30. Dash/Natalie
CHAPTER THIRTY
DASH/NATALIE
Chicago
One Week Later
Dash checked his reflection and adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time. He'd put every ounce of faith in Miranda. He trusted no person more. But now, knowing he’d be locking eyes with Natalie soon, seeds of doubt began to take root in his brain.
You've done some wild shit in your life, but this is as wild as it gets. Don't think that because her family will be there that tonight will be a slam dunk. This could go south real fast.
Cecil snorted. "You know Miranda’s not gonna let you wear that tie. Hell, I wouldn't even wear that tie. It’s uglier than Aunt Bessie’s knickers."
"The tie is one hundred percent non-negotiable. Your wife's gonna have to trust me on it." Dash smoothed his hand over its gaudy, shiny surface.
"Sweetheart, will you zip me up?" Miranda asked, halting their exchange.
She entered the suite's living room and Cecil snapped to attention. He complied with her request, zipping her into a gorgeous new dress.
"Mrs. Everett, you are a vision. Ain't my bride a vision, Dash?" he asked, giving her a pinch on the backside.
"She's something alright," Dash agreed.
Miranda gave Dash the once over. "Christ almighty, what on earth is hanging around your neck?"
"My power tie. And don't say it's awful. It's supposed to be, so go with it."
"Darlin', I say we skip tonight's hoopla and hop on the next flight to Paris. That dress is too grand for a simple Chicago debut." Cecil twirled his wife around, the cut lace skirt of her dress fanning out in soft, flowing waves.
"And miss out on a front row seat to our own personalized version of The Bachelor? No way in hell."
"You're not actually thinking of proposing to this woman tonight, are you?" Cecil asked.
"Cecil Everett, I may be wild and reckless at times, but I am not stupid." Dash tucked a small pair of gold scissors into the inner pocket of his jacket.
The threesome took the elevator down to the hotel lobby. Colt, Kate, and Foster stood waiting near the main doors, all dressed in various shades of black and gray.
Is this a party or a funeral? Might be a little of both.
He took inventory of the five faces around him, their hopeful expressions locked on him, anticipating a pregame speech. He hadn’t prepared anything, so he kept it short and sweet.
"I want to thank all of you for coming along. I've done some crazy things in my life, but this is a new level of crazy, even for me," Dash said with a smile.
"Well, the night is still young." Cecil clapped him on the back. “Let’s see where it takes us.”
Chicago traffic followed its usual stop and start pattern but the conversation inside their limo flowed with ease.
Cecil and Foster led the way, laughing and joking like old friends.
The real story in the limo, however, involved Colt and Kate.
Dash couldn’t take his eyes off them, sitting so close, you couldn’t slip a postcard between their bodies.
Of course they made sense. Both incredibly smart.
Both snarky and adventurous. Both losing their significant others in tragic ways.
They’d been out every night since they’d met.
Dash had yet to get all the details, but Colt’s permanently-in-place smile told most of the story.
“They’re pretty cozy, aren’t they?” Miranda whispered.
“Yep.” Dash nodded in agreement. “They look good together.”
“Not any better than you and Natalie are going to look. You’ve got the envelope, right?” she asked.
Dash patted his jacket pocket. “It’s safe and sound, right here. I still think you should be the one to present it.”
“Nope, I think it’s better if you give it to her later, when it’s just the two of you. I’d start crying and making a big scene and no one wants to see that.”
“I just hope I get the chance to be alone with her later. This might not go the way we think it will.”
“Are you kidding? Tonight is gonna be everything you’ve dreamed of and more.”
"Well, no matter what happens, know that I love you and I appreciate everything you've done for me and for Natalie." He pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"Stop that. I spent three hundred dollars on lash extensions, and the best mascara money can buy." She dabbed away tears at the corners of her eyes.
"We've logged a lot of miles together recently. I'm gonna miss taking you out and showing you off. Promise that tonight you’ll save at least one dance for me."
