Get Bunny Love (8 page)

Bert grinned devilishly. “She’s packed with energy, isn’t she?” He nodded toward Nate. “You seem especially receptive to her charge.”

Nate straightened the notepad on his blotter. “I’m practically engaged.”

“I never said you weren’t. But there’s nothing wrong with noticing a vibrant female.” He laughed. “Did you notice the way her buttons-”

“Yes,” Nate hissed. “But I have better things to worry about.”

“Pity.” Bert shook his head. “Hate to see a man who can’t appreciate a good set of buttons.”

Annoyance rolled in Nate’s gut. “I’m going to lose this firm if we don’t nail this event.”

Bert stood, features pinched.

“Now what?” Nate asked.

“You forget how long I’ve known you. I can see the attraction in your face whenever she’s around you.”

Nate tamped down his quickening pulse. Was he that transparent? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bert waved his hands in defeat then crossed the room. He stopped, his features serious and a bit sad. “If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’re more dead inside than I thought.”

His nerves raw from his exposure to Bunny, Nate focused his frustration on Bert. “I’ve had enough lectures for one day.”

“Really?” Bert’s pale gaze narrowed. “I could say the same thing.”

“Bert.” Nate took a step toward his vice president. “You and I may be friends, but within these walls, you are my employee. I’ll expect you to remember that.”

Bert’s features fell slack. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Nate sat quietly after the door clicked shut. He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. Bert was right, as usual. The atmosphere sizzled whenever Bunny was near, but McNultys had willpower. And Nate McNulty was no different.

He had a job to do, a business to run, and a socialite to marry. He wasn’t about to let a self-proclaimed positive chi expert turn his world upside down.

Even if she did have the most electric blue eyes he’d ever seen.

o0o

Bunny shifted in her chair, staring at her blank notebook pad. Creativity had never been a problem for her before. She glanced about the small, gray space. Of course, she’d never been in such a stifling environment.

The day had been a whirlwind of meetings, and she hadn’t had a chance to settle in. Not that she’d get a chance to if she continued to annoy Nathan McNulty. She tapped the toe of her pump against the box of personal items beneath the desk. Pity. She’d feel much more at home if only she could decorate her cubicle. Make that
office
.

She tried to wiggle her toes, but succeeded only in reminding herself how much her feet ached from too many hours in the confining shoes. She lowered her face to her palms, sighing deeply. What she wouldn’t give for her bunny slippers and a cup of hot chamomile tea.

“His bark is worse than his bite.” Bert’s voice rang out close and soft.

She spun to face him, shaking her head. “I blew it today.”

He pursed his lips. “You’re good for this firm. We could use some shaking up.”

She frowned disbelievingly.

“About your box of tricks.” Bert winked. “They’re fine under your desk. They’ve proven quite useful thus far.” He pulled the basketball hoop from behind his back. “We left this in the conference room. Wouldn’t want it to disappear.”

She took the plastic rim from his hands and tucked it into the box. When she turned back to face him, she rolled her eyes. “This day has been a disaster.”

“Not at all.” He glanced at his watch. “You’d better hurry up before you’re late to your meeting. And, Bunny?”

“Yes.”

A genuine smile warmed his face. “Welcome to McNulty Events. I’m glad you’re here.”

CHAPTER SIX

Bunny fought the urge to squirm. She sat alone, separate from the other residents who’d gathered in the Wellington Arms’s lounge for the Condo Board meeting. The room felt stuffier than usual, and she couldn’t help but think what a simple rearrangement of the furniture could accomplish.

The six members of the Condo Board panel sat at the front of the room with Thurston Monroe leading the charge. Not one strand of the man’s slick, silver hair fell out of place. His tweed jacket, paisley ascot and gavel completed his perfect, upper-class ensemble.

While Bunny waited for Monroe to call her name, she eyed the bright, red object clinging to the side of her pump. A crushed candy-coated chocolate. Another subtle reminder of Alexandra’s surprise invasion. Honestly, if not for sugar and caffeine, the woman would shrivel up and die.

Greeting cards
. Bunny winced, trying to flick off the sticky candy by batting one shoe against the other. Her mother had come back to Philadelphia to write greeting card verses. This from a woman who had devoted her life to maintaining the perfect home for the perfect husband in the perfect lifestyle.

