“Me unable to tell someone their dog is nice and sound sincere?” Felicity suggested.

“Exactly.” Cooper chuckled. “You brilliant woman! Do you know how long we’ve all been advocating for this? The pet issue is half the reason we have so many homeless on the streets. This is a game changer!”

“Believe it or not, I was actually paying attention to all your little rants.”

“Rants?” Cooper’s hand thudded over her heart. “Is that how I sound to you? All…ranty?”

Felicity’s lips curled.

Cooper laughed and wagged a finger at her. “I’d buy you a beer right now, if I wasn’t on the clock. But tonight I’m taking you out to dinner to celebrate. No arguments; it’s happening. Okay?”

Go out with an Amazon who was looking at Felicity as if she were a god? “Fine. But wine. Not beer.”

“Whatever you want, my liege!” Cooper did an exaggerated bow, then laughed and headed back toward the Living Ruff tent.

Felicity watched her go, admiring the sway of her powerful ass and legs—and her mouth was dry again. Her phone beeped in her pocket.

She gulped when she read the name on the text. Elena.

Apparently I have a long-held view that pets and owners should not be parted? - E

She swallowed hard and tried to think what to say. Sorry for using your name in vain? No, fuck it. Deputy COOs don’t apologize for taking a stance, even one using their boss’s name. Instead, she wrote:

Are you saying you don’t think that? :)

Okay, the smiley face might have been a little unprofessional. A lot unprofessional. She held her breath. Then wished she could retract the whole message.

No. - E

Relief coursed through her. That was not an admonishment. It wasn’t anything negative. It counted as enthusiastic support, if you knew Elena Bartell. Well, today was definitely looking up. Her heart did an excited little thump. And if she was being entirely honest, it was not all to do with her boss’s approval.

* * *

While Cooper went back to assessing animal health, Felicity wandered from tent to tent, seeing everything she’d missed earlier while researching how to beat the mayor.

A meowing sound attracted her attention, and she poked her head in a nearby tent.

Oh!

A harried-looking woman was attempting to write up some notes while young cats crawled all over her. It was ridiculously adorable, and Felicity had to fight her natural instinct to squeal and say “aww.” Instead, she firmed her jaw hard and said, “Did you hit a cat Xerox machine? Exploded twenty copies?”

The woman looked up with a wry smile. “Almost. A client with a momma cat brought in all its kittens. She tried but can’t care for them. I’m writing up a report, and they’ll go to a no-kill shelter. It’s hard to type with a cat trying to lick the Enter key and another leapfrogging the screen. And as you can see, the animal crate I have is full already.” She waved to a cage containing a ferocious-looking mutt. “Hey, if you have a spare fifteen minutes, could you distract them for me while I finish up?”

I’d love to, Felicity almost said. But that was far too needy. “Certainly,” she said instead. “I’ll corral them on the floor.”

“Good idea. I think that one’s close to eating printer paper.” She nudged a spotted black and white cat away.

Felicity scooped the kittens up and gathered them in her lap. What had happened to her that life kept hurling kitties at her lately? Was she cursed to forever encounter felines or something?

Well, whatever the reason, there were no witnesses to hold her cute-animal weakness against her so, she decided to indulge herself just this once.

She gave each cat a long scratch as she mentally named them to keep them straight in her head. Within moments, they were crawling all over her: in her hair, down her shirt, in one pocket.

Felicity was in seventh heaven. She might have even cooed. Just a little.

Fifteen minutes flew by, and Felicity found herself laughing at their antics while the harried form filler shot her occasional amused looks.

“I see I chose well,” the woman murmured. “You’re a natural. I’d have lost three of them by now if you hadn’t stuck your head in.”

“I don’t mind,” Felicity said, glancing at her paperwork. “I’m all about assisting people in succeeding with business.”

“You’re here for me, not to play with the little kitties?” She chuckled. “Right.”

“Exactly,” Felicity said, keeping a straight face.

Suddenly Cooper stuck her head in. “There you are—finally! I was going to ask if you wanted a ride back to the office…” She petered out as she digested the scene before her.

Felicity was on the ground, a small cat in each hand and one halfway buried down her Vera Wang blouse. And several climbing over her legs and feet.

Cooper stared in astonishment.

Felicity’s cheeks felt like radiators, they were flaming so much. “I—” What could she say? It was a damning scene. “Er…”

Cooper stared some more. “You faker,” she whispered in wonder. “You adore animals!”

“Don’t be silly. I’m assisting this woman with her paperwork.”

The woman in question shot her an amused look. “Yes, indeed,” she drawled.

“And I’ll pass on the ride, thank you,” Felicity said stiffly. “I’ll see you tonight. You can text me the details. Mrs. Brooks has my phone number.”

She scrambled to her feet, shooing assorted kittens off her lap like a short, hairy waterfall.

That only left the one nose-diving into her bra. Felicity tried to pluck it out with as much dignity as she could manage—easier said than done when it applied claws in protest.

“Ow! Let go,” Felicity ordered with a grimace.