distraction, and that’ll be your cue to head to the kitchen to make the grab.”

“This is a disaster,” Daphne mumbled.

“Not yet,” Ellie replied brightly. “Right now it’s only apotentialdisaster. Nice dress, by the way.”

Daphne glared at her little sister.

“Right,” Grandma Mabel said, “Ellie and I will wait for Ryan’s signal, and then we’ll meet you by the eastern side of the backyard fence. There’s a gate, so you should be able to either open it or drop the pot over the fence. We’ll grab it and go.”

“I’ll keep the car running,” Greta supplied. “I’ve got my route planned out.”

“We did a dry run this morning,” Grandma Mabel explained.

“You did a dry—” Daphne bit off the end of her sentence as a headache bloomed behind her temples. Why had she agreed to this? How could she ever have thought this was a good idea?

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