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.
Could this be any more humiliating? Finally, she extracted the sticky kitty, who emitted a disgruntled mew as it left its warm nest and was deposited hastily on the floor.
Right, then. There was no way Felicity was going to look at Cooper, so she bent her head and scampered the hell out of there before it could become any more awkward.
Cooper said not a single word as Felicity flew past.
CHAPTER 7
It’s Not a Date
Felicity found herself strangely nervous, though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. It wasn’t as if this was a date. It was just a celebration between two professionals over dinner. Nothing to see here.
Except there was something to see. Cooper, out of her usual outfit of jeans and flannel, was sitting at a table wearing a beautiful black lapelless fitted blazer and a crisp white linen shirt. Felicity couldn’t see the pants yet as she joined Cooper, but if they matched that sleek blazer, Felicity was pretty sure there’d be some internal swooning in her future. Which flew firmly in the face of her plans to tell her hormones to cease and desist.
The restaurant was called Full Moon Pizza, established 1976 in the Bronx’s Little Italy. While the big, unsubtle redbrick construct didn’t seem like Felicity’s kind of place, she was learning lately that looks could be deceiving.
Her nose twitched in delight at the tomato and pesto smells emanating from the kitchen, and she smiled at Cooper. “Oh, that does smell good,” she said as she sat. “Hi.”
“Hi right back. And what were you expecting?” Cooper grinned. “I’d whisk you off to a bowling alley and feed you hot dogs?”
“Absolutely,” Felicity said with feeling. “I never know what to expect from you, so that’s as likely as anything.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure if I was just insulted or not.”
“Being unpredictable is not an insult,” Felicity suggested.
“Oh, I bet it is to you. I bet you love everything ordered and at your fingertips and oh-so-carefully planned in advance.” Cooper smiled wide, her white teeth dazzling against her tan skin.
Felicity was suddenly only too aware of Cooper’s three open shirt buttons that promised a hint of cleavage if she were to angle herself forward even slightly. Instead, she leaned back and said, “If that were true, how do you explain the press conference I torpedoed today?”
“I’d call that all in a day’s work for you—being prepared and knowing your stuff. You know, today I saw you become someone else. You reminded me of a big cat stalking in the grass, waiting for the mayor to expose his jugular. I could almost see you wiggling your butt with your tail swishing, anticipating. And then attack!” Her hand made a swishing, clawing motion.
“How bloodthirsty.” Felicity cocked an eyebrow. “Except I didn’t become someone else; that’s just who I am all the time. I’m always expecting to use my skills at a moment’s notice, so I’m metaphorically crouched and ready. Well—”
She stopped as a waiter appeared to fill up their water glasses and take their drink orders. After he left, Felicity continued. “Except when I’m with you. Then I’m just…” She faded out, trying to think of how to explain the extraordinary feeling of being so wrong-footed so often. When was the last time she’d ever felt like that?
“Out of your depth and wondering why you agreed to this assignment?” Cooper’s eyes danced.
“Something like that. Although I’d never admit to being out of my depth. Show no weakness is a motto to live by.” She took a sip of water.
