Page 119 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

"Approve? I created you!" He clapped his hands together. "I don't think you've ever looked more gorgeous, Nat. He's gonna die."

"Who?" she asked, fighting to stay composed at his accidental gaffe.

"Who what?" he asked.

"You said he's gonna die. Who are you talking about?"

“Uh, I mean he as in the proverbial he—like every man who lays eyes on you tonight. Who knows what the night holds?” He pinched one eye closed. “You're missing one thing."

"So help me, if you say a rabbit mask …" Natalie rolled her eyes.

"I was going to say a caution sign around your neck that says ‘Dangerous Curves’."

She locked the door and hooked an arm through Noah’s outstretched elbow. As they walked toward the elevator, her heart bubbled with glee. Her precious assistant and dear friend had no idea what the night held for him.

"Mrs. Everett gave me full artistic freedom. I hope she’ll be happy," Natalie said.

"It's your most beautiful design yet. You have nothing to worry about."

"I couldn't have done it without you. You took my vision and put your special touch on it as only you can. And," she gave him a sly look as they stepped into the elevator, "I have a surprise for you—a little something to show my appreciation."

"A surprise?" Noah placed a hand over his heart; his eyes clouded with emotion. "Pour moi?"

"You'll see when we get there."

Moving Fox into position. Run, Rabbit, run!

Natalie read the text message from her co-conspirator, fighting back a laugh. Noah had pestered her non-stop about his surprise, but she refused to give him any hints. She'd given herself a thirty minute window to double-check every detail before Dash and company were scheduled to arrive. After a brief chat with Anton, they rode the elevator up to his amazing rooftop space.

When the elevator doors opened, Natalie sucked in a breath, greeted by the exact image she'd envisioned. The venue: a perfect blend of modern and vintage. A long wooden table played center stage, surrounded by sleek Lucite dining chairs. A cascade of gardenias in full bloom danced down its center. Strings of Edison bulbs hung overhead, their warm glow bouncing off the glass walls surrounding them. In one corner, the jazz band quietly assembled their equipment (fully insured, by the way).

"I don't remember who said it, but it's the gospel truth. Simple elegance never goes out of style," Noah said with a sigh.

"It was Coco Chanel, and it certainly doesn't," Natalie agreed. Her phone signaled the arrival of another text, and she summoned her most business-like look as she checked the screen.

"Everything okay?" Noah asked.

"Your surprise is here. It's on the way up right now."

"You had it delivered?" he inquired. "I honestly have no idea what it could be."

The words had barely left his mouth when the elevator doors behind them opened. Natalie kept her eyes locked on Noah, dying to see his reaction.

It didn't disappoint. When the surprise stepped out of the elevator, Noah’s jaw hit the polished concrete floor.

Damn! I should have asked Anton to have one of his staff members video this!

"Blaine Sheridan!" Noah shrieked, his eyes wide with shock.

"Noah Barton, it's been a while," the man said, walking toward them with an outstretched hand.

The two shook hands. Natalie quietly inspected every inch of the future senator. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. Chiseled jawline. Immaculate fashion sense.

Wow! The photos did not do him justice. He's even better looking in person.

"B-but what are you doing here?" Noah questioned, his eyes practically popping out of his head, cartoon-like.

"Blaine is part of the surprise," she announced with pride.