Get Bunny Love (15 page)

“Fine,” he grumbled. He yanked the cup from her grip, draining the contents in several large gulps. He handed the cup back to Bunny and rubbed his stomach. “I feel like a changed man. Let’s go. Your tea’s awful, by the way.”

o0o

Nate admired Bunny’s vitality and the grace with which she fielded each of Kitty’s questions. She was a natural—born to make others feel comfortable with what was going on.

He also couldn’t help but appreciate the way her suit hugged her feminine curves. As she moved, the soft fabric moved with her, accentuating her delicate build and offsetting her fair coloring. The green was the perfect complement to the red tones of her hair. His cheeks warmed. He wasn’t a man to notice such things, but he noticed them in Bunny Love.

She’d moved on to an explanation of the slogan and Web site plans for The Worthington Cup. Kitty clapped her hands together and nodded her head vigorously. Excellent. There was nothing better than a happy client—especially one with as many society ties as Kitty. It must have been a lucky stroke of fate that brought Bunny into his office on Monday. Was it really just a few days ago? He felt as though he’d known her far longer.

Nate tugged at the throat of his shirt. Warm. The air was unbearably close in the room. His throat felt as though it had sprouted cactus needles. He coughed, or rather tried to cough.

He glared at Chablis and Chardonnay.
Little menaces
. As if reading his thoughts the smaller of the two approached his leg, snuffling his cuff. With his luck, he had a hairball stuck in his throat. Nate opened his mouth to shoo the dog away, but succeeded only in choking.

“Nathan, darling. Are you quite all right?” Kitty’s voice was tight with concern. “You look rather flushed.”

“Fine,” he bit out. “Just a bit warm.”

o0o

Bunny took one look at Nate and gasped. His face glowed like a ripe tomato.

“Have you consumed anything out of the ordinary this morning?” Kitty asked. “You look as though you’re having a reaction.”

The tea
. Bunny’s heart fell to her toes at the precise moment Nate’s nervous eyes met hers.

“You don’t think?” He winced.

Bunny swallowed and gave a quick shrug of her shoulders. “Do you have allergies?” she asked tentatively.

“Certain flowers.” He shook his head. “Certainly not to tea.”

Dread pooled in Bunny’s stomach. Echinacea came from coneflowers. She stood and stepped closer to Nate. “I think we should get you some water.” She fought the panic that clutched her throat. “Kitty? Water, please.”

The poodles had each seized the opportunity to frantically snarl and tug at the cuffs of poor Nate’s trousers.

Bunny leaned close, staring into his eyes. “How about coneflowers? Allergic to them?”

His brown eyes grew steely. “Why?” he snarled.

“That’s what the tea’s made from,” she muttered. “Think that’s a problem?”

“I can’t swallow.” Annoyance dripped from his words. “Think
that’s
a problem?”

She tugged on his arm. “We should probably go.”

“Where?”

“To the nearest hospital.”

Kitty returned with the water, but stopped dead in the doorway. Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits, apparently mesmerized by the changing state of Nate’s complexion.

Bunny snatched the water from her hand and foisted it on Nate. “Drink this. Now.”

“Can’t swallow,” he croaked. “Burning up.”

Without thinking Bunny tossed the water in Nate’s face. His already glassy eyes popped wide then squinted in disbelief.

“Sorry,” Bunny stammered. “Nerves.”

Water dripped from his nose and chin, saturating his suit jacket and tie. Bunny winced. Not her best move. Oh well, no use dwelling over spilled water.

She grabbed his arm, spinning him toward Kitty. “Where’s the nearest emergency room?”

“Lankenau.”

Bunny gripped Nate’s elbow, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“The meeting,” he croaked.

“It can wait.” She dragged him out onto the front step. “I’ve poisoned you or something. We need to get to the emergency room.”

His stunned brown eyes were the size of saucers. “Poisoned?” he whispered.

Bunny thrust her open palm in his face. “Keys.”

“Do you drive stick?” He cast a nervous glance toward his BMW.

“I do now.”

o0o

Nate gripped the door handle and braced himself against the dash. Heaven help him, his life was in the hands of the Tasmanian devil. The car screamed in protest as Bunny downshifted into a turn. The fact his vision had blurred into a narrow field of focus was probably for the best.

