Cooper seemed to weigh up her answer for sincerity. “And I especially expect you not to comment on all the ways you’d fix their lives if it were you. That’s a temptation far too many people have the first time they interact with homeless.”
Felicity tilted her head. “I can…observe.”
“In silence?”
“Yes.” How ridiculous.
“Good.” Cooper reached into her pocket and extracted a rubber band with which she corralled her shoulder-length blonde hair into a rough ponytail. “Okay, let’s go.” She paused and turned to the receptionist. “Mrs. B, I’ll be back in a few hours.” She clicked her tongue, and Brittany shot to her ankle.
Wait, the floppy excuse for a dog was coming? Felicity sighed. Lovely.
“See you soon,” Mrs. Brooks said. “Oh, and good luck, Ms. Simmons.”
Luck? Was she going to need luck here? Why did Mrs. Brooks sound amused? Felicity swallowed nervously, then followed Cooper to the stairs. And for the second time that day, she found herself in the rather pleasant position of following the shapely ass of Dr. Sandy Cooper. This time, though, her worried mind was fixed on what else lay ahead.
Well. Mostly.
CHAPTER 3
On the Road
The first thing Felicity noticed about Cooper’s vehicle as she strapped herself in was the smell. The van reeked of pet food and animals and something else she couldn’t quite place. Decay? Her nose wrinkled.
“I suppose that’s an occupational hazard,” Felicity said as Cooper slid in beside her.
“What is?”
“The smell.”
Cooper put on the radio…some thumpy country music that made Felicity shudder.
Brittany launched herself from the ground outside the van into Cooper’s lap, then, tail wagging from side to side like a windshield wiper, squeezed between the two front seats to take position right behind them in some sort of dog hammock seat that put her at close human level.
The dog’s warm breath was now against her ear. Felicity drew in a calming gulp of air. Right. She’d just ignore that along with the smell.
Then Brittany lay her muzzle on Felicity’s shoulder.
Cooper shot her a surprised glance. “Well, that’s different. Brittany doesn’t warm to anyone new. And in answer to your earlier comment, I can’t smell anything. I’m immune.”
Felicity inched away from Hairy Houndini until the dog took the hint and flopped her muzzle on Cooper’s shoulder instead.
“So fickle, girl.” Cooper laughed and started the engine.
“Can you change the station, please?” Felicity asked as the music twanged through another chorus.
“Not a fan of Billy Ray Cyrus?”
“Is anyone?” Felicity asked. “Breaky isn’t even a word.”
Cooper smiled. “That radio station’s Gabe’s favorite. He’s another vet who works with us. Feel free to pick something else.”
Felicity leaned over and turned it off. “I choose silence.”
“Tough crowd.” Cooper shrugged. “So out of interest, have you ever had much to do with homeless before?”
“No. I don’t think that’s much of a problem where I live.”
Cooper snorted. “If you live in New York, it’s always a problem, no matter where you are. You just haven’t noticed.”
Felicity shook her head. “No, I—”
“Excuse me. Who is the expert on the subject in this vehicle?” Cooper asked. Her tone was light, but she fixed Felicity with a penetrating gaze.
“Well.” Yes, quite right. “You.”
“Good. Can you remember that today? And maybe remember the fact that most people are only two paychecks away from homelessness.”
What a depressing thought.
Cooper’s gaze raked Felicity’s outfit once again. “Well, in your case, maybe ten, although that also depends on the size of your rent.” She paused and added in a slightly taunting tone, “Or is it mortgage?”
Felicity didn’t bite.
“So,” Cooper barreled on, “while I’ve asked you to be quiet and listen, if you decide to ignore me, and you do seem the type”—her lips quirked—“don’t ask anyone why they’re homeless. It can happen for any number of reasons, and it’s none of your business.”
“I wouldn’t.” Felicity had no plans to talk to them anyway. “I’m not interested.”
Cooper’s eyes went hard. “I see.”
