Page 89 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

Daphne straightened and focused on the happy couple. She glanced at Calvin, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts as he watched his mother recommit to her husband. In another world, Daphne might ask him what he was thinking. She might coax the truth of his emotions from him and let him know that she was here for him. In another world, that would be her place, her responsibility.

But their agreement was coming to an end. Her job at the department was over. She didn’t have the right to ask about the investigation into the shady BDT, LLC, and she didn’t have a right to ask Calvin to lean on her if he needed to.

It had taken all her courage to close the distance between them and finally spend the night with him. It had felt like a leap into the unknown, as terrifying as it was thrilling. Now Daphne wondered if she’d made a mistake. It would’ve been easy for Calvin to tell her that he didn’t want their arrangement to end, especially after she’d taken thefirst step. But he hadn’t. His promises had ended with ice cream on the couch when his mother’s event was over.

No one had ever looked at Daphne and said,I choose you.Pete had tossed her aside and made her feel boring and worthless. He’d used her for stability, for emotional support, for the mediocre sex they’d shared throughout their relationship. Then he’d decided that he was happy to turn his back on her without a second glance and without a thought to what Daphne had invested in their life together.

She didn’t want Pete back, but she wanted to be someone’s first choice. She wanted to be worth the risk. What had Calvin risked so far? A bit of gossip that would always be more favorable to a man compared to a woman. The inconvenience of hosting her in his guest room. His dignity during a silly dance.

Was that all she was worth to him? How long until he saw her through Pete’s eyes and decided he’d rather have someone better?

After she got her grandmother’s pot back, Daphne would be done with high-stakes heists. She’d avoid getting punched in the face by runaway thieves. She’d focus on getting a steady job and doing what needed to get done.

She wasn’t the woman he thought she was, and she had no right to pretend anymore.

It was better that their agreement was nearly over. She’d gotten too close. She’d slept with him—repeatedly—which had been a critical mistake. But she could finish this right here, tonight, and then crawl back into her shell and return to the life she was meant to lead. One of safety, stability, and responsibility.

Sheknewit was better this way. She knew herself. At the end of the day, Daphne was a coward. She’d fallen for Calvin, but she didn’t have the guts to see if he’d love her back once he remembered who she was when the dust settled. His rejection would hurt far, far more than Pete’s ever did, because Calvin had looked at her like no one ever had. He didn’t see Good Girl Daphne Davis. He saw a figment of his imagination. He saw the woman Daphne wished she was in reality.

Tonight was the end, and that was a good thing.

When applause filled the room, Daphne murmured something about finding a bathroom and ducked away from him. Her eyes stung, and she took deep, shuddering breaths to pull herself together.

Harry waited for her near the hallway that led to the kitchen. Nodding to the older woman, Daphne glanced over her shoulder.

Jenna Deacon had made her way to Calvin’s side. Her hand was stroking his arm, and she batted those beautiful eyes up at him. A dagger twisted in Daphne’s chest; they fit together better than Daphne and Calvin ever had. Two beautiful people who made sense, side by side.

Yes, it was better for this to end. And tonight, it would.

Her clutch buzzed at the same time as Harry’s phone let out a loud ding. They exchanged a weighty glance, then pulled out their phones.

It was time to get Grandma Mabel’s pot back.

Chapter 35

“I can’t tell you how grateful I was to see you pull up to Romano’s that night,” Jenna said, fingernails digging into Calvin’s arm.

He tried to shake her off, but the woman had a grip of steel. He grimaced at her. “Just doin’ my job, Ms. Deacon.”

“Jenna,” she corrected.

Inclining his head, Calvin glanced over the room, looking for—there. Daphne stood next to Harry, the two of them staring at their phones. Daphne’s shoulders were tight. She looked miserable.

Guilt gurgled in Calvin’s stomach. He’d gotten caught up in self-pity as he’d watched the ceremony, thinking of all the commitments his mother had failed to keep with him. But as he’d watched, he’d seen true happiness light his mother’s face. He wanted to be the type of man who could forgive her, who could be happy for her.

Ceecee loved her mother, and from what Calvin had witnessed, Eileen doted on her like any loving mom would. There was none of the neglect or pain that he’d experienced.

She was young when she had him. She’d failed him, yes, but she was human. Just like him. He’d failed plenty of times, and now he was here, trying to be better.

As he’d watched his mother sway in her husband’s arms, Calvin remembered the way his father would sweep her around the kitchen when he got home from work. The memory slammed into him and rocked him onto his heels. His mother would laugh and laugh; thenshe’d turn to Calvin and pick him up. His father would wrap his arms around the two of them, and the house was a place of joy and comfort and family.

He remembered the way she’d held him after the funeral, the way he’d heard her cry through her bedroom door for weeks afterward.

And, as Archie Sr. twirled her in his arms and beamed at his wife, Calvin remembered the way he’d hated her for it. She’d always emerged from her room with dry eyes and a too-bright smile on her face, and Calvin had resented it all—her secret grief and her attempts to pretend it didn’t exist. He’d resented the way she held him, because she wasn’t Dad, and she wasn’t being honest with him. He’d pushed her away. He remembered tense car rides. Slammed doors and shouted words.

Their family had fallen apart, and his mother had sought solace elsewhere. She’d flitted from man to man, married and divorced, and Calvin’s bitterness had crowded out every other emotion. But when she’d stopped trying to reach him entirely, he’d hated that most of all.

Maybe her many olive branches were just that. Offers of peace. A fresh start.

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