“I just mean that I have one focus in life, and that’s my career. Anything else is irrelevant. I say they do them, I’ll do me, and we’ll get on fine.”
“Well, that’s convenient.”
“Why? You just told me not to interact with them, and now that I say I don’t want to, you’re pissed?”
Cooper shook her head in apparent exasperation. “I never said don’t interact with them. I said don’t judge them. Watch and listen. You can smile, make eye contact. Make them feel seen. Tell them your name.”
“Why would I do any of that?” Felicity asked, baffled. “I’m not planning on making friends, just seeing what you do.”
Cooper’s jaw tightened. “You don’t see a need to make a human connection because they’re not real people to you, are they? You don’t think of them as having lives and hopes and dreams just like you.”
Snorting, Felicity said, “That’s absurd. I don’t see a need to make a connection with anyone unless it’s career related. If that ever happens accidentally, well, it’s…unexpected, I suppose, and rare. But I don’t seek it out.”
There was a long silence as Cooper digested that, then she laughed. “You’re actually serious, aren’t you?”
“Very.”
“My God, how do you even get by in this world with that hands-off philosophy?”
Felicity shrugged. “It’s just how I am. I don’t see what the issue is. I’m truly uninterested in pretty much everyone. If I had my way, I’d never speak to anyone I’m not forced to deal with.”
Cooper’s brow puckered. “Are you shy? Or an introvert?”
“Neither.” Felicity met her gaze. “I’m simply focused. I’ve been like this since I was twelve. Now, are we ever going to get underway? Charming as this view of Ode to Concrete Park is.” She waved at their surroundings. “What are those weird tables for, anyway?” She squinted.
“They’re for dominoes, which are popular around here with the Hispanic community. You’ll see them full by the time we return.” Cooper paused. “Are you… Do you have empathy for others?” she asked cautiously.
Felicity sighed. “Of course. Yes, I dislike suffering, and I even cry at funerals. But is it truly inconceivable to you that some people don’t like getting into other people’s business at all? That I’m perfectly happy as a loner? I just don’t find being sociable uplifting. I truly do prefer my own company.”
“I’ve never met anyone like that before.” Cooper rested her hands on the steering wheel and looked at her. “Well, no one who’s just straight out admitted it.”
“Me, either,” Felicity said a little mournfully. “Society expects us to all be people who need people. They even sing songs about it. Well, I don’t and never have.” She eyed Cooper ruefully. “You know those questions where they ask who would you take to a desert island? I’d take no one but a good book, and I’d be perfectly happy. And honestly, if the book was very good, I’d even decline a rescue.”
“You know…I think I believe you.” Cooper let out a small chuckle.
It was such an attractive chuckle, much like the rest of the woman, but Felicity was determined not to be derailed further by surface distractions.
“Why would I lie?” Felicity eyed her.
Cooper snorted. “Good point. All right, can we get back to what I was saying about the clients? Maybe you could please make an effort to at least fake it? A few smiles? One hello?”
“I don’t fake anything,” Felicity said honestly, “not unless it’s absolutely essential for my job. This doesn’t sound essential to me.”
“Just great.” Cooper grumbled as she reversed onto the street. “All right, one last thing: don’t be offended if someone reacts badly to you. You don’t know what their week’s been like or what someone did to them just before they met you. If they’re rude, just apologize, move on, and don’t make a fuss.”
“I promise not to be offended if they say any unfortunate things.” Felicity flapped a hand. “Now is that it?”
“Yes.” Cooper sighed. “Call me crazy, but I’m guessing you didn’t volunteer for this assignment.” She put her foot down on the gas pedal.
The G force, minor though it was, pinned Felicity back in her seat for a hot minute.
Brittany gave a bark of excitement.
“Do you always drive so fast?” Felicity gasped. Was the universe mocking her for bemoaning Amir’s sedate driving? Surely it wasn’t too much to hope for a speed between placid and space-shuttle launch.
“I’ll add my driving to your list of does-not-approves. Along with the van’s music, smell, and our clients.” Cooper gave her a knowing look. “And we’re going fast because I’m late. If I don’t reach Webster Avenue early, my client will have been moved on.”
“Moved on?”
“Some police aren’t charitable about the homeless. They only see an irritation.”
Felicity considered that. “And what do you see?”
“Someone whose animal needs some food, love, and a checkup.” She smiled, and those dimples came out again. “I love Lucille. That’s the animal I’m hoping to visit today. Her owner usually visits a free shower service that runs around this time.” Cooper glanced at her watch. “I’ve got some concerns about a possible growth on Lucille, among other issues, so I’m looking more closely at the case.”
“Growth?”
“You don’t seriously want all the details?” Cooper’s gaze raked her up and down.
“I’m not some delicate petal.” Truly, Felicity wanted no details, but she didn’t appreciate being treated like she’d crumple.
“Aren’t you?” Cooper’s expression was challenging. “Tell me, Ms. Simmons, how much does that outfit you have on retail for?” Her lips quirked.
Felicity glared. None of her damned business.
“That’s what I thought. Look, if you’re back here tomorrow, invest in a pair of jeans, some boots, and a thick long-sleeve shirt at a minimum.”
“No, thank you. I’ll look like a trucker. A butch lesbian trucker,” Felicity sniped.
