Page 63 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

"A masquerade ball? Are you kidding me? Nope, no way. I'm not going, Noah. Otto can fire me for all I care."

Noah’s mouth fell open. "Wow. Dramatic much?"

Natalie stood and shoved her chair under her desk with a force that rattled her pencil cup. “Hell yes, I'm dramatic. I don't have a mask, Noah. Or a dress. Or time to go shopping either. I have to pack and finish the last of my wrapping. I need to focus. This event is going to either make or break everything we’ve been working for.”

“Oh, please. Packing will take you fifteen minutes. And I can wrap the last few gifts."

"I. Don't. Have. Anything. To. Wear." Natalie clapped with every word for emphasis.

“Wear the dress you got for the showcase. Spritz the pits with a little vodka and stick it in the freezer; it’ll be fine.”

“It’s too casual for a gala. And what about a mask? I can’t just conjure one up from thin air.”

"A little faith, please? Remember Mr. Peacoat? He works in theatre. One call and you’ll have the most exquisite mask at the gala. And there’s a thrift shop near my place that specializes in formal clothing."

Natalie rubbed her temples.

You better be right, Noah.

I don’t have a spare minute in my schedule.

Or a dime’s worth of wiggle room in my budget.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

NATALIE

Two Days Before the Showcase

"Time check?" Natalie asked, pulling the pale-pink taffeta coat over her shoulders.

"You're right on schedule." Noah tapped his phone like a NASA engineer. "Based on traffic and the fact that half a dozen other events are happening in a two-block radius, you should arrive at the peak of cocktail hour. Fashionably late, but prime time to see and be seen."

"How do I look? Presentable?" She tucked a loose strand back into her sleek chignon and twirled around, feeling more super model than event planner. The beaded white dress she’d scored in a thrift shop highlighted all her best assets. She and Noah had argued about the neckline. She hadn’t wanted to show too much skin, but Noah had insisted. In the end, they compromised. Sort of. She had to admit, the forties-inspired, off-the-shoulder gown made her feel spectacular.

"All you need is the cherry on top." Noah peeled back layers of tissue paper, revealing an elaborate mask.

Natalie huffed. "Do I really have to wear that? It's huge. With my hair up like this, it’ll make me look bald."

"I sold my gay soul for that mask. You're going to wear it. And you're going to love it.”

"Not in the cab though," she muttered, running her fingers over the intricately beaded ears, smirking at the stylized tip of one ear, playfully bent forward.

"You absolutely have to wear it in the cab. Think of the buzz when you step out in front of one of the most famous hotels in Chi-Town. You, in that show-stopper dress, the mysterious white rabbit? You’re a modern-day Candice Bergen. You'll put the magnificent in the Magnificent Mile." He framed her with his hands, as if lining up for a shot.

“Candice who?” Natalie asked.

Noah pressed his fingers to his temples. “You’re not serious. Candice Bergen? Model. Actress. Daughter of the Edgar Bergen. She wore a rabbit mask to Capote’s famous Black and White ball in the sixties. FX literally made a series about it.”

“Well, pardon me for having a life beyond cable.” She secured the mask and checked her reflection in the small powder room mirror off her office. “This damn thing covers my entire face. I can barely breathe."

"There are times when sacrifices must be made. Now get out there, flash that flirty grin, and channel your inner Carrie. Maybe there will be a little Sex in the City tonight."

"It's a fundraiser, Noah, not a meat market.”

“It's the wealthy and the powerful mixing with the bold and the beautiful. Sex is definitely on the menu, right after the double-chocolate mocha trifle."

"Not for me," she spoke adamantly, giving her perfectly toned midsection a pat. "On either account."