he day of our Debutante ball started with compulsory manicure-pedicures. Not for all of the Debs. For Lily
and for me. By this point, I really should have been used to being polished, buffed, plucked, conditioned, coerced, and—

“Ouch!”

The manicurist who’d just relieved me of part of my cuticle submerged my feet in bubbling water. Hot water.

“Oh, hush,” Lily said. “It feels good. Beauty is pain.”

“Pain,” I gritted out, “is also pain.”

As the manicurist put down one tool of torture and picked up another, the door to the shop opened. I’d been expecting it, but the sight of Walker Ames standing there was still jarring.

There was a bruise around his right eye—most likely delivered by someone else’s right hook. His eyes themselves, however, were clear. Not bloodshot. Not vacant. This wasn’t the Walker who drowned himself in alcohol and flaunted his flaws for the world to see.

This was a person who had recovered some trace of faith that he was—that he could be—a good guy.

Ever the gentleman, he took a seat and waited for Lily’s manicure to be completed. When that proved to be a lengthy process, he allowed one of the manicurists to give his own hands a look.

“Very manly of you,” I commented.

Walker gave me an austere look. “I try.”

“There’s trying,” I said, imitating Aunt Olivia, “and then there’s trying too hard.”

I’d gotten used to giving him crap—and besides, it seemed like the kind of thing a sister would do.

Even if he didn’t know I was his sister yet.

I was going to tell him, but I wanted to wait until this was all behind us. Lily had already rocked his world once when she’d told him what had really happened the night a drunk driver put Colt Ryan in a coma. Campbell had been convinced that as soon as Walker knew the truth, he would confront their father. Based on the bruise around his eye, I had to wonder if she’d been right.

Soon, Lily excused herself to speak with him alone. I lingered in the doorway to the salon to make sure no one else overheard what they were saying. Walker wasn’t here just to keep Lily company. He wasn’t here for the sole purpose of letting her lay a gentle hand on his battered face.

“Let’s keep this PG,” I called out.

This wasn’t a grand, romantic moment. It was a criminal one. Or at least, it was supposed to be. The anticipated criminality, however, was taking its sweet time coming around.

He pressed his lips to hers.

After averting my gaze for a full five seconds, I decided that Walker and Lily had had enough alone time. I was ready to get this party started.

Walker was here to deliver a package from Campbell. The pearls.

As I approached them, Walker pulled back from the kiss and handed Lily a box.

This is it. Except…

“That box is too small,” I said flatly.

As Lily opened the box and found a pair of earrings inside, Walker turned to me. The expression on his face was almost, but not quite apologetic. “My sister said to tell you that the plan has changed.”

In consolation, he handed me a box identical to the one he’d handed Lily. Another pair of earrings.

“She was supposed to send the necklace so that we can plant it in your father’s car,” I said, my voice low.

Walker shrugged. “You try telling Campbell what to do.”