Page 92 of Unmasking Mr. Crown

Hold ‘em … or fold ‘em?

As smart as Kate is, it's just a matter of time before she puts two and two together.

And then what?

Better come up with a plan … and quick.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

NATALIE

Well, so much for that plan.

Hoping for a bit of joy in surprising Foster with her unexpected return, her eyes widened when she caught sight of him sitting on the front porch, smoking a cigar.

Foster Powell stood up, his face painted with confusion. He quickly pressed the tip of his cigar into one of the potted plants and walked out to meet her.

“But I thought …" he began the moment she stepped out of the car.

“Hi, Pop." Natalie completed her rideshare transaction on her phone, thanked the driver, then followed Foster into the house, the tiny wheels of her suitcases bouncing off the stone pavers of the walkway.

“You missed your flight? I'm so sorry. You kept telling me you needed to go and I kept holding you up." He brushed her cheek with a kiss.

"No, it's not you. The flight was canceled and rescheduled for tomorrow morning. Don't worry; I've already arranged for a ride, so you don't have to get up early. I'll sneak out and be on my way."

"I haven't slept past four-thirty in years, you know that. I'm more than happy to take you. Or you might ride in with Kate and Dash. Not sure what time they’re planning to leave but⁠—"

"Wait, Dash is here?" Natalie interrupted, her insides now in flames, burning with anxiety. "I thought Kate said he was flying back to Houston tonight?"

"Well, we started talking about horses after you left. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we were back here at the barn. They're still down there. Pretty sure Mr. Benning will be leaving with a bill of sale for not one, but two horses. Hard to say no to my two beautiful mares.

Yes, he seems to have that problem.

"So, he's definitely staying the night then?" Natalie asked, her heartbeat galloping at warp speed.

"His suitcase is upstairs in the guestroom, so I assume so," Foster said. “Whaddya say we whip up a pitcher of margaritas and set up the old Scrabble board? Decompress a bit.”

Decompress? A laughable thought. Zero chance of that happening in the presence of Dash. Heck, Natalie doubted she could carry on a normal conversation without looking like some skittish cat.

You’re an event designer, not an actress. Fake an illness. Say you're not feeling well and turn in early. You're not emotionally ready to deal with a night full of eye sex between Kate and Dash.

“I know today was tough on you, but you handled it like a champ. I’m so proud of you, honey. And now, you’ve given me the best gift of all: another night with you and Kate.”

Foster smiled at her in the sweetest way, his eyes moist with tears. How on earth could she tell this wonderful man no?

“That sounds great, Pop.”

Together, they carried her bags upstairs to her childhood bedroom, still bedecked with outdated furniture and Beanie Babies in every corner. Above her bed, the framed crown jewel: a poster from the famed Spiceworld tour, signed by all the Spice Girls, following their Nashville concert. Natalie’s first concert, in fact. Somewhere in the house lurked a photo of her and Kate from that night. Kate dressed as Scary Spice and Natalie as Baby Spice. A thought flashed across her mind …

I wonder what I could get for it on eBay?

Probably not enough to make a dent in what I’m gonna have to pay to the musicians, but every dollar counts.

“I’ll change and be down in a minute,” she said.

Foster nodded and left her alone. Natalie hoisted her suitcase up on her bed and examined her clothing options, the most ironic being Dash’s UT sweatshirt. She’d tossed it in at the last minute, a way to feel close to him after he’d slipped through her fingers at the gala. It had been stashed in a drawer since her return to Chicago, never once worn. She ran her hand across the screen-printed logo, recalling the moment Dash drew it up around her shoulders … and the tinge of sadness in his gorgeous baby blues.

Do I dare?