"Like hell you are. And as far as saving a dance goes …” She took his hand and gave it a loving squeeze. “Only if you let me lead.”
Natalie examined herself in the full-length mirror for the millionth time, falling more in love with each look.
She'd hit the jackpot at a resale shop. Another white dress, perfect for the role of future bride.
The first and only dress she'd tried on—long sleeved with a low-cut back and hundreds of sparkling diamond-like jewels embellishing the cuffs.
The best part? It only set her back forty bucks.
She dumped the contents of her large purse onto her bed and selected a handful of things.
Keys. Breath mints. Fifty dollars emergency cash.
A safety pin, in case of a wardrobe malfunction.
Her gaze fell on Dash’s monogrammed handkerchief, still stained with red wine and smears of lipstick.
She picked it up, tracing his initials yet again.
DSB. Every time she looked at it, she couldn’t help but hear Journey’s famous chorus, “Don’t Stop Believin’”.
His middle name remained a mystery. Samuel? Stephen? Seth?
"The mystery ends tonight, Mr. Crown." She slipped the handkerchief inside her sequined bag.
Her phone pinged with a text. She laughed when a picture popped up on her screen: a selfie of Noah standing outside her door, wearing a sinister grin with the caption, “Here's Johnny!”.
She tucked her phone into the small bag and slipped her feet into a pair of strappy heels. With every step she took toward the door, her smile widened. Her chance at true happiness, now moments away–if her plan fell into place as designed.
"I'm coming!" she hollered.
When she opened the door, the look on Noah’s face said it all. He took two steps back, motioning for her to turn around. "Let me look at you," he commanded.
Natalie gave a twirl. "Do you approve?" she asked, striking a pose against the doorframe.
"Approve? I created you!" He clapped his hands together. "I don't think you've ever looked more gorgeous, Nat. He's gonna die."
"Who?" she asked, fighting to stay composed at his accidental gaffe.
"Who what?" he asked.
"You said he's gonna die. Who are you talking about?"
“Uh, I mean he as in the proverbial he—like every man who lays eyes on you tonight. Who knows what the night holds?” He pinched one eye closed. “You're missing one thing."
"So help me, if you say a rabbit mask …" Natalie rolled her eyes.
"I was going to say a caution sign around your neck that says ‘Dangerous Curves’."
She locked the door and hooked an arm through Noah’s outstretched elbow. As they walked toward the elevator, her heart bubbled with glee. Her precious assistant and dear friend had no idea what the night held for him.
"Mrs. Everett gave me full artistic freedom. I hope she’ll be happy," Natalie said.
"It's your most beautiful design yet. You have nothing to worry about."
"I couldn't have done it without you. You took my vision and put your special touch on it as only you can. And," she gave him a sly look as they stepped into the elevator, "I have a surprise for you—a little something to show my appreciation."
"A surprise?" Noah placed a hand over his heart; his eyes clouded with emotion. "Pour moi?"
"You'll see when we get there."
Moving Fox into position. Run, Rabbit, run!
Natalie read the text message from her co-conspirator, fighting back a laugh.
Noah had pestered her non-stop about his surprise, but she refused to give him any hints.
She'd given herself a thirty minute window to double-check every detail before Dash and company were scheduled to arrive.
After a brief chat with Anton, they rode the elevator up to his amazing rooftop space.
When the elevator doors opened, Natalie sucked in a breath, greeted by the exact image she'd envisioned.
The venue: a perfect blend of modern and vintage.
A long wooden table played center stage, surrounded by sleek Lucite dining chairs.
A cascade of gardenias in full bloom danced down its center.
Strings of Edison bulbs hung overhead, their warm glow bouncing off the glass walls surrounding them.
In one corner, the jazz band quietly assembled their equipment (fully insured, by the way).
"I don't remember who said it, but it's the gospel truth. Simple elegance never goes out of style," Noah said with a sigh.
"It was Coco Chanel, and it certainly doesn't," Natalie agreed. Her phone signaled the arrival of another text, and she summoned her most business-like look as she checked the screen.
