Page 101 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

“Can’t worry about wreckage of the future. You can only take care of the here and now.”

Dash stood and walked back to the pool table. He took hold of the eight ball and rolled it back and forth, thinking.

"It doesn't matter. None of this matters. Natalie doesn't want me. She's seeing someone else—this author who happens to be married. The guy’s a first-class tool, too. No idea what she sees in him.”

“Did you get this information straight from her mouth?”

Dash shook his head. “No. Kate told me. All Natalie said to me was that she’s moved on.”

“And you believe her?”

“Well, that’s what she said.”

Miranda sighed. "I'm sure Natalie is a lovely woman, but methinks Natalie lies. I mean, it’s right there in her name, honey—the last three letters."

“Why would she lie?”

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s protecting Kate. Sisters before Misters, as it were—with Margot and I being the exception to that rule.”

Dash mulled this over, the billiard ball still rolling between his hands.

Miranda finished off her drink and joined him at the pool table. With a hand on his shoulder, she spoke to him in the most supportive, motherly tone possible. “I know you’ll make the right choice, Dash. I have complete faith in you.”

Just then, Dash’s phone buzzed with a text. He fished it out of his pocket, his bottom lip jutting out as he read her message.

“That’s quite the face. What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s Kate. Her plane just landed and she wants to stop by and see me on her way home. She must have taken an earlier flight because she wasn’t scheduled to land until midnight.”

“It’s a sign. You need to come clean with Kate, hon, and you need to do it as soon as possible.”

She’s right. A storm’s a-brewing. And it’s best to get ahead of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

NATALIE

The weather app had given her an hour before afternoon storms moved in, but the cloud formations building overhead said otherwise. Other than a short stint in Cross Country during junior high, Natalie had never been a runner. But all the forces of nature were suddenly at play in her life, drawing her to the park track. She tried to find a rhythm, one that matched the beat thumping in her earbuds, but a pronounced stitch in her right side downgraded her jog to a walk after less than a mile. Her hope that some time outdoors could be a salve, a way to soothe all mental ailments and help her get out of her head, just wasn’t working.

She’d landed at O’Hare at eight-thirty, giving her plenty of time to put in at least a good half-day’s worth of work at Soiree, but her mind had become the equivalent of tangled Christmas lights. Broken ones at that. She needed a full down day to reset before returning to the office, or to life in general. She hadn’t talked to Kate, other than a generic text in their family group thread confirming her safe return. Same with Noah and Otto’s assistant, except now she claimed the sudden onset of a virus—true, if you considered Dash Benning a virus, with the number one symptom being regret.

About two miles into her walk, she formed a plan.

You’ve worked your ass off for months. You need a real break.

Spend the week in pajamas, DoorDash every meal, and disappear into every season of The Traitors.

Do whatever it takes to banish Kate and Dash from your thoughts.

Easier said than done. Kate and Dash had front row seats in her mind. She’d even dreamed about them in the few hours she’d managed to sleep before slipping out of the house under the cover of darkness. The two of them, wrapped up in whispers, lingering kisses, and late-night promises.

I can't do this.

At that exact moment, the sky opened. Rain fell hard and fast, like the memories of her London tryst. Dash's mouth exploring her own. Her hands guiding his hips. The warmth in those quiet after-moments on his sofa. Side stitch be damned. She found her footing, determined to run the raw ache out of her body. But the pounding in her heart overtook her and she couldn't make it another step. She stopped in the middle of the path, soaked to the bone. Bent over with her hands on her knees for support, she gave up and a storm of tears poured from her eyes. Two different women stopped to offer assistance, but Natalie waved them off, claiming to be fine.

But she wasn’t fine.

And it wasn’t just Dash.