of this woman. “We’ve added an interactive Web site and expanded the preview night cocktail party.”
“To the public?” Martha’s features pinched.
“No.” Nate cleared his throat. “To the contestants.”
Martha took a dramatic sip of her water, returned the glass to the table, and crossed her arms in her lap. “Surely you aren’t referring to the dogs?”
“Revolutionary, isn’t it?” Bunny chirped.
Nate shot her a warning look, and she snapped her mouth shut.
“Dogs drink from toilets.” Martha’s expression grew pained. She let out an exasperated breath. “Why on earth would they require a cocktail party?”
“Kitty Worthington loves the idea.” Nate’s lips curved into a hopeful smile.
“She would. She’s a dog person, Nathan.”
Martha waved to get the waiter’s attention. “I’ve got a massage at two,” she announced. “You’ve got to keep on top of them here.”
Bunny nodded. The control issue most definitely was an innate McNulty trait.
“Dogs and cocktails.” Martha spoke the words slowly as if she were trying them on for size. “Well, if nothing else, it should guarantee coverage in the society pages.” Her eyes narrowed, carefully studying Bunny. “Which firm were you with prior to joining McNulty?”
“I was self-employed.” Bunny’s voice tightened.
“Why join a firm? Weren’t you successful?”
The woman shot straight from the hip. That much was certain. “You obviously appreciate honesty.”
Martha rocked back in her seat, arching one perfectly plucked brow. “Yes, I do.”
“I’ve been forced to take a mortgage on my apartment, now a condo, and my previous freelance income wasn’t sufficient.”
Bunny watched the woman’s eyes grow wide and realized she’d provided far too much insight into her personal life.
Martha gave Bunny a measured look.
Bunny’s heart worked in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but Martha waved her jeweled hand dismissively. “So what if you did this for the money. That’s a perfectly acceptable reason and one for which you need not apologize. I find your candor refreshing.”
Relief washed through Bunny. “Thank you.”
The remainder of their lunch passed uneventfully. Bunny successfully held her own against Martha’s no-nonsense manner, and the topic of her parents never resurfaced.
o0o
Martha McNulty didn’t care for the way Nathan’s gaze followed each expressive flip of Miss Love’s hands. Not that the girl wasn’t without charm. Far from it, but she would never do for a McNulty. My God, she had to arrange financing to afford a condominium . What kind of upbringing had she had?
This was Alexandra Conroy’s daughter, after all. She was obviously as energetic as her mother had been. Hell, her mother had been a lunatic—like a cheerleader on speed. Rumor was she’d calmed down after marriage, but the apple couldn’t fall far from the tree.
Martha carefully measured Miss Love’s bright expression. Not far at all, apparently. Be that as it may, as long as any inherited familial energy was channeled into planning The Worthington Cup and away from Nathan, they’d get along fine.
Nathan was to marry Melanie Brittingham, and their marriage would seal his position in Philadelphia society. Their union would be the perfect blending of two of the region’s finest families.
Security. Martha had sacrificed her own dreams to raise Nate, and she wasn’t about to watch some free-spirited, ruffle-wearing young woman distract him from the plans she’d made.
Melanie’s father had already offered Nate a position in the family’s firm. All that stood in the way was her nephew’s loyalty to his father’s event planning business and an engagement ring. She was capable of handling both.
Perhaps her promise to Nate regarding The Worthington Cup had been premature. She should have sold the firm when she had the chance. Of course, Miller’s offer still stood.
A bright smile illuminated Nathan’s face
“To the public?” Martha’s features pinched.
“No.” Nate cleared his throat. “To the contestants.”
Martha took a dramatic sip of her water, returned the glass to the table, and crossed her arms in her lap. “Surely you aren’t referring to the dogs?”
“Revolutionary, isn’t it?” Bunny chirped.
Nate shot her a warning look, and she snapped her mouth shut.
“Dogs drink from toilets.” Martha’s expression grew pained. She let out an exasperated breath. “Why on earth would they require a cocktail party?”
“Kitty Worthington loves the idea.” Nate’s lips curved into a hopeful smile.
“She would. She’s a dog person, Nathan.”
Martha waved to get the waiter’s attention. “I’ve got a massage at two,” she announced. “You’ve got to keep on top of them here.”
Bunny nodded. The control issue most definitely was an innate McNulty trait.
“Dogs and cocktails.” Martha spoke the words slowly as if she were trying them on for size. “Well, if nothing else, it should guarantee coverage in the society pages.” Her eyes narrowed, carefully studying Bunny. “Which firm were you with prior to joining McNulty?”
“I was self-employed.” Bunny’s voice tightened.
“Why join a firm? Weren’t you successful?”
The woman shot straight from the hip. That much was certain. “You obviously appreciate honesty.”
Martha rocked back in her seat, arching one perfectly plucked brow. “Yes, I do.”
“I’ve been forced to take a mortgage on my apartment, now a condo, and my previous freelance income wasn’t sufficient.”
Bunny watched the woman’s eyes grow wide and realized she’d provided far too much insight into her personal life.
Martha gave Bunny a measured look.
Bunny’s heart worked in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but Martha waved her jeweled hand dismissively. “So what if you did this for the money. That’s a perfectly acceptable reason and one for which you need not apologize. I find your candor refreshing.”
Relief washed through Bunny. “Thank you.”
The remainder of their lunch passed uneventfully. Bunny successfully held her own against Martha’s no-nonsense manner, and the topic of her parents never resurfaced.
o0o
Martha McNulty didn’t care for the way Nathan’s gaze followed each expressive flip of Miss Love’s hands. Not that the girl wasn’t without charm. Far from it, but she would never do for a McNulty. My God, she had to arrange financing to afford a condominium . What kind of upbringing had she had?
This was Alexandra Conroy’s daughter, after all. She was obviously as energetic as her mother had been. Hell, her mother had been a lunatic—like a cheerleader on speed. Rumor was she’d calmed down after marriage, but the apple couldn’t fall far from the tree.
Martha carefully measured Miss Love’s bright expression. Not far at all, apparently. Be that as it may, as long as any inherited familial energy was channeled into planning The Worthington Cup and away from Nathan, they’d get along fine.
Nathan was to marry Melanie Brittingham, and their marriage would seal his position in Philadelphia society. Their union would be the perfect blending of two of the region’s finest families.
Security. Martha had sacrificed her own dreams to raise Nate, and she wasn’t about to watch some free-spirited, ruffle-wearing young woman distract him from the plans she’d made.
Melanie’s father had already offered Nate a position in the family’s firm. All that stood in the way was her nephew’s loyalty to his father’s event planning business and an engagement ring. She was capable of handling both.
Perhaps her promise to Nate regarding The Worthington Cup had been premature. She should have sold the firm when she had the chance. Of course, Miller’s offer still stood.
A bright smile illuminated Nathan’s face
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