“Good,” Felicity said, the thrill of the hunt filling her. She glanced at the time. “One hour and fifty-five minutes, Thomas. Do not let me down.”

“I’m on it, Ms. Simmons.”

She ended the call and met Deedra’s eyes. “Everything you know about your legislation.” She reached into her handbag, pulled out a pen, and pushed it across the table, then flipped over a pile of vet-care brochures scattered on the next table that had blank backs. “Write it down now.” And tapped them.

“I’m sorry, but who are you again?” Deedra looked as if she’d been hit by a speeding truck.

“I’m a lawyer who knows how to fix this.”

Cooper choked, looking astonished.

“I am also the deputy chief operating officer of Bartell Corporation,” Felicity finished. And this time, it finally sounded real.

Deedra, eyes wide, glanced at Cooper, then Felicity. Then she picked up the pen and began to write.

* * *

“How long have you known Cooper?” Felicity asked as she and Deedra made their way toward a makeshift stage area. According to Deedra’s estimate, the mayor would be here to do his publicity stunt speech in under five minutes.

“We met years ago, one of the many times she addressed the council demanding more rights for homeless people’s animals. She fought a good fight but lost on that issue.”

“Does she lose often?” Felicity asked.

“Truthfully?” Deedra’s lips quirked. “Quite often. She’s passionate and emotive about her animals, but that doesn’t sway lawmakers. She’s hopelessly disorganized, jumps from topic to topic, makes a big speech, but it’s all over the place. What’s needed is a cool, hard head, a legal mind who can shred arguments.” She eyed Felicity. “And that’s you, isn’t it? I looked you up while you were researching. You handle all legal issues from all over the world for Bartell Corp newspaper buyouts and mergers.”

“I used to until recently.” Felicity said. And for the first time in a long time, she decided not to hide how proud that made her. “My strength is in finding loopholes, hidden information, seeing what the other side is hiding. The mayor won’t know what’s hit him.”

“I hope so. But why are you helping Living Ruff? What have they got to do with you or your corporation?”

“I’m spending a few days determining whether a donation is a good idea or not for my boss.”

“You suspect it might not be?” Deedra sounded incredulous.

“I like to form conclusions based on facts I’ve obtained personally. Why is that surprising?”

“I thought it was common knowledge that Living Ruff is gold star. They’re one of the best charities our council deals with.”

“And Harvey Clifford?”

“Boring, by the book, never puts a foot wrong, as far as I know.”

“Hmm.” Felicity said. His cagey mention of some vague new program was still stuck in her head. “We’ll see.”

They neared the stage just as Mayor Browning was taking the microphone. He launched into a monologue, talking up the Pets in the Park open day initiative as if it had been his idea.

“Blowhard,” Deedra murmured. “He’s even worse when there’re no cameras around.”

“Most men in power are,” Felicity noted. “Trust me. I’ve met them all.”

“I’ll bet you have.” Deedra smiled. “All right. I’m going to make myself scarce.”

“Where are you going?” Felicity asked in surprise.

“You forget I still have to work with that man. I’d rather he didn’t know I was your co-conspirator. Good luck. Oh, and hey, don’t mess with Cooper, okay? She has a soft heart.”

“I—what? Excuse me?”

“I said what I said.” Deedra glanced around, caution in her eyes. “Look, it isn’t common knowledge and I’d like to keep it that way, but we dated a few years ago. We worked out we’re better as friends. I’m naturally protective of her, and you are her type.”

“What type is that?”

“She does appreciate career-driven bossy types who get shit done.” Deedra winked. “No wonder she liked my bad ass. But all I’m saying is, don’t be a bitch to her, okay? I mean, I’m guessing you’re straight. Either way, shoot her down gently if it comes to that.”

Felicity blinked. Okay, she had to process all of this later. In detail. Because Felicity was sure there was no way Cooper would ever look at her romantically. But right now the mayor was asking if there were any more questions from the media.

Deedra was gone by the time the man’s gaze scanned the reporters huddled in front of him.

The media had already run out of questions, which wasn’t surprising since they weren’t looking terribly interested in the photo op. Why would they be? Following a blowhard but boring mayor around on his campaign stops had to be a special form of torture for political reporters seeking real news.

Felicity edged into the media pack and lifted her hand. “Mayor, what’s the status on the legislation to allow homeless people to keep their pets when going into a shelter or an addiction-treatment facility? At the moment, isn’t it a case of them having to give up their pets in most situations?”

Browning swung to look at her. “Sadly, it’s a fact of life that we just don’t have the money or enormous resources required to cater to every homeless person and all their animals. Something’s got to give. And it’s a shame, but the sums just don’t work.”

“So you are planning on vetoing the legislation when it crosses your desk?”

“I’m sorry, who—”

“Bills 1483 and 1484.”

“—are you?”

“Felicity Simmons.”

“Which media company did you say you were from?”

“I didn’t.” She glanced at the assembled media, who looked suddenly more awake, now that their boring assignment had taken a controversial turn. “It seems there’s some interest in you answering the question.”

“Those bills aren’t on my desk yet, so it’s just a hypothetical.” His tone was glib. “And I don’t engage in speculation.”

“They could be on your desk tomorrow,” Felicity said. “The council members are stalling because they think you’ll veto it. So will you?”

“I make no apologies for doing what’s right for this city.” He leaned over the lectern. “Oh, it’s a lovely thought: everyone keeps their animals, and into the treatment centers and shelters they go. But what if their animal caused a problem? It’d be unworkable. Any lawyer could tell you the potential risk, both physical and financial, we’d be exposed to if a dog turned out to be dangerous.”

“Well, I’m a lawyer. And you’re right, I can tell you the risk. Of the eighty thousand homeless in New York, four thousand live on the street. At any given time, up to twenty-five percent of those people keep a pet. So we’re now talking about a thousand people and a thousand pets. You refer to risks from dogs. If we assume eighty percent of homeless people’s pets on the street are dogs, a high estimate, by the way, then we’re now down to eight hundred people and eight hundred dogs. Are you with me so far?” She offered him a glittery smile that just dared him to challenge her.

Browning snorted. “If you don’t think eight hundred potentially dangerous dogs in shelters couldn’t wreak havoc…” He gave a smug smirk. “Listen to her.” He glanced at the attentive media. “She thinks just because they’re homeless people’s pets they’ll all magically behave.”

“I said no such thing.” Felicity straightened. Time to crush him. “There are six hundred thousand dogs in New York. Last year there were reports of five thousand incidents of bites. Not all serious, of course, and some might be one dog biting multiple people, but for ease of simplicity, let’s say that’s five thousand dogs that bite. That translates to one in every one hundred twenty dogs being a danger to others. Which means for our eight hundred dogs owned by homeless people, we’re talking 6.67 dogs that might be a danger.” She lifted her voice. “Mayor, you want to veto all homeless people bringing animals into shelters or treatment clinics on the off chance that seven dogs might be an issue. Seven.”