Then it occurred to me that she might have someone else in there with her.
“I can come back later, if this is a bad time,” I called, shutting my mind on trying speculate who might be in my assistant’s quarters at this hour . . . and why.
In response, the door flew open, and Bunny stood framed in the doorway.
“Come on in, Skeeve,” she said, rather breathlessly. “This is a surprise.”
It certainly was.
Silhouetted against the light, at first I thought she was stark naked. Then she turned, and I realized she was actually wearing a brightly colored outfit that was skin tight and hugged her body like it was painted on.
“Umm . . .”I said smoothly, unable to tear my eyes from her form.
“Sorry I’m such a mess,” she said, grabbing up a towel and beginning to dab the sweat from her face and throat. “I was just working out.”
Now, as you know, I’ve gotten pretty intense while working out my own problems in the past, but I’ve never felt the need to wear a special outfit while doing it. Then again, I’ve never worked up the kind of sweat doing it that Bunny seemed to. Whatever her problems were, they must be dillies.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I said, genuinely concerned.
“No thanks,” she smiled. “I was pretty much done when you knocked. Maybe sometime you can come in and spot for me, though.”
Now she had lost me completely. Spot what? And how would spotting anything help her work things out?
“So what’s up?” she said, perching on the edge of her bed.
Whatever her problems were, they didn’t seem to have her particularly upset. I decided to hold off on trying to sort them out, at least, until I had settled what I came here to do.