Get Bunny Love by Kathleen Long Page B

hair into its usual state of disarray and let it air dry while she moved through her morning yoga routine. After downing the last of her green tea, she pulled the burgundy floral dress from its hanger. The delicate fabric brushed softly against her skin as she slipped it over her head.
    She pulled on her new, black patent-leather sling backs, glossed on a rich, ruby lipstick, and stopped for a quick final check in the bathroom mirror. Her hair curled and waved uncontrollably, natural highlights kissing the tips of each peak and valley. Better , she thought. Much, much better .
    Her mother hadn’t stirred from the other bedroom. Bunny paused outside the door to listen. Silence . At least she slept like a log once she went down. Alexandra had been out late with her greeting card design instructor doing God knew what. Based on the gleam of the kitchen floor, the woman had been mainlining espresso. Either that or there had been some seriously pent-up frustrations to work out.
    Bunny glanced at her answering machine. Not a peep from her father. The king of denial. Why confront the problem when eventually her mother would soften and go home, once again shoving down a little piece of her own rebellion?
    This was exactly why Bunny avoided serious relationships. They always ended up with one person doing all of the conceding and the other getting off scot-free. Talk about emotional torture. Marriage was not for her. Not now. Not ever.
    She grabbed her briefcase from beside her desk, casting a long, yearning look at her bunny slippers. What if she had a creative emergency? What good would she be without them? She plucked them from the floor and tucked them inside her briefcase. The floppy ears were a bit difficult to conceal, but she managed. Barely.
    The green shoots of her lucky bamboo stalks caught her attention next. She hesitated. Nathan wouldn’t complain about a small plant, would he? Bunny gently tucked the ceramic container into the crook of her arm, grabbed her keys and headed to work.
    An hour later, she sat at her desk doing her best to ignore her throbbing toes. The delicate shoes had seemed heavenly in the store, but certainly felt anything but after the walk to work. She’d have to break out the bunny slippers soon if she wanted to keep her ability to walk intact.
    “Beatrice.” Nate’s rich voice rumbled into her cubicle. His tall, masculine figure followed, coming to a halt as soon as he set eyes on her. A look of surprise washed over his face, sending anxiety fluttering through Bunny’s stomach.
    “Something wrong?” she asked coolly, pushing the lucky bamboo shoots out of sight behind her computer monitor.
    “You’re not-” He plowed a hand through his dark brown locks, leaving them disheveled. “You’re not wearing a suit.”
    “No.” Bunny stood from her chair to smooth the front of her dress, admiring how the ruffled hem brushed the tops of her knees.
    A flush fired in Nate’s cheeks, and his Adam’s apple worked in his throat. “Those are ruffles.” His voice had grown thick and robotic.
    “Yes.” She held her chin defiantly high. “You don’t have a dress code here at McNulty Events, do you?”
    He met her determined stance with a leveled glare, a fraction of heat slipping from his mocha gaze. “No.” His dark brows arched. “But we do insist on professionalism. I’m not sure how appropriate that...” he nodded his head toward Bunny, “...dress is for the office.”
    Frustration fired in Bunny’s midsection. She thought of her mother, probably back in the apartment right now bingeing on cheap, chocolate candy because she’d woken up one day and realized how stifled her life had become. There was a lesson for Bunny there—to defend her individuality while she could. If she didn’t act now, she’d suffocate in this gray place.
    “I am a creative, professional woman, Mr. McNulty.”
    His brown eyes popped a bit wider. Bunny stepped closer.
    “And I will respect your need for