Over the course of four days, Bunny’s creative life force had spun his orderly existence out of control. She’d reduced him to a mumbling, twitching—and now swollen—shell of the polished executive he’d been just last week. She and her damned turquoise eyes.

“Right here.” He could barely manage the husky rasp. A blue hospital sign flashed past and he uttered a silent prayer of thanks. They were close. If he had any luck left at all, he’d survive the herbal tea poisoning long enough to recover whatever shred of dignity he had left. If this was what unblocked chakras felt like, he preferred his good and stifled.

The gears shrieked as the car jerked violently to one side. Bunny gripped his knee and squeezed. Her touch was like an electric prod sending a jolt straight to his groin—swollen nerve endings be damned.

“Sorry. I had no idea you’d be allergic.”

Nate stole a glance at her cheek, blanched of all color. He must be in pretty bad shape to elicit such a frightened expression from the normally fearless woman.

As pale as she appeared, and as exciting as he found the feel of her hand on his leg, nothing could contain the frustration and anger rolling in his gut. He had let his guard down for a brief moment in time and where had it gotten him? Poisoned and at the mercy of the queen of chaos.

Wasn’t this exactly what Aunt Martha had worked to pound into his skull for as long as he could remember? Control was safe. Chaos was anything but.

Bunny downshifted, whirling the car around a corner. “Hang on.” She slammed the car to a stop next to the emergency room entrance.

The next few minutes were a blur of activity. Bunny confiscated his wallet and insurance information, while a nurse ushered him into a treatment room. Within moments, he sat on the edge of the examination table, staring down at the tiled floor.

A pair of powder blue clogs entered his line of vision as a male voice clucked his tongue. Nate looked up into the grinning face of the youngest doctor he’d ever seen.

“Well, well. Looks like you went a few rounds—and lost.”

Nate glared at the doctor, but kept his thoughts to himself. It wasn’t fair to direct his anger at this stranger. No. His anger should be directed, quite simply, at Bunny Love.

The source of all his woes.

o0o

Exhaustion seeped through Bunny as she crossed the apartment lobby and stepped into the elevator. The rest of her day had been uneventful back at the office. Once Bert had called to say Nate would recover, she’d headed for home.

Nate hadn’t wanted her at the hospital. Could she blame him? She’d poisoned him. Thankfully, one shot of epinephrine had been all Nate had needed. Cripes. She scrubbed a hand over her weary face as the elevator doors closed.

She couldn’t have just given him the damn coffee. No, she had to pour herbal tea down his throat. Maybe she was no better than her mother, forcing her ways on everyone around her. For some crazy reason, the thought calmed her. Blaming the entire fiasco on her mother held great appeal, actually. Wasn’t that the excuse most serial killers used?

Strains of Nat King Cole wafted down the narrow hall as the elevator doors slid open. Bunny’s breath caught.
Daddy
. She dashed for her apartment, bursting through the front door. She spotted her father in the kitchen and reached for the volume on the stereo. The pantry door stood open wide. The only visible portion of the man who’d raised her was his backside, moving to the rhythm of the music.

“Daddy?”

He stilled, straightening to peer around the door. “Hey, cupcake. Got your message.”

“Weren’t you going to come after her?” Bunny crossed to where he waited, planting a warm kiss on his clean-shaven cheek.

Even though John Love had recently turned fifty-six, he didn’t look a day over forty. His sandy blond hair camouflaged the slight touches of gray flirting at his temples, and his turquoise eyes sparkled with vitality.

“She wanted to find herself.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think she’d try to find herself in your apartment. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Bunny leaned around the pantry door to see what he’d been doing. “I’m glad you’re-”

Holy cow
. Every item in the pantry had been organized by color and size. Either her life was flashing before her eyes, or she was suffering from some serious déjà vu.

“Like it?” He beamed. “You can’t go wrong when you follow the color wheel.”

“Mm.” Bunny nodded, biting back the urge to run screaming.

Her father pointed toward the front door. “You know you really need to get those locks-”

“I know,” Bunny interrupted.

As if on cue, the front door eased open. Alexandra entered, looking bedraggled and upset. Tears glistened in her normally perky eyes. Bunny rushed to take her mother’s bag, lowering it to the floor and wrapping an arm around the crying woman. “What happened?”

Alexandra focused on John. “What’s he doing here? It’s supposed to be just us girls.” She sniffed.

