Get Bunny Love (18 page)

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t call Bert. I can get you up.”

He blinked, his eyes appearing unfocused for the briefest moment. “Let’s get something straight right now.” His voice had grown thick and robotic. “I am not interested in
you
getting me
up
. I am only interested in you getting off of me and out of my sight, as quickly as possible.”

“But, I can help.” She gripped his shoulders, and he tensed beneath her touch.

“No.”

His dark gaze locked with hers, sending nervous heat skittering to her toes. “I’ll massage your back.”

“No.” He scowled.

“I’ll be gentle.” She slid her touch from his shoulders to his chest.

“No.” Nate’s eye twitched and he winced.

“Please. I’m quite good with my hands.” She worked her palms against the rough fabric of his jacket, hoping the motion would soothe the anger boiling in his glare.

“No!” The force of the word reverberated in Bunny’s bones.

She flinched and scrambled backward, out of range should he decide to start kicking. Her throat tightened and tears welled in her eyes. “I only wanted to-”

Nate thrust up one palm. “Not...another...word.”

He rolled onto one hip, leveling a glare that shook her to the core. “From this moment until The Worthington Cup takes place, I do not want to sense your positive chi in this firm. Is that clear?”

“But I-”

“I do not want to see plants, or bunny slippers or candles. I do not want to hear chimes, or tiny waterfalls or hamsters. I do not want to hear your voice. I do not want to see your smile. I do not want to gaze into your eyes. Do you understand?”

Bunny nodded meekly. He couldn’t mean it. She clasped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from throwing up. Vomit was just about the last thing this office’s energy needed.

“If you need assistance from me, you’ll speak to Miss Peabody. And if you pull off the Cup, perhaps—just perhaps—you’ll keep your job.”

Dread pooled in her stomach.
Her job
. She winced. Without her job, she’d lose her condo. Somewhere in her mission to free Nate’s energy, she’d lost sight of the whole reason she was even at McNulty Events. “I only wanted to improve the flow of energy in your office.”

Nate looked up disbelievingly from his prone position, his scowl mixed with pain. “Well, your plan worked beautifully.”

She gulped down her distress just as a knock sounded at the door.

Bert cleared his throat. “Am I interrupting something?”

Bunny scrambled to her feet.

“Miss Love was just leaving,” Nate snarled. “Please see her to her cubicle and chain her there if necessary. Pull my door closed behind you so that I may salvage my dignity.”

Bunny shot Nate one last desperate glance as she headed for the door. His eyes were closed, his chin turned defiantly away from her.

Bert took her elbow and escorted her into the hall. He pulled the office door shut and winked. “May I surmise the changes knocked him off his feet?”

Bunny turned to Miss Peabody’s trash can and tossed that morning’s herbal tea.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Barry Manilow seeped into Bunny’s brain as soon as her alarm clocked chimed.
Copacabana
. That couldn’t be good.

She glanced at the clock. One hour before she had to meet Bert at Nate’s apartment. Nate had finally agreed to see her, though only for an update on Cup planning.

She winced. A dislocated back. So much for the positive effects of feng shui. Thanks to her efforts, Nate would be laid up for days, maybe even weeks.

She headed straight for the bathroom, definitely needing a hot shower before facing whatever Alexandra had organized this time.

A few minutes later Bunny pinched her arm furiously, hoping the lack of color on her apartment walls was part of a really bad dream. “How long have you been at this?” She stared in shocked horror at the bland color.
Eggshell
.

“Isn’t it glorious?” her mother beamed. “I started around three this morning. I was blocked, dear.”

“Blocked?” Disbelief flickered through Bunny’s belly. Life had been so simple before Alexandra had buzzed into town.

“Creatively.” Her mother waved the paintbrush at the wall, sending a drop of acrylic to the floor.

Bunny bit back a whimper.

Alexandra narrowed her eyes. “This is a much better color scheme than what you had going, honey. All those colors were rather juvenile. Don’t you want to be taken seriously?”

Not particularly
. Bunny opened her mouth to argue, but realized sooner or later, her mother would go back to Florida. Then she could reclaim her space. Until then, if Alexandra needed to paint, she could paint. Why stifle a creative awakening? Even if it was eggshell.

