But there must have been something on the books, because he backed down and admitted, “I thought you was gone. Ain’t you supposed to be in Burbank singing right about now?”
I cursed. With James and all the whatnot, I had totally forgotten that I had a Soul BunnyGram appointment at 9:30 in Burbank. I looked at the clock. It was 9:10, which only made me curse again.
I scurried past Nicky to retrieve my jeans from where they were still lying right by the door. “I’ll be on the road in five minutes.”
“You need to be on the road now. Our client ain’t paying for colored people’s time.”
James stepped to Nicky again, stoic, even though he had my butter yellow top sheet wrapped around his waist. “I’ll make sure that she gets to her appointment on time.”
And then he did what few dared to do with Nicky. He stared him down. He did this even though Nicky was taller and a lot more muscular than him.
Nicky stared back for a few seconds, but then he got tired of that game and looked at me.
I guess Nicky and me, being best friends, were on a whole new level of ESP, because somehow he understood that I really, really needed him to not say another goddamn word and go.
He gave James one last hard stare and left, though the dramatic manager in him made sure to slam the door on his way out.
As soon as he was gone, James’s face went from hard to bemused. “Is that the same Nicky that owns the restaurant downstairs? The guy that was in your dressing room when I brought you your appointment book?”
I went to my closet. “Good memory.” At least for recent events.
“So he’s your landlord, too?”
I pulled my bunny suit out of the closet. “And my manager for the Soul BunnyGrams. And my best friend, technically.”
James was also pulling on his clothes now, and he was fastening his pants when he asked, “And your ex-boyfriend, too?”
No way was I getting into a conversation with James Farrell about my complicated history with Nicky.
I started putting my bunny suit on. “You don’t have to take me to my appointment,” I said.
“I think I do. I promised your weirdly inappropriate boss-slash-landlord.”
“No really. I’ve got a car. I can get myself there.”
“Do you want me to zip you up?”
I had a hook that I kept in my kitchen drawer to do that job, but I was in a hurry, so I turned and let James zip me into the bunny suit.
“I’m afraid if I don’t drive you, that you’ll run,” he said behind me.
“Even if you did drive me, I’d run.” I was too late and flustered to lie to him. “I’d just run later.”
“Well, luckily I’m only worried about now.”
I grabbed a hair band and pulled my Afro into a low puff at my neck as fast as I could. “Listen, James, I’m just going to be straight up with you.” Sort of, I added to myself.
I gathered up my iPod speaker box, my satchel, and the rest of what I would need to deliver the BunnyGram as I explained the situation to him.
“I have made a vow to myself never to accept a guy’s Invitation to Crazy, and from the moment you showed up at my dressing room door, that’s what I’ve felt like you’ve been trying to hand me. I don’t think you’re a terrible person necessarily, but I’ve had enough psycho moments in my past and I must protect myself. Which is why when we part, I have every intention of running away and not ever accepting another one of your calls or answering the door if you show up here again. I also plan to tell Leon not to let you back into the club. I hope you can understand that.”
James stopped me mid-gather, by cupping his hands around my shoulders. “Invitation to Crazy. That’s a good one. Last night I was trying to figure out why I was so attracted to you, even though you stood me up, told me to go away, and then tricked me into eating overcooked chicken.” He pulled my bunny hood up over my ears. “But now I know why. You handed me an Invitation to Crazy. That’s a perfect description for it.”
“Only thing is,” he said in my bunny ear, “I’m not hesitating to take it.”