Get Bunny Love by Kathleen Long Page A

last thing Nate needed was anyone giving her additional ideas.
    o0o
    Bunny browsed the racks of Daffy’s designer suit section without excitement. These outfits weren’t her. Too stiff. Too structured. Too...well...suits. She ran her fingertips down a rough burgundy crepe sheath and sighed. She didn’t belong on this floor. Hell. She didn’t belong in this world .
    She ruffled her hair, stopping to look at herself in a full-length mirror. Tilly was right. The straight hair was freaky. Corporate. But freaky.
    She blew out a frustrated breath, turning back toward the discount rack. She’d pick three basic suits and buy them. They’d mix. They’d match. They’d be boring. Piece of cake.
    Quickly scanning the rack for promising colors, her gaze settled first on a turquoise silk. The color was perfect—key for self-expression and creativity—exactly what she needed for her role at McNulty Events.
    She next plucked a bright orange sheath and long jacket from the rack. She held the outfit at arm’s length and nodded. Not bad. Orange was great for creativity, security and sexuality. She stifled a laugh. What a combination.
    One more. If she could find one more suit and a pair of comfortable shoes, she’d head home.
    A monotone woman on the overhead public address system announced fifteen minutes until closing. Drat. She needed to move quickly.
    A rich emerald sleeve peeked from between the black and grays of a second rack. Bunny tugged the suit free and grinned. It was actually quite charming. A short flared skirt with a long, fitted jacket. Oversized antiqued brass buttons gleamed down the jacket’s center.
    Bunny glanced at the price tag and winced. This corporate stuff wasn’t cheap.
    She tossed the suits over her arm and headed for the dressing rooms. A burst of feminine laughter drew her attention and Bunny looked toward the source, stopping dead in her tracks.
    A striking blonde circled and twirled before the triple mirrors. Her hair twisted smoothly into a large clip and a tight, sequined sheath of cobalt blue hugged her curves.
    Bunny was about to turn away, when the woman spun toward her, twisting to admire the low cut of the garment’s back. Bunny recognized her instantly—the life-sized Barbie doll.
    Melanie Brittingham . Little Miss Pink Chanel wouldn’t be caught dead in a sexy number like that. Would she?
    The woman planted her hands on her hips, struck a pose, then twirled once more. She disappeared into the dressing room, leaving Bunny to stare at the spot where she’d stood.
    Bunny blinked. She glanced at the suits over her arm, snapping herself from the trance. If she wanted to have anything to wear tomorrow, she’d better get a move on.
    She peered beneath each closed door as she made her way toward an empty dressing room stall, but saw no sign of the woman in blue. She must have been seeing things.
    A few moments later, she frowned at her reflection in the mirror. The turquoise suit fit beautifully, but was so not her style. She squinted. Was that her energy field she saw shriveling up?
    She stared lovingly at her tie-dyed T-shirt and jeans draped across the dressing room bench. They were her style. She ran a hand through her hair, doing her best to mess up the smooth strands. And that was her style. Not smooth. Not corporate. Not McNulty Events.
    After she returned the turquoise and orange suits to their places on the rack, only the emerald suit remained slung over the crook of her arm. She quickly moved to the clearance section and pulled a floral dress from where it hung. A soft ruffle wound its way down the wrapped front and traced the edge of the skirt’s hem. Perfect.
    Bunny dashed for the shoe department, pausing long enough to glance in a full-length mirror. She gave her hair a good shake and smiled.
    Tilly had been right. She’d always marched to the beat of a different drummer, encouraging creative freedom. Why stop now?

 
     
    CHAPTER SEVEN
    The next morning Bunny shook her damp