Page 104 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

Archie Sr. let out a long sigh. “After so many years running this place, my son goes and tarnishes our family name. Decades of public service, and now this.” He shook his head. “The only consolation is that you’re the one who uncovered it all. We might not be a blood relation, but I’m happy you’re part of this family, Calvin. Your mother has made me so happy, and she’s given me my only daughter.”

“Yourfavoritedaughter,” Ceecee corrected, hair clinging to the balloon she held to the side of her head.

“My favorite daughter,” Archie confirmed, spreading an arm so Ceecee could give him a hug.

Calvin’s first instinct was to back away and give them their moment. But Archie had just offered him something he’d never had—to be part of the family. To belong here, with these people.

His heart thumped. A bit of the hollowness inside him receded.

Archie smiled at Ceecee, then turned to Calvin. “I can only hope that we can all move on together.”

“Here you go,” Eileen said, presenting him with a crystal tumbler full of sparkling water, with a perfect, juicy slice of lemon perched on the edge. Calvin took it, then watched his mother caress Ceecee’s hair before leaning in to kiss her husband’s cheek. “Let’s put the burgers on,” she said, her hand squeezing Calvin’s arm as she walked by.

She touched him as easily as she did her daughter, and Calvin felt another pulse in his heart. There was lingering awkwardness between them, an uncertainty about the exact bounds of their relationship, but for once, Calvin didn’t focus on it. He let himself enjoy the intimacy of the evening, not realizing that with that soft, almost unconscious decision, he’d begun to forgive his mother.

They ate burgers and talked about sports, the weather, Ceecee’s schooling, and old war stories about Archie Sr.’s time as mayor. By the time his mother brought a cake out, Calvin’s shoulders had fully relaxed, and he was able to smile as he listened to the “Happy Birthday” song for the second time that day. His mother had gone to one of the fancy bakeries in town and gotten a three-tiered beauty of a cake, complete with perfectly piped icing and delicate chocolate decorations. It looked incredible.

“Make a wish!” Ceecee commanded, wiggling with excitement in her seat. Calvin closed his eyes and blew out the candles. As he cut Ceecee a piece, she grinned at him. “What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you, or else it won’t come true.”

Ceecee grinned. “That’s true.” She accepted the piece of cake he handed her across the table and scooped a glob of frosting onto her finger. Then, with the kind of abrupt change of topic that only children are capable of, Ceecee announced, “Daphne was here last night.”

The knife froze, hovering above the cake. “Daphne Davis?”

“Your girlfriend,” Ceecee confirmed.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He turned to his mother. “What was she doing here?”

“Returning the dress after getting it dry-cleaned and fixed.”

“And she gave us new wineglasses. She’s nice,” Ceecee said.

All the lightness that Calvin had felt over the course of the evening collapsed into a leaden ball in his gut. “Yeah,” he said, not meaning it at all. He glanced at his mother and, not sure what, precisely, he was wondering about, he asked, “Did she say anything else?”

“Only that she got a job offer off-island,” Eileen replied, shrugging.

Calvin blinked, attention returning to the knife he still held over the cake. He cut another slice and gave it to his mother. “She’s leaving?”

“I guess so. She said her old boss offered her a job.”

“I see,” he said, and passed a slice to Archie. Serving himself last, he stared at the chocolate cake on his plate and thought he might throw up if he ate it.

Daphne was leaving Fernley. That was a good thing. There was nothing between them. They’d gone their separate ways, just like they’d planned. She was free to go, confident in the knowledge that the gossip about Archie Jr.’s crimes would overshadow any talk about the two of them. Everything—well, almost everything—had gone according to plan.

So why did the thought of never seeing her again make him feel so cold?

Chapter 42

It was late by the time Daphne pulled up outside Calvin’s house. The clock on her car’s dash said a few minutes past nine. Late enough that she hesitated, glancing at the lights shining from behind the living room curtains, wondering if he’d think she was horribly rude for showing up like this.

Ever since she’d left Eileen’s house the night before, Daphne had felt like life was running away from her. She was on a conveyor belt, being carried out to a destination without her conscious input. Another cubicle. Another step in her life plan, her foot positioned exactly where it should be.

But things had changed.

Her internal pendulum had swung too far in the other direction. Her body had been bruised and battered; her heart hadn’t been safe from injury either.

She’d read her old boss’s email about a hundred times, and every time, the feeling of dread got stronger. A life of cubicles and traffic, a series of safe decisions that got her nowhere.

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