Page 72 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

Natalie turned and spotted her sister waving beside their father’s SUV. Kate opened her arms and Natalie practically fell into them. The hug squeezed the breath out of her, along with the tension she’d carried since takeoff.

"God, it's so good to see you," Natalie said, not ready to let go.

"I've missed you too.” Kate stepped back and eyed her baby sister from head to toe. "Rough night?"

Natalie wrestled with herself for the full 90-minute flight. Confess everything about Mr. Crown or spare Kate the full meltdown? She pictured her slipping into Big Sister mode: the judgment, the raised eyebrows, the speech about unnecessary distractions. She’d devised an abbreviated version of the previous night’s events, minus the run-in with her one and only one-night stand. In the end, she played it safe and said nothing.

"I didn't sleep a wink—a problem with a work thing. It's a long story—way too much to go into right now. You, on the other hand …"

The rosy glow that bounced off Kate's skin was more than a few too many hours in the Texas sun. Her eyes sparkled in a way she hadn’t seen since Malcolm died.

"Does he come with a Surgeon General's warning?" Natalie asked.

"Who?"

"Dash Benning, the man who created this glow. You're like a Christmas tree!"

"I-I am not!" Kate sputtered.

"Yes, you are. And you can tell me all about it on the way."

The traffic guard whistled and motioned. They quickly loaded Natalie’s luggage and moved out of the passenger pick-up zone. Two seconds off the curb, the sisters fell into their signature rhythm, talking over each other in bursts.

"I know for a fact that you and Big Tex are spending a lot of time together," Natalie said.

"We've seen each other a few times."

"A few times? The man answers your cell phone. Since when does Kate Fitzpatrick let anyone touch her phone?"

"I told you, he thought you were my neighbor calling about the evacuation."

"He must be really special."

"He's something alright," Kate said with a snicker.

"I can't wait to meet him," Natalie squealed. “I’m dying to see what he looks like since he doesn’t exist on the internet.”

"Yeah, he's pretty camera shy. Believe me, I’ve tried to snap a few pics, but he wants no part of it,” Kate said with a shrug. “I hope you're not upset that he’s coming."

"Upset? The man’s given you back your smile. I plan to greet him with applause. Plus, Cookie says he’s loaded. Maybe he’ll want to invest."

Kate shot her a look. “Please do not ask him that.”

“Relax. I’ll ease into it,” Natalie teased.

The day unfolded with buzzing energy. Natalie kept her phone pressed to her ear, double-checking with the florist, the bakery, the photographer, and the jazz ensemble. Kate made herself at home in the kitchen as she crafted a French meal to rival anything out of the Cordon Bleu.

By eight, the dining room glowed with candlelight. Foster Powell appeared in the doorway in a western-cut suit and custom cowboy boots. Duke, Foster’s beloved dog, stood beside him, tail wagging enthusiastically.

“Look at this table. Isn’t that something?” the old man remarked.

“The best is yet to come, Pop.” Kate pulled out his chair at the head of the table.

“It’s not every day our old man turns seventy,” Natalie added, kissing his cheek.

The threesome sat at the antique table, losing track of time as they made champagne toasts and shared stories of bygone birthdays. An elite storyteller, Foster had both daughters wiping away tears of laughter. Remembering their mother’s final birthday, however, created a sudden somber tone. Kate and Natalie exchanged a knowing glance. Time to liven things back up with gifts.

In the living room, Kate poured Old Fashioneds while Natalie arranged the seventy mini gifts. Foster’s eyebrows arched like horseshoes.