"Everything okay?" Noah asked.
"Your surprise is here. It's on the way up right now."
"You had it delivered?" he inquired. "I honestly have no idea what it could be."
The words had barely left his mouth when the elevator doors behind them opened. Natalie kept her eyes locked on Noah, dying to see his reaction.
It didn't disappoint. When the surprise stepped out of the elevator, Noah’s jaw hit the polished concrete floor.
Damn! I should have asked Anton to have one of his staff members video this!
"Blaine Sheridan!" Noah shrieked, his eyes wide with shock.
"Noah Barton, it's been a while," the man said, walking toward them with an outstretched hand.
The two shook hands. Natalie quietly inspected every inch of the future senator. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. Chiseled jawline. Immaculate fashion sense.
Wow! The photos did not do him justice. He's even better looking in person.
"B-but what are you doing here?" Noah questioned, his eyes practically popping out of his head, cartoon-like.
"Blaine is part of the surprise," she announced with pride.
"I finally convinced Natalie to let me make it up to her for missing our date. You went to so much trouble to set us up. You look gorgeous, by the way. Absolutely gorgeous,” Blaine said, his arm snaking around Natalie’s waist.
He deposited a kiss on her cheek, then whispered something in her ear. Natalie threw her head back, releasing the flirtiest laugh she could muster.
Noah's jaw dropped even more, which Natalie hadn’t thought possible.
"You two have been … talking? You never said a word, you tight-lipped little brat." Noah gave her shoulder what should have been a playful punch, but it landed with much greater force.
Oh, he is freaking out! God, I love this!
"I wanted to keep it a secret because, well, you've been the secret to my success from the minute I walked into Soiree. It's time you started making a real name for yourself in this town."
"What do you mean?” he asked.
"You're taking the lead on the Everett party tonight. From humble assistant to full-fledged designer."
"I'm sorry, what?" Head cocked to one side, Noah blinked a couple of times, looking exactly like one of her favorite memes.
"Surprise! And congratulations! You've earned every bit of this opportunity, and I am so proud of you."
She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. His body went completely stiff, and it felt a little like hugging a dead tree. It took every ounce of willpower she had to not break character or go off script.
"Congratulations, Noah. Natalie's told me repeatedly she'd be lost without you," Blaine added, patting his shoulder with friendly affection.
"Yes, well, Mrs. Everett is going to be lost without her. She's counting on you being here and I believe you made her a promise," Noah said firmly.
"She’ll be fine. Trust me, she only has eyes for you, the man with the wicked sense of humor and the smile that won't quit."
The elevator doors opened again, and several staff members entered with carts of various items. Tableware.
Candles. Champagne buckets. More flowers.
The whole space buzzed with activity. The musicians began their sound check with the bassists playing a few chords.
The time had come. Natalie gave Blaine a discreet but knowing look.
Blaine placed his hand on the small of Natalie’s back. "Listen, I hate to rush but we need to be going. We're attending a small dinner party."
"Blaine! Don't be so modest." Natalie swatted his arm, then turned back to Noah. "We’re attending a private formal dinner with a lot of top political brass, including our very own mayor."
"I think it will be an evening to remember.” Blaine’s gaze locked on Natalie, his eyes shining with attraction.
"Nat, could I, uh, could I talk to you privately for one quick sec?" Noah asked, his jaw tight and rigid.
"I'm sorry, Noah, but we must go. Check your email. I’ve already sent you my notes for tonight. If you need anything else, talk to Anton. The man can run these events in his sleep, there isn’t a terror ring member in sight, and I know there's nothing about tonight you can't handle," Natalie said, taking hold of Blaine’s muscular arm.
Back in the elevator, she turned around for one last look.
Her plan, now off to a flawless start—better than she imagined.
As the doors closed, Natalie bit down on her tongue and watched as the shock and frustration on Noah's face turned to panic.
His slumped shoulders played beautifully off the crookedness of his bowtie.
And that, my dear Noah, would be checkmate!