“Smile, Sawyer,” Aunt Olivia instructed me as she rang the doorbell. “You’re such a pretty girl when you smile.”

“She’s right,” a voice said from the bushes. “You are.”

I jumped and turned to see Campbell’s cousin—and Sadie-Grace’s boyfriend—three-quarters covered in shrubbery.

“Boone Mason,” Aunt Olivia exclaimed. “Is that you?”

That was clearly a rhetorical question, but Boone didn’t let that stop him. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What are you doing in the bushes?” Lily asked, putting a finer point on her mama’s question.

“Moral support,” Boone replied solemnly. “No men allowed inside, but the bushes are more of a gray area.”

“Go on with you,” Aunt Olivia told him, but she was smiling.

Before I could tell Boone that nobody considered the landscaping a “gray area,” Sadie-Grace opened the front door. She greeted us, sounding like a mix between a robot and a pageant girl. “Hello! We’re so happy you could make it. Please come in.”

“Don’t mind me,” Boone stage-whispered. “I’ll just be out here, moral-supporting.”

Sadie-Grace’s feet settled themselves into fifth position, and I considered the fact that she might actually need Boone here—bushes and all. “Please,” she repeated, maniacally cheerful. “Come in!”

I’d never been to a baby shower before, but based on what I’d seen in movies, I’d assumed there would be finger foods and an overuse of pastels. What I got was a trained waitstaff serving petits fours and champagne. They offered the latter mixed with “just a smidgen of peach nectar” for those in the mood for a Bellini, or with a “healthy helping of white-peach punch” for those of us too young to drink.

And those of us faking pregnancies.

Greer made a show of taking a teeny, tiny sip from her crystal flute as she mingled. “Olivia, it’s so good to see you. Lily, honey, that dress is just darling.”

I could not help but notice that Sadie-Grace’s stepmother didn’t comment on my dress. Perhaps her ironclad sense of self-preservation was warning her that the only thing keeping me from blowing this whole charade to smithereens was discretion, which she probably suspected—correctly—was not my forte.

“Miss Olivia.” Campbell approached us and greeted my aunt with her sweetest smile. “We’ve been missing y’all up at the lake.”

Campbell and I had talked exactly once in the past two weeks. I’d caught her up on Ana’s relation to Victoria and the fact that Ana had been estranged from their family for years. Based on the texts Cam had sent me since then, I was fairly certain she’d spent most of her free time trying to track Ana Sofía Gutierrez down online.

To no avail.

“Campbell.” Aunt Olivia gave her a side hug. “Is your mama here, sweetie?”