“All excellent. I’d tell you all about them, but I know you have no interest.” She sounded extra amused now. “But invite me to the wedding, and I’ll bring the whole brood so you can catch up.”

“There’ll be no wedding!” Felicity said in astonishment. “I haven’t even worked out how to date her yet. Or even if Cooper wants anything more to do with me!”

That made her heart clench just a little bit in ways Felicity detested.

“Ha.” Heather laughed. “Better get right onto that then. I’m sure you’ll work it out. Remember, it’s the personal touch she’s after. Gotta go. Love you!”

Felicity said something along the lines of “you, too” and the phone went dead. Well. That was illuminating. She glanced to her outer office. Now then… To find the snake in the grass. “Beatrice!”

The assistant scurried in, looking her usual cross between hapless and terrified. “Yes, Ms. Simmons?”

“I heard my flowers arrived,” she said silkily.

“Oh, that’s great.” Beatrice’s face brightened. “I insisted they get there fast. The man in the store was pretty rude saying it couldn’t be done, not for rare and exotic blooms, but don’t worry, I insisted and told him who you were and how important it was and that he had to drop everything to create your order.”

“I see.” Now it was all becoming clear. “Why do I get the feeling he suddenly agreed and hung up?”

Beatrice’s eyes went very wide. “How did you know?”

“Just a hunch.” She gave a cold smile. “Blacklist the company. His work was subpar.”

“Oh, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“Next, call Amir. I need to go to the South Bronx right away.”

“Um…now?” Beatrice glanced out at the darkening sky. Her voice dropped to a warning whisper. “There? At night?”

“Yes. I need to see a man who guards a company van after dark, so I can’t very well turn up in the daytime.”

“You do?” Beatrice ran a hand nervously along her starched skirt suit. “Maybe someone else could— I mean the South Bronx is just— It has a reputation.”

Was this how Felicity had sounded when Elena had first announced her assignment, too? Probably. No wonder Elena had looked so amused. In reality, Felicity hadn’t felt unsafe even once while she’d been embedded at Living Ruff. That probably had something to do with the fact that she’d had a sky-scraping Amazon at her side, but still. Fear hadn’t even entered her mind.

She stared at Beatrice pointedly.

Finally, the woman got a clue. “I’ll call Amir right away.”

“You do that. And tell Scott to put the report for Bowen Press at the top of the pile. I want to go over it ASAP.”

“Yes, Ms. Simmons.”

* * *

Felicity alighted at the front of Living Ruff, straightened her jacket, then approached Mitch.

He was leaning against the van having a smoke, hunched into his hoodie. She could see his lips drawing deeply on his cigarette beneath his thick black beard. Mitch eyed her approach with suspicion at first, then recognition.

“Well, hello,” he said. “Look who it is. Lady who comes wit’ her own driver.” He glanced over Felicity’s shoulder and squinted. “What year is she anyway?”

“What year is who?” Felicity asked.

“Your Merc E-class sedan, right?” He whistled low, impressed. “Fuck, I’d love me some fancy wheels like that.”

“Mitch.” Felicity drew his attention back to her.

His eyes focused on her again. “Coop’s not upstairs, if you’re looking for her.”

“What makes you think I was?”

“I’ve seen you followin’ her around a few weeks back, y’know. You kinda stick out ’round here.” He laughed. “Anyway, she’s gone home. ’Bout an hour ago.”

“Well, fine, but it’s you I’m after.”

“Me?” He eyed her in confusion. Then his eyes flicked back to the car. “This where you make some weird rich-lady sex proposition?”

“Excuse me?” Felicity’s eyes widened.

“I’ve heard ’em all. Fancy ladies lookin’ for some rough trade like the street boys never say no. Fuckin’ insultin’ is what it is—”

“Mitch!” Felicity said in exasperation. “I’m only in the business of recruiting an ally. Nothing…else.” She drew her mouth into a firm line.

“That so?” He studied her for a moment. “Okay then. What’re ya pitchin’?”

“Mrs. Brooks suggested you’d know Cooper’s tastes in eating out. As in you know where she goes and favorite foods and so on.”

“More than know.” He puffed up. “Sometimes I drive her when she knows she wants to have a few drinks. She trusts me with the van.” He gave the vehicle a proud thump. “And I know all the ways to avoid traffic. Fastest shortcuts. Bein’ a local helps.”

“Excellent.” Now they were getting somewhere. “So where does Cooper like to eat?”

“A whole bunch of places. Like German and Indian and Irish. Sometimes I-talian.” He pointed in various directions as he spoke.

“And her favorite?”

His brow puckered as he considered that. “Why do you want to know? And why not ask her yourself?”

“I’m planning to bring her a meal as a surprise.”

Mitch eyed her up and down. “And does Coop want to be gettin’ this surprise?” He tossed his cigarette butt to the concrete and ground it under a dirty boot. “I don’t want Coop getting herself some stalker.”

“A stalker!” Felicity glared at him. “You think I look like a stalker?”

“What? You think just ’cause you’re some rich blonde white chick you can’t horndog after someone who doesn’t want it? ’Sides, Coop’s had some trouble in the past with people hangin’ around her in a way she didn’t like. Sometimes people just don’t have it all connected right upstairs.” He tapped his head. “Coop’s mah friend, and I keep an eye out for her. That includes not assumin’ she wants anyone poundin’ on her door that she doesn’t know’s coming.”

Felicity had to appreciate the man’s loyalty. “I assure you she would like this surprise from me.” She injected every ounce of confidence she had and gave Mitch an imperious look to sell it.

“Tell ya what. I’ll ask Coop tomorrow if there’s anyone she’d want surprisin’ her with dinner, and we’ll take it from there.”

“Fine.” Felicity ground out. “I’ll give you my card. When she says yes, you can text me the details of her dining choices.”