She shrugged, pasting on a fake smile. “Get unblocked soon, okay? Every time you hit a wall, I’m losing valuable square footage.”

Alexandra plucked a handful of jellybeans from a ceramic bowl typically used for fruit. “Funny, dear,” she mumbled around the mouthful of sugar. “Very funny.”

Bunny couldn’t help but notice they were one family member short. “Where’s Daddy?”

“At the Four Seasons. I kicked him out.”

“You what?” Bunny squeaked.

“The printer was a setup. Your father thought he could overwhelm me by talking business plans. He thought I’d give up my dream and scamper back to Florida.”

See
? Bunny would be insane to fall for a control freak like Nate. Just look at her mother and father. Her mother was completely smothered even now. My God, the woman thought eggshell was a hot decorating color.

Alexandra straightened, slapping a fresh coat of paint onto an innocent wall. “I told him he must have me confused with some other wife.”

Bunny sputtered on her cup of tea. “You said that to
Daddy
?”

Her mother raised her brows. “And a whole lot more that you’re too young to hear.”

Bunny nodded, pride swelling in her chest. “Go, Alexandra.” She set down her cup to flip through the pile of folders she’d left on the coffee table.

“Lose something, honey?”

Frustration rippled through Bunny’s chest.
Yes
. But she wasn’t about to admit that to the queen of control. “I just need some forms for my mortgage. They’re due today and I wanted to drop them off on my way to my meeting.” Suddenly, she spied the documents and breathed a sigh of relief. “Got them.”

“You should keep a list.” Alexandra’s voice chirped.

“List?” Bunny’s head pounded. She couldn’t tell if the sensation stemmed from paint fumes or her mother’s constant desire to organize her life. She headed for the front door, now with only twenty minutes to make it to Nate’s.

“A
to do
list.” Alexandra enunciated the words carefully, as if Bunny might not be able to grasp the concept. “Keeping a list of things to do never hurt anyone.”

“Tell that to the trees.” Bunny pulled the front door closed behind her, eagerly gulping down the fresh hallway air on her way to the elevator.

o0o

Bunny watched Bert slip the key into the door of Nate’s apartment. Sudden nerves threatened to strangle her. “We’re just going to walk in?”

“He knows we’re coming. Besides, he’s supposed to stay off his feet.”

“I thought he’d like the changes we made to his office,” she said softly.

“He fell for them,” Bert teased. “Quite literally.”

“It was your idea.”

Bert winked mischievously. “He doesn’t know that.”

“I could tell him.” But she wouldn’t. Not her style. Bert knew it and shot her a wide grin.

She followed him into the apartment, her gaze locking on a wall of windows overlooking Fairmount Park. Breathtaking. Orange and yellow leaves still clung to the trees, painting the view with an artist’s brush.

“Nate, my boy,” Bert called out. “The troops have arrived.”

Bunny stood still, her feet riveted to the carpet. The gray carpet. Her heart fell. Even here, in his home, with the stunning beauty of nature providing a breathtaking backdrop, Nate clung to gray. What was he so afraid of? Life?

She scanned the living space for a sign of vitality. The only thing that caught her eye was the arrangement of photos above the fireplace. Symmetrical. Stiff. So much like the arrangement in his office that a shiver cascaded down her spine.

She sniffed the air, hoping for a fragrance—something masculine...musky...Nate. Nothing. Heck, he’d managed to sterilize the air along with the rest of his life.

She shuddered, tamping down her disappointment. After all, what had she expected? Splashes of color and wild artwork? Fragranced candles? Incense? This was Nate. A sad sigh slipped from her lips. She guessed she’d hoped he hid his vitality at home—or let it free here.

Bert eyed her suspiciously. “Problem?”

Bunny shook her head. “It’s just so...”

“Nate.” He said softly. “Come on. Embrace the order.”

She followed him down the hall toward Nate.
Embrace the order
? Never. She’d rather shrivel up and die than have her life force sucked as dry as Nate’s.

Nate sat propped against a pile of pillows. He repositioned himself, grimacing as he straightened. Bunny’s stomach tightened. What had she done?

“I’m so-”

Nate shook his head, interrupting her apology before she could begin. “Let’s stick to business. What’s done is done.”

“I’ve got to go.” Bert glanced at his watch. “Breakfast meeting.”

