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of the entrance to the Philadelphia Convention Center.
    “You worry about The Worthington Cup. I’ll worry about the carpet.”
    “But color plays a crucial role in the balance and feel of a space,” she replied.
    Nate pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed the driver a twenty-dollar bill. “This is somehow important to you?”
    “To everyone, Mr. McNulty.” Her emphasis on the words reinforced her sincerity.
    He met her twinkling gaze and warmth seeped through him. There was something about Miss Beatrice Love he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
    “Why don’t you call me Nathan,” he said. “It’s easier than Mr. McNulty.”
    Beatrice’s features lit with surprise, then a breathtaking smile spread across her face. Something inside him hummed to life. Though unfamiliar, the sensation felt oddly exciting.
    “I’ll call you Nathan, if you’ll call me Bunny.”
    “Bunny.” The word rolled effortlessly off his tongue. “I meant to ask you earlier if that was a country club nickname?”
    A mischievous glint fired in her eyes. “Yes,” she said quickly. “Pure country club.”
    “Then, Bunny it is.”
    She opened the door to slide out, stopping momentarily to lean toward the front seat. “Thank you,” she chirped to the driver. “Have a great day.”
    The cabbie smiled as though he hadn’t heard those words in a very long time. Nate paused for a beat before he climbed from the cab. Perhaps something could be said for cosmic energy after all.
    o0o
    Tilly Stringer braced herself for impact then slammed into the corner of the imposing building’s wall. She glared angrily at the rollerblades on her feet. Why did people in commercials make these look enjoyable? She shifted her insulated pouch to one hip and gingerly navigated the revolving doors.
    A perfectly coiffed young woman looked up from the receptionist’s desk. She frowned when she spotted Tilly. “May I help you?” She wrinkled her nose, eyeing Tilly’s delivery bag. “Do you need me to sign for something?”
    “Not unless you ordered a medium half-mushroom pie.”
    “Pie?”
    “Pizza.”
    “I don’t think so.” The woman’s nose tipped skyward.
    Tilly stepped daintily across the marble foyer, struggling to keep her balance atop her skates. “I actually needed to speak with Bunny Love for a moment, please.”
    “Bunny Love?” The receptionist’s frown grew more intense.
    Tilly considered giving her the frozen face warning, but decided against it. “Beatrice Love,” she explained. “Today is her first day. I think her boss is named Nathan.”
    “Everyone here has a boss named Nathan,” the receptionist sighed. “He runs the company.”
    Tilly clucked her tongue. “Gotcha.” She glanced around the foyer, spotting the time on the wall clock. “Listen, I gotta skate. Is there any way I can get a message to Bunny...er...Beatrice. It’s a matter of life and death.”
    “Whose death?” a clipped male voice spoke from behind her. Tilly whirled around, losing her balance and grasping for the granite counter.
    The blond gentleman caught her, steadying her by one elbow. A smile flickered across his face as he repeated his question. “ Whose death?”
    “Bunny Love,” Tilly whispered. The most beautiful shade of sapphire she’d ever seen ringed his cornflower blue eyes. She swallowed. Hard.
    “Bunny’s life is in danger?” Laugh lines crinkled the corners of his eyes.
    Tilly’s mouth turned to cotton. This was unheard of. The man was a suit. In the truest sense of the word. She gazed down the length of his charcoal pinstripes and sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of burgundy tassled loafers. The unmistakable pull of excitement tightened in her belly. These were the sexiest loafers she’d ever seen, and she was fairly certain the sensation had everything to do with the man wearing them and not the shoes themselves. “Nice shoes,” she murmured.
    He gazed down at her rollerblades and arched a blond brow. “Nice