Felicity’s throat tightened as she realized how vulnerable she sounded. She stiffened her spine.
“I really am sorry,” Cooper repeated, eyes pleading.
Their meals were delivered. Felicity waited for the waiter to leave before speaking again. “I’m excellent at my job, I’ll have you know. I’m the second-highest executive in my entire international company! Me! And I did that despite coming from some backwater town in Michigan, and without any help from my stupefyingly unambitious mother and sister, who lower their sights at every opportunity, or from my impossible-to-please father.”
She hissed out the last words, venom embedded deep, then stopped suddenly, her heart thudding at the reminder of what had happened. Packing her bags and heading to college. Then once she had her new law degree, tracking her father down to show him her “worthy” size-zero shape and perfect dress style.
Her father had taken one look at her and mocked her accent—something about not being able to take the Midwest out of the girl. Then he’d looked past her shoulder as he asked whether she needed money. He’d been all business. Perfectly polite.
Everything about Robert J. Simmons was business. He’d dismissed her and all her efforts to be worthy, to impress him, before she’d had a chance to explain she was there for him. For them. To start over.
That casual dismissal had burned and burned. Naturally, she’d taken it as a sign she wasn’t enough—well, not yet.
So she’d worked harder. Felicity had made it her mission to become partner in her new law firm by age thirty. It became her mantra.
And…she’d failed. But then Elena had offered her a job as chief of staff. The oddest thing was, after working with Elena for a few months, she no longer fixated on what her father thought of her. She’d even stopped envisioning the day he’d meet her for lunch and profess pride in her accomplishments. She’d gotten over her touchiest of issues. Or so she thought.
Then she’d received a call from the waiflike Tiffany.
“He’s dead,” the woman said bluntly. “Your father. I thought you should know.”
The words ricocheted around her body, slicing through her heart. Now she’d never know if she’d measured up. Felicity had felt sick at the thought. “How?” was all she managed to croak out. “How did he die?”
“Heart attack. While fucking his mistress.”
Oh. What could she say to that?
“There’s a few things of his you might want. I mean, I don’t want them. I’ll make up a box. Send it over.”
“Was he happy?” Felicity asked. “With life?”
“He had a smile on his face when he died, if that’s what you mean,” Tiffany said bitterly. “By the way, I’ve seen the will. You’re not in it. No one is. He’s giving it all to some business institute. A scholarship program for up-and-coming wolves of Wall Street.” Her short laugh was empty and cold. “That sly bastard. Fuck him. Sorry, Felicity.” Then she hung up.
The box Tiffany sent over contained his CD collection, stubs from a couple of concerts he’d attended, and all his business certificates, awards, and degrees. A huge stack of them. That was his legacy.
As Felicity stared at it, she knew two things. She was just like him and she didn’t know how to be anything else. The oddest thing about that day was wondering if she should want to be any different.
The memory faded, crumpling inside her like a ball of paper. She looked up at Cooper. “I’ll thank you not to sneer at me for how I navigated my circumstances or make ill-founded assumptions. You have no right to do that. None.”
“I know. You’re right,” Cooper said quietly.
Felicity wondered why even now thoughts of her father could set her off so easily. How even brushing against those memories caused so much pain. It was ridiculous the way she’d once worshipped the man. He hadn’t exactly been father of the year.
Suck it up. He’d said that to her once when she was at her lowest. When she was so young.
And she had sucked it up. She’d kept sucking it up. No one touched her—not deep enough that they might cause real hurt. Her father had shown her how to harden her heart to stay safe from such painful distractions. Perhaps he’d been good for something after all.
“Look, I don’t avoid having pets because I see them as baggage or too uncool or needy,” Felicity said crossly. “That has nothing to do with anything.”
“Okay.” Cooper said, biting her lip. “I would appreciate it if you could explain, though. I promise not to judge or make assumptions.” She sounded so sincere.
Felicity blew out a breath. “I had a cat once when I was a child. She was ginger and fearless and utterly beautiful.” She played with the stem of her wineglass as her thoughts drifted to a vision of the affectionate pet. “I told her all my little secrets. We were inseparable. I adored her.”
“She sounds wonderful. What was her name?”
“We called her Brave because when I was a toddler, our biggest dog accidentally knocked me over, and Brave rushed in to get between the dog and me, hissing until he bolted. But one day Brave got sick, and my parents decided she should be put to sleep.” Felicity’s heart started to pound.
“That’s so sad. But it can be a kindness—”
“No!” Felicity’s cry startled them both. “I mean, it didn’t feel like a kindness to me, but I was so young.” She ground her jaw. “Afterward, all I did was cry for days and days.”
Suck it up.
“Oh, that’s so sad.”
“My father said I wasn’t emotionally strong enough for a pet, given how I’d fallen apart. And I guess he was right. The problem is, I get so attached.”
Cooper regarded her in silence, understanding crossing her face. She reached for Felicity’s hand and squeezed it.
“I know, it’s a bit silly,” Felicity said, feeling embarrassed. “Me, a grown woman, too scared to take on an animal for fear of how I’ll be if anything happens to them. But I vividly remember losing Brave. That was so traumatic and life changing, I’d rather not go through that again. Ever. At the time, I was very hard to live with, crying and carrying on for so long. I’m not surprised my father left not long after.”
Cooper’s eyes radiated concern. “You must know that’s not why he left.”
“Well, obviously, as an adult, I’m aware that while I didn’t make life enjoyable for my family, the main reason Dad left was that thin, hot secretary.”
Cooper’s hand squeezed Felicity’s again. “And now you avoid being around animals? Because they’re linked to so much loss? Not just losing Brave but your dad, too?”
“I am fine with animals if they keep their distance, but as fate would have it, I’ve been around more of them this week than I have since I was a child. The truth is, I’m a sucker for them. All animals. Small ones, big ones, hairy ones, ugly ones. I just— God, I want to hold them all.” Felicity met Cooper’s eyes, then she looked away. “But I’m not strong enough to go through having a pet again. I have no clue how you do it day in, day out, befriending them left and right and then losing them. Like Lucille, that beautiful old cat who ever-so-gently pushed your hand away when you were examining her stomach? She was just too precious… I don’t want her to die.”
