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“I’d like to know where your quota’s at.”
“And for that you needed to show up unannounced and intrude on a private visit with my family?” she asked, her own head dipping with faux consternation. “You’re so unbelievably full of it.”
His jaw flexed. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible movement, but Bunny saw the telltale flicker. “You won’t be having any gatherings with anyone if you don’t meet that quota,” he warned her.
She wasn’t about to give any ground. Bunny allowed herself a languid blink, before she stared right back at him. “I’m well aware.”
Death didn’t seem convinced. “What was your biggest split?”
“Three hundred and seventeen,” Bunny replied without skipping a beat.
A peculiar expression passed over his face, like a cloud that momentarily shielded the sun from view. He sat upright, moving his head from side to side as he stretched his neck before he stood. Bunny took in the sight of the rumpled covers where he had been sitting, before looking at him across the bed.
“You’ll need to get that up into the hundreds of thousands to stand a chance at making this work,” he told her, serving his words without mercy.
“I know how to math,” she volleyed back, refusing to let him unnerve her.
His tongue darted out to lick his lips, as though preparing to say something else that he wisely chose not to voice at the last second. He paused, his eyes darting away from her face uncomfortably.
“I have to be several somewhere elses.” Death crossed the room, heading for the door. His eyes were on the carpet in front of him as he walked, lessening the impact of his usually exceptional posture. “Get some rest and double-down tomorrow.”
Bunny’d had enough of his commands. “Sir, yes sir!”
“Cute,” he said wryly, fixing her with a withering look before he slipped through the bedroom door.
“I am not cute,” she muttered under her breath, stalking over to lock the door behind him as though it would keep him—and her thoughts of him—at bay.