Why couldn’t she have gone to California to take out her midlife crisis on Vicki? She and her boring family probably would have welcomed the excitement.
Yawn
. The only creative energy Bunny’s sister had ever experienced had been the birth of her son. Now that kid showed much chaotic promise.

“Miss Love.”

Bunny snapped to attention. Monroe’s tone sounded even crankier than usual.

“Were you planning on joining us anytime soon?” he continued. “Or were you going to bang your feet together all night?”

Heat flushed Bunny’s cheeks and she quickly straightened, doing her best to appear polished and responsible.

A few minutes later, she felt as though the interrogation had been going on for hours.

“What about your income level for financing?” Thurston asked. “I don’t see how a freelance...whatever it is you are...can gain approval.”

“Actually, I’m employed full time now.” Bunny held her chin high and straightened her spine. “I’m proud to say I’m the newest event coordinator at McNulty Events.”

Thurston’s gray brows met in a peak. “Martha’s firm?”

Bunny did a mental eye roll. What did these wealthy people have? A private club?

“Yes.” She offered her best I-will-be-the-best-condo-owner-you’ve-ever-seen smile.

“Impressive.” Thurston nodded while making a notation on a lined pad of paper. “The firm is quite selective.”

Yes
, Bunny cheered silently. Willie Simpson winked quickly. This was good. Very good.

“Of course there was that unfortunate incident with the lobby furniture.” Thurston’s voice dropped to a low grumble.

Bunny winced.
So close
. She’d been seconds away from an approval. She just knew it.

 “Well,” Bunny paused for a moment, concentrating on controlling the defensive tone of her voice. Sheesh. How long was Monroe going to hold this grudge? “Other than the accident involving your wrist, for which I am so, so sorry, I felt the residents were receptive to the improved flow of the space.”

Bunny smiled at Willie Simpson who bobbed her snow-white head in agreement. Thurston shot the woman a glare. She froze, offering a nervous smile to Thurston and a shrug to Bunny.

“Be that as it may,” Thurston continued, “I’m not sure it’s in the best interest of the Wellington Arms for you to take up permanent residence.”

An audible gasp rose from those gathered.

Bunny’s heart tattooed against her rib cage. “But Mr. Monroe, I never meant any harm. I’ve never tried to do anything but be helpful to the residents here.” She blinked back tears. She was
not
going to appear weak. Not now. “I love the Wellington Arms. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“Did you know, Ms. Love, that I am incapable of a one-handed backhand?” He leaned forward. “I was the league champ.
Champ
. Do you realize what your little stunt put me through? Six weeks in a cast and months of painful physical therapy.”

“Should have been looking where he was going,” Tilly’s voice muttered from the small group behind Bunny.

“What was that, Ms. Stringer?” Fury boiled in Thurston’s steel gray gaze.

“She didn’t say a thing, sir,” Bunny interjected. “I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you. But, please, I’m asking you—the panel—to approve my application.”

“Is your financing ready?” Thurston’s silver brows met in a bushy peak. Bunny cringed.

“I should have final approval within days.”

“What’s holding it up?”

“Nothing, really,” she stammered. “I was only able to apply this week, once I started my employment.” She nodded her head, hoping she appeared financially solvent. “It’s a standard waiting period. There won’t be a problem.”

Thurston sneered and rapped his fingers on the tabletop. “I should hope not.” He turned to the other members of the Condo Board. “Any other questions for Ms. Love?”

“Yes.” Margaret Jamison held up a frail hand, pointing toward Bunny’s suit. “Isn’t that the suit that disappeared from the Wellington Theater wardrobe closet?”

A choked snort came from the crowd. Bunny had no doubt the sound had emanated from Tilly’s throat.

“Why, I don’t believe so.” Bunny lovingly brushed the front of the jacket. “This was a gift from a dear friend.” She gave Margaret her warmest smile.

Thurston eyed Margaret closely. The elderly woman shrugged then nodded. “All right.” Thurston rapped his gavel against the desktop podium. “This Board hereby grants you approval, conditioned upon final financing arrangements.” He opened a small personal planner. “We expect your settlement to be complete by November first. Understood?”

“Understood.” Bunny stood to leave. “Thank you.”