“He missed you. He flew all the way up from Florida to be with you.” Bunny glared at her father, nonverbally coaxing him to jump in anytime.

“House was empty without you,” he offered.

Alexandra sniffed again and Bunny’s heart ached. “What happened?”

“That horrid man was no more a greeting card instructor than you are. He was after a little hanky-panky, nothing more.”

Bunny wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn she heard her father’s blood pressure explode. “He what?”

Alexandra shook her head. “Nothing happened. I’m no floozy.”

“Maybe it’s for the best.” Bunny struggled to find soothing words. “You did rush into the greeting card thing.”

Her father cleared his throat, capturing Alexandra’s attention. “I’ve done some thinking about the idea.”

Alexandra dabbed at her moist eyes, gazing hopefully at her husband.

“You knew about this?” Bunny asked.

He nodded. “Spoke to a former associate of mine. He runs a printing business outside the city.”

Alexandra stepped closer, her excitement palpable. Bunny fervently hoped the next words out of her father’s mouth would be positive, or the woman would probably go into a cleaning frenzy the likes of which Philadelphia had never seen.

“I made an appointment for tomorrow. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Bunny’s heart swelled. The man might be obtuse at times, but with a little prodding, he was a regular Romeo.

“Really?” Her mother now stood just inches from her father. “You like the idea?”

John leaned forward and kissed Alexandra on the nose. “I love the idea,” he said softly. “Sorry I wasn’t more encouraging when you first brought it up.”

Bunny’s vision blurred, relief washing through her. “So you two will be heading back to Naples.”

“Oh, no.” Alexandra shook her head. “We’ve got business plans to develop. Artists to line up.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “Distribution. Sales.”

John nodded. “Help me finish the pantry, sweetheart. A little organization will get the planning juices flowing.”

Alexandra gave her husband a hug, and Bunny pulled open the front door, headed for Tilly’s apartment. Between the latest development in the evolution of her parents’ marriage and Nate’s trip to the ER, she was ready for a batch of Tilly’s Celestial Margaritas. And how.

o0o

An hour later, Bunny snuggled deeper into Tilly’s battered sofa, trying not to imagine the havoc her parents were wreaking on her apartment. She hugged a pillow to her chest, eyeing her friend through tear-filled eyes.

“I blew it,” she sniffed. “I’ll get fired and lose my apartment.”

“He won’t fire you.” Tilly scowled. “What grounds does he have?”

Bunny rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Hello. I tried to de-stress him and sent him to the ER instead. My positive chi’s morphed into bumbling failure since I met him.”

Tilly winked. “You two were destined for each other.”

Bunny lowered her face to the pillow. “Yeah, like the Titanic. Only I’m the iceberg.”

“It’s not that bad,” Tilly urged. “At least you didn’t kill him.”

Bunny blinked. A lone tear slid down her cheek. “Whoever heard of someone being allergic to Echinacea tea?”

A knock sounded at the door. Bunny shot Tilly a confused look. “Expecting someone?”

“Bert.”

“My Bert?”

“No.” Tilly grinned. “
My
Bert.”

Tilly pulled the door open. Bert planted a kiss on Tilly’s cheek, then glanced at Bunny, a devilish glint twinkling in his pale blue eyes. “Miss Love.”

He stepped to where she sat and patted her shoulder. “At least we can’t say things at McNulty Events have been boring since you arrived on the scene.”

“How is he?” Bunny asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Glowing, but no worse for the wear.”

“Am I fired?”

“Just in the doghouse.” He winked. “Pun intended.”

“Bert and I have a plan,” Tilly said.

Bunny lowered the pillow. Bert and Tilly’s faces wore equally bright, mischievous expressions. Her stomach rolled.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

Tilly clapped her hands then dropped to her knees in front of Bunny. She planted her palms on either side of Bunny’s face, her eyes growing wide. “We’re going to do a creative energy intervention.”

“A creative energy what?”

“Intervention,” Bert answered. “And I can’t think of anyone more deserving than Nate McNulty.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nate sat in the Warwick hotel ballroom watching Philadelphia’s finest gather for the Autumn Dinner Dance. Aunt Martha busied herself doing the same. An awkward silence had fallen across the table, and Nate sipped his scotch as Melanie vapidly drank her wine.