“Go?” Bunny blurted, her already tense stomach twisting into a knot.

“Breakfast?” Nate frowned.

Bert was across the room and out the door. “You two have a good catch-up session.”

“Traitor,” Nate mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Impatience bubbled in Bunny’s chest, overriding her nerves. “You’re a mumbler.”

“You’re a bumbler.” Nate’s dark brows arched tauntingly.

Bunny felt the air rush from her lungs. So much for sticking to business. “I beg your pardon?”

“Let’s review, shall we?” Warm color flushed his cheeks. “You poisoned me.” He held up a finger. “You destroyed the so-called energy in the conference room.” Another finger. “And you turned my office into an obstacle course.” A third finger.

Heat flared in her face. “If I’m so incompetent, why don’t you fire me?”

“I’m sure I would if I wasn’t so heavily drugged.”

She smiled then quickly straightened her features. “Do you think I’m incompetent?”

“No.” He stared at her, his fiery gaze sending hot, electric pulses to her toes. “I don’t think you’re incompetent. Overly enthusiastic, perhaps. But not incompetent.”

The words cheered her, bolstering her mood. “Thank you.” She pulled several folders from her briefcase. “I brought the Cup files to update you on our progress.”

“Let’s get to it, shall we?” Nate pointed to a rocking chair. “Pull that over.”

Bunny did as she was told, numb with the realization Nate was being gracious about his injury. Just how strong were his meds? And where could she get more to keep him this way?

As she positioned the rocker, her gaze fell onto an exquisite framed pen and ink. A family of four.
A definite sign of life
. Mother. Father. Two boys. Her heart swelled. Nate’s family—she recognized the faces.

“My mother’s,” Nate volunteered, having obviously noticed her open-mouthed stare.

The piece of art apparently held a special place in Nate’s heart. Bunny warmed. There was hope after all. “Did Martha do this?”

Nate frowned. “Why would you think that?”

Bunny met his confused look. “Alexandra mentioned your aunt was quite the artist.”

Nate’s rich, brown eyes widened. “I had no idea.”

“Doesn’t the rest of this bother you?” She gestured to the stark bedroom walls. “Don’t you crave color?”

“What I crave is coffee, if you think you could manage a cup.”

“I don’t know how to make coffee,” she admitted. “How about a nice cup of-”

His warning glare froze the word on her lips.

“Coffee,” she stammered. “Coming right up.”

“There’s a jar of instant,” Nate offered as she headed for the door. “You can boil water without any major catastrophes, can’t you?”

“You’re so set in your ways.” Frustration bubbled in Bunny’s chest. He could free his energy. He could
live
. “This whole place is rigid and stiff,” she blurted out.

“Sometimes stiff is good.” One dark brow arched.

Bunny swallowed, heat infusing her cheeks. “I’ll get that coffee.” She was out the door and into the hall in three strides.

o0o

Nate leaned back against the pillow, chuckling softly to himself. Where had that inappropriate comment come from? Must be the pain pills talking.

He scanned the room, his gaze following the clean lines of the walls, the knickknack-free expanse of chest and bureau. Finally, he turned to stare at the pen and ink. He’d had it so long he never noticed it anymore, to tell the truth.

Nate plucked the frame from the nightstand and stared into the captured expressions of his family.

Bunny was right. His gut clenched. This was the only sign of life in his apartment, and two out of four pictured were dead. Regret welled in his chest as he remembered his argument with Aunt Martha and Jeremy’s words.

If I’d followed her rules, I’d be the one whose most exciting experience in years had been an allergic reaction
.

Maybe Bunny Love had breezed into his life for a purpose. She’d shown him just how dead inside he’d become.

Bunny stepped back into the room, chattering something about how he could use curtains to warm the living room to complement the view of the park.

He studied her then, noticing how her own colors suited her perfectly—the reddish brown hair softly framing her pert features, the long lashes a dark contrast against her pale skin and her bottomless blue eyes. Bunny stood frozen, her gaze locked with his.

His stomach tightened and he remembered again how much he’d wanted to kiss her on Saturday night. How much he wanted to kiss her right now.

“Is something wrong?” She leaned forward, reaching toward the nightstand with the coffee mug, her voice nothing more than a whisper.