Page 40 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

She crossed her arms. "Sir, do you know what it takes to score Barbra Streisand tickets?”

Dash shrugged. “A phone call? Maybe two? Highest bidder on eBay?”

“More like divine intervention. She’s playing a small venue and it sold out months ago.”

"Maybe I have access to a secret concert-ticket network,” he said, flashing his most lethal smolder.

Kate poked his arm. “Maybe you’re full of shit.”

He laughed. "If I get tickets, will you go?”

"Only if your lover gives her permission," she teased.

“Miranda?” He shook his head. “No, she and her husband Cecil are family. He’s the reason I got in—and out—of the oil business. Cecil’s retired now but works as a consultant. Miranda is the OG hot mess. She’s one heck of a lady.”

“She’s a spitfire. I liked her immediately.”

Dash paused at this comment.

Game recognizes game.

“You should see the two of them together," he said. “He's still the dashing mogul and she's the forever Homecoming Queen. They're worth millions, but you'd never know it."

Kate arched an eyebrow. "Her jewelry says otherwise."

"Tomorrow, she'll be shoveling manure in her garden wearing one of Cecil's old fishing shirts."

"And where is this Cecil character tonight?" she asked.

"At home, watching the pay-per-view fight."

"Too busy to escort his own wife?"

"He's allergic to art galleries. And tuxedos. Also, I lost a bet."

"You're here because of a bet?"

"Yep. Missed an easy four-footer on the last hole. Had I sunk it, Cecil would be hand washing my car every week and I'd be sitting at home watching the fight."

Kate leaned forward and whispered, "Surely tonight hasn't been a total bust."

The look in her eyes matched the tone of her voice, flirty and fully enjoying their exchange.

"I didn’t mean … well …” Dash backpedaled.

"I'm teasing,” she said with a wink.

The banter. Her confidence. Her legs. Yes, again with the legs because they deserved continual recognition. He took a sip of his drink, still locked on her eyes. If the night kept going like this, that old dating app would be deleted before sunrise.

"I'm serious about those Barbra tickets,” he said.

"I'd love to go. Just … don't get your hopes up."

He pressed a hand to his chest. "You doubt my abilities?"

"Of course not. But you should have a Plan B."

"Such as?"