Page 79 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

"I honestly didn't think you'd make it," she said.

"I'm not too late, am I? I really can't wait to see you."

"No, you're right on time." Her voice dipped into sarcastic southern sweetness. "In fact, the party is just getting started."

She hung up before he could respond. Shaking, nostrils flaring, she stomped into the ladies’ room. Braced against the sink, she took in her reflection. Wild eyes stared back, red-rimmed and sleep-deprived. In truth, she barely hung on.

She blew out a couple of breaths, like a prize fighter prepping to step back into the ring after an initial smackdown.

You can do this!

Stay focused on what’s important.

Pop’s birthday.

Investors.

Forget Dash.

Forget Hart Lockwood.

She’d come this far. And damn if she’d let a man—any man—turn another dream into a dumpster fire.

Natalie shoved the bathroom door. It smacked the wall, but she didn’t stop to check for damage. She strode back to the courtyard, heels clicking aggressively against the tile floor. She snatched an oversized martini off a passing server’s tray. Downed in seconds, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. The Cowboy Treatment for courage … or impending disaster.

Possibly both.

Back outside, the party glowed with soft sounds from the jazz trio and warm chatter from the guests. Dozens drifted toward the buffet. She slipped behind the storied 150-year-old grand oak tree—the showpiece that canopied the outdoor space—and took in every detail. Her perfect artistic vision come to life, exactly as planned.

Then she saw Dash, laughing and talking with her father.

And Kate, her eyes bright with unmistakable happiness.

Her heart filled and drained in the same breath.

As she turned to grab another drink from the bar, someone covered her eyes from behind, pitching her into darkness.

"This is the part where you turn around,” Hart whispered in her ear, “and give me the kind of kiss that lets me know the best is yet to come."

Deep breath, Nat.

You need his gravitas.

Play nice … for now.

Natalie spun around, skirt flaring. Of course, Hart looked incredible. Dressed to the nines with nary a hair out of place, which only stoked the fire of disgust in her gut.

No, this is the part where I show Herculean restraint, lest I kick your married ass in front of all these nice people.

Natalie offered her hand, speaking with a cool, detached tone. “Glad you made it.”

Hart’s head cocked. “So, we’re going professional mode? Fine. I’m ready to work the room. Just follow my lead.”

Follow your lead?

I built this entire event from the ground up, you arrogant asshole.

Natalie pointed. “Let’s meet the man of the hour first. That’s him there, with the gray beard.”