Page 3 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

Maybe she would. Tonight was her farewell kiss to the UK—to mistakes, heartbreaks, and the personality she barely recognized during her blaze-of-glory downfall. Tomorrow, she’d fly to Chicago for a new job at Soiree and start her dream: launching Natalie & Co, an all-female event planning firm, in eighteen months.

She just needed one thing: an investor with a fat wallet.

“You give my hair way too much credit but thank you. Talk to you later.”

She slipped her cell phone into her purse as she swung open the door to the pub, stopping a half step inside when she locked on the crowd. Not a single open table, and the line for pints stretched the entire length of the bar. Even the small darts room stood packed.

A quick drink? Not here. Natalie mulled her options.

Hit the ladies’ room, then head back to the hotel bar. Better yet, skip the drink and get a jump start on packing.

She pushed her way through to the restroom. Inside a stall, Kate’s mention of her dear friend, Cookie, twisted in her mind. The moment that blew up her business replayed itself: the choice she’d made to keep her ex-boyfriend, Roman, happy instead of showing up for the gala Cookie had secured for her tiny event planning company, Blaze.

She’d ducked out to Italy that weekend, dazzled by Roman’s racing debut with Team Scorpius. Champagne, sex, and schmoozing with Grand Prix royalty. It felt like a dream, right up until her London gala crashed and burned without her there, just as Roman had in the third lap of his race. Prophecy? Perhaps.

Her London soiree went south when two unvetted servers were arrested mid-event by a ninja-like tactical team, weapons drawn and vicious canines in tow. Clients fled the venue, their faces painted in terror and disbelief. Viral videos popped up all over social media in the hours that followed. By the next morning, Blaze Events UK, the company she and two college friends poured their lives and bank accounts into—gone. A total dragging on the internet for the ensuing chaos. Her ex, Roman—also gone—along with her professional reputation.

Natalie washed her hands, meeting her reflection in the mirror. Her russet curls lived up to their reputation. But tonight, her hazel eyes outshone everything—bright with anticipation, confidence, and cautious hope.

Kate was right. This was a phoenix moment. She just needed one believer with deep pockets to rise from the ashes of her long-dead London dreams.

As she dried her hands, an outdated darts competition flyer caught her eye. The event had fallen on her father’s birthday, three months prior.

Her mind raced and a plan sparked.

She called Kate back. “I know how to find an investor.”

“I’m listening.”

“Pop’s 70th birthday. I know it’s still months away, but what if we throw him a massive surprise birthday party and it doubles as a showcase for Natalie & Co? This way, I’d be getting my name out in more than just Chicago.”

“You mean like a soft launch?”

“A whisper-soft launch, because I wouldn’t tell anyone at Soiree.”

“Yeah, you definitely don’t want your new boss to know you’re planning to launch a business. Or be accused of poaching clients or anything.”

“Exactly. It’ll take every dime I’ve saved over the last two years, but if I can⁠—”

“No buts. Nat, this is a really good plan. It’s subtle. Strategic. Your best one yet. And what if we got some press to cover it? Like, a dual story of Pop’s success, training horses in Nashville for almost fifty years, and your hopes for the same success with the launch of Natalie & Co.”

A mile-long to-do list unfurled in Natalie’s brain. Call Nashville Now Magazine. Set up Natalie & Co website. Design invitations. Check availability at Terrace Oak.

“Well, there is one but actually …” Kate added.

“What?” Natalie asked.

“Your original launch goal of eighteen months?”

“So, I’ll bump it up a little.”

“A little? This would mean cutting your original timeline in half. Now I’m not saying you can’t do it—and I’ll help anyway I can—but it is something to think about. I mean, you haven’t even stepped foot in Soiree. You don’t know what your workload will be.”

She took in her reflection once more, that confident gleam more pronounced. “I can do it. As soon as I get settled in my new place, I’ll sit down and create a whole plan. Budget. Mission statement. Moodboards. Everything. Give me one week.”

Kate laughed. “Okay, okay, but maybe unpack a box or two first.”

“I’m best when I’m busy, you know that.”