November first. The day after The Worthington Cup concluded. Her pulse roared in her ears and anxiety played havoc with her belly. Her entire future rode on her ability to successfully plan a dog show.
A dog show
. If that wasn’t cosmic irony, she didn’t know what was.

She’d almost made it to the door when Thurston cleared his throat. “I’ll be watching you, Miss Love. Very, very carefully.”

Great. She mentally rolled her eyes. Join the club.

o0o

“I’ll be watching you,” Tilly mimicked as they headed for the elevator.

“Shh,” Bunny warned. “With my luck he’s probably got the whole place bugged.”

“I did hear he rigged an alarm to that sofa.” Tilly winked. “Slightest rearrangement sets it off.”

“Very funny.” Bunny punched the up button.

“You happy?”

Bunny shot her friend a glare. “That I get to keep a roof over my head? Or that I’ll be forced to live with Thurston Monroe watching every move I make?”

Tilly patted her shoulder. “He’ll get over it. You’ll see.”

“How could you let me wear a suit you
stole
from the wardrobe closet?”

Tilly rolled her eyes. “Hey, I thought they said we could keep our outfits.”

“I’d strangle you if you weren’t my best friend.”

Tilly winked. “You’d never strangle me. I’m too cute.”

Bunny made a face, but Tilly was right. She’d be lost without her support and friendship. “Want to run to Daffy’s with me before they close?”

“Can’t.” Tilly frowned. “It’s on-line chat night for the Psychic Hotline.”

The elevator doors slid open and the two stepped inside. Bunny leaned heavily against the polished brass wall. “I need suits.” She leaned to rub one heel. “And some different shoes. These pumps are killing me.”

Upstairs, Tilly followed Bunny into her apartment then perched on the arm of an oversized stuffed chair. “Where’s Alexandra?”

“How’d you know she was here?” Bunny eyed her friend curiously, kicking off the dreadful pumps.

“Please.” Tilly rolled her eyes. “All I heard all day was the vacuum or Barry Manilow.”

Bunny winced. “Sorry.”

Tilly widened her eyes, as if waiting for an explanation.

“She left my dad.” Bunny opened a kitchen cabinet, gesturing toward the immaculately organized plastic storage containers. “She’s taking it out on me.”

Tilly’s nose crinkled as she stepped close. “I didn’t know those things were meant to be stacked.”

“It gets worse.” Bunny reached for the newest addition to her once sacred kitchen space. The sleek, black coffeemaker stuck out like a sore thumb next to the delicate herb garden.

“Omigosh.” Tilly shuddered at the sight of the machine, taking a melodramatic step backward. “This is worse than I thought.”

“You can joke.” Bunny yanked a hand towel from the rack and flipped it over the machine to hide most of the plastic and glass. “But this is serious.” She patted the top of the appliance. “This means Alexandra’s staying for a while.”

She headed for the bedroom, Tilly close on her heels.

“You two get along all right, though, don’t you?”

“When she’s not trying to control my life? Sure.” Bunny slipped off the suit jacket and carefully hung it on a padded hanger. Stepping out of the skirt, she reached for her softest pair of blue jeans, then plucked her favorite tie-dyed T-shirt from a dresser drawer.

“That’s better,” Tilly beamed. She waggled a finger at Bunny’s head. “That smooth hair’s freaking me out. You know the messy look is in. If you have to wear suits, at least you could keep the messy hair.”

Bunny self-consciously touched her hand to her head. She felt like an alien with the slick look, but apparently Nate McNulty had thought otherwise. The heat in his eyes had been unmistakable when he’d first seen her that morning. Ah well, now that she knew he and Melanie were an item, it all made sense. A man like Nathan McNulty
would
go for someone wearing Chanel and polished, smooth hair. It’s what society types did.

“Are you coming with me or not?” Bunny nervously glanced at the wall clock. “They’ll be closed in an hour.”

Tilly hopped down from the chair. “Can’t. Gotta chat.” She shook her head. “I think my chakras would shrivel up and die if they witnessed you buying suits.”

Bunny nodded toward the limp outfit on the hanger. “I’ll get it cleaned before I return it to the theater.”

“You can’t return it now. They think it’s yours. Besides,” Tilly said softly, “it complements the new you.”

Bunny winced at her friend’s words. “I need the new me.”