“Why do you look so shocked,” Cooper asked, “like I just gave you bad news?”
“I like knowing where I stand. I’m not good at fuzzy areas in life. It gives me indigestion.”
Cooper chuckled. “Ah. Well, we can’t have that. Let me distract you. Ordinarily, this is a task for a vet tech”—she glanced at Mrs. Brooks, who was on the phone—“but an earlier client dropped off something I will need some spare hands to deal with. Are you free?”
Felicity rose to her feet. “How can I help?”
“I need you to hold a particularly squirmy pair of kittens I’m deworming.”
“I—” Kittens? No, no, no! “Deworming?” Felicity pulled a dismayed face.
“You’ll survive.” Cooper grinned.
“Doubtful.” Felicity took a step back.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” Felicity shook her head hard. “I don’t want to touch kittens.”
“Allergies?” Cooper asked.
“No.”
“Phobias?”
Felicity scowled. “I’m not afraid of them.” Well, not exactly.
“Then you have no excuse not to make yourself useful. Let me get them from their cage. Will you please assist? I mean if it won’t wrinkle your doubtless very expensive threads.” Her eyes drifted appreciatively across Felicity’s designer wardrobe of green blouse, gray pants, and matching gray blazer, the latter of which now sat on the back of her chair.
Felicity sighed. Kittens.
* * *
“Here.” Cooper plopped a ginger floofball into Felicity’s left hand and a black kitten with enormous blue eyes in her right. “Stop them fleeing while I get the syringe primed.”
Felicity stared at the black cat, whose eyes threatened trouble. Sure enough, it leaped from her hand, up her arm, then bounced on her shoulder and flung itself at her blonde bun.
“Gahhh!” Felicity’s hand shot up to de-kitten her formerly impeccable hair.
It then leaped from her head, sailing off into the abyss. No! She reflexively jerked her hand out, which sent the second kitty flying.
Two kittens were airborne. Felicity tried desperately to catch them both but only came up with one: ginger. Which promptly tried to burrow up her loose blouse sleeve via her wrist. Now half a kitten stuck out of her sleeve, tail swishing dramatically, as Felicity spun around to look for the black kitten…only to find it in Cooper’s hand.
Her expression was incredulous. “Looking for this?” she asked. “Honestly, Felicity, you had one job. Hold two kittens.”
“I— They got away from me.” She tugged on ginger’s tail to extract it from her sleeve. Claws dug in. Ow! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Felicity’s eyes watered.
“Do you really hate animals so much that you can’t even hold two harmless little kittens for one whole minute?” Disappointment etched Cooper’s face.
Harmless? Tell that to her poor abused arm. “I keep telling you, I don’t hate them. I just don’t…react well to them. And it seems to be mutual.” Finally, she pulled the kitten clear from her sleeve and glowered at the squirmy thing that had left pucker marks all down her skin.
It reminded her of Loki. What was it with her and cute devil spawn?
“Well, I agree these kittens should be anywhere but in your custody.” Cooper rubbed her thumb under the black kitten’s ear, then scooped her into one arm.
That seemed a bit unfair, and Felicity deflated. She hadn’t made the cats go ballistic. They just had.
Cooper stroked the kitty’s whiskers back, eased open the jaw the tiniest amount with the same hand, and with her other injected liquid medication toward the back of its tongue. Then her holding hand closed the cat’s jaw, gently stroking its chin for about three seconds. “One down.” She gave the kitten a fond pat before returning it to the cage. She prepped a second syringe and looked at Felicity expectantly.
“Ginger, please?” Her eyebrow arched.
Felicity promptly deposited the animal onto the metal treatment table and backed off.
“It’s not a rattlesnake,” Cooper said as she repeated the process with the second kitten. Into the cage it went after a little pat. Cooper whipped off her gloves and tossed them in the trash. “Well, that’s how it’s done.”
Felicity nodded. “You’re good at this.”
“I’d like to think so after all this time. But our whole team gets the credit. It’s not just me keeping Living Ruff’s lights on. Gabe’s a whiz at handling difficult clients having mental health episodes. Harvey and his wife keep things ticking financially and the donations coming in. And then there’s Mrs. Brooks.” Her eyes turned fond. “That woman runs it all. Not just a vet tech or a receptionist or a PA. She looks after our day-to-day admin: accounts, spreadsheets, and finances. She has a gift for it.”
“So why’s she wasting it here?”
Cooper froze and turned to stare at her. “Wasting it?”
“I—” Oh, that hadn’t come out right.
“Wasting. It?”
“I mean, if she’s so good, she could get a job anywhere,” Felicity scrambled, not liking the dark look in Cooper’s eyes one bit. “Out of the charity sector. Private business. Earn her worth. Enjoy good perks.”
