It came out stilted and weird, mocking almost, and both Carl and Cooper looked at her oddly. One with suspicion, the other with surprise.

“Glad you approve,” Carl said snidely, his bushy brows furrowing.

Felicity gave up, grabbed the van keys Cooper had tossed in a heap on her clipboard earlier, and left them to it.

Brittany gave an enthusiastic bark at her return, doing little circles of delight before flopping her head on Felicity’s shoulder again.

“You do know you saw me less than ten minutes ago, right?”

When Cooper rejoined them, this time there was a little amusement in her eyes. “Well, you tried.”

Cheeks burning up, Felicity stared out the window. “I meant what I said. Daisy is a fine animal.”

“You sure you’re in senior management at some international company? How is talking politely to strangers so hard for you?”

She wished she knew. Felicity could argue circles around the clones in gray suits who thought they were better than her until she proved them wrong. But that part of her life was bloodless and emotionless. In fact, there was no investment of feelings at all, unless you counted vindication when she won. All of that, everything, was about business. It was safe.

But here, now, nothing was centered on doing deals, and everywhere she turned, she was being hit by powerful emotions. Sadness, pity, anger, regret, and loss. It was horrifying. And she was only halfway through the day.

At Felicity’s silence, Cooper continued. “You just don’t seem to do the small-talk side of things well. I thought schmoozing was a prerequisite for those kinds of jobs.”

Sighing, Felicity folded her arms. “It’s insincere. I see no need to indulge in it.” Well, to be accurate, Felicity could distract anyone bothering her with irrelevancies by shifting focus back to work.

“So you’re out of practice?”

“I don’t think I was ever in practice.” Funny how she’d never stopped to wonder if that was a bad thing.

“You really aren’t like anyone I know.” Cooper’s gaze was direct and curious. “But Brittany seems to like you, and she’s an excellent judge of character.”

Brittany’s head lifted off Felicity’s shoulder and turned to Cooper, ears twitching at the mention of her name.

“Damn, I left my notes behind.” Cooper climbed out of the van again. “Try not to look too horrified if my dog licks you or something.”

“I make no promises,” Felicity sassed back.

Clearly deciding she’d been talked about enough without being petted, Brittany suddenly squeezed into the front seat and curled up on Felicity’s lap.

“Excuse me.” Felicity eyed her. “I did not give you permission to do that.” She kept her hands well above the bundle of warmth in her lap and gave the dog a suspicious look. “What’s next? You expecting belly rubs? Never going to happen. Do you hear me? Never.”

Brittany gave an adorable little huff of happiness and closed her eyes.

Felicity’s hands were still hovering in the air as if she were about to play the piano when Cooper returned.

Cooper glanced at her, then the dog, then back to Felicity again. “That’ll teach you to feed her. You’re stuck with her now. Brit’s anyone’s for a bit of ham.”

She’d seen that? “Well, I wasn’t going to eat it all,” Felicity muttered. “Seemed wasteful to throw it away. Now I’m stuck with a canine parasite.”

“Seems like it.” Cooper’s gaze was speculative. “You know, you don’t have to keep her on your lap if you don’t want her there. Just give her a push, and she’ll go back to her seat.”

“Right.” Felicity did as instructed, and Brittany, remarkably, squeezed into the back. And once again, the dog lay her muzzle on Felicity’s shoulder.

She sighed inwardly. “Must you?” she muttered to the animal.

“Apparently you’re the chosen one now.”

“Just my luck,” Felicity said under her breath.

Cooper eyed her speculatively. But all she said was, “All right, let’s get going.” She suddenly laughed as she started the engine. “My God, your face when you realized where my hand was about to go. Priceless.”

“Yes, well, for some reason I’m not immune to the sight of someone shoving their hand up a dog’s backside.”

“I suppose. If it makes you feel better, it’s the job vets hate second worst of all.”

Felicity paused. “If that’s only second worst, what’s the worst job?”

“Don’t ask that, Felicity.” Cooper’s expression was grim. She thumped her foot on the gas pedal.

* * *

The rest of their time together blurred as Felicity silently observed Cooper interacting with the homeless and their pets. She was confident, calm, and comforting, even when, as happened at least once, she got cursed at by clients who weren’t in the best of states.

Felicity had a renewed respect for her, and she couldn’t get what had been left unsaid out of her mind. Sometimes, some awful times, Cooper had to put animals down. That would be the worst thing for a vet.

Felicity doubted very much she could do that, ever. She could understand the necessity, but she was too weak herself. Just as well she didn’t own a pet, then. She’d be useless at being strong when they needed her most. Why did they have to be so tempting, though? She’d probably only be able to hold out a week more, maybe two, before she completely fell for Loki, the cutest little tree defiler.

Felicity forced that disturbing thought from her head and raised something that had been bothering her.

“Can I ask you something?” Felicity began. “About Norma, the first client we saw today. She’s homeless, yet she also has an iPhone. How can she be begging for money when she has a fancy phone? Is she scamming people?”

Cooper sighed. “I hate that question. Can I ask you something? If that phone was given to her by a loved one to keep in touch because they’re worried about her, is that okay with you?”

“I—” Felicity frowned. “Yes?”

“If she got it from her last employer and was then made redundant but allowed to keep it, is that okay with you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So why don’t you just assume that’s what happened and move on?”

“Is it?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

It just did. Felicity wasn’t sure why.

“You’re focused on it maybe because you think homeless people shouldn’t have anything nice or it means they’re scamming people. She should sell her phone for food or accommodation if she’s so hard up, right? Why is a phone seen as an essential to everyone except the homeless? A phone lets her talk to family for her own mental health and well-being, and it can help her get a job. This is her most precious possession, and yet so many people think she doesn’t deserve it. Worse, some people think the poor should be punished for being in their situation, and owning nothing good ever is part of that view.”

“I didn’t say that. I don’t want anyone punished for being in a bad situation.”