“Text?” He snorted. “How do you reckon I’d be doin’ that without a phone?”

Oh right. Good question.

Which was how, an hour later, Felicity was heading back into work, having bought Mitch a new phone and an ample amount of credit. She’d already received a text from him.

This phone is lit. Got all sortz of shit on it. Mrs B says I can rechage it @ her office. Also she told me to tell u ur all right. - Mitch-man

She smiled at his sign-off name. A tendril of warmth curled in her belly. If the phone helped him get a job, even better. She tried not to notice how good it felt to make someone happy so easily. Even if Felicity didn’t have the first clue as to attaining it herself.

* * *

A text arrived from Mitch at seven thirty the next morning. Felicity was just logging on at work when it landed.

Yo, spoke to Coop. She say she cant think of any one shed want to hav dinnr with

Oh. Well, that hurt.

Then she say but if food just appeard 2day she wuldnt say no to it coz she doing a 16 hr shift coz doc gabe is off sik

Sixteen hours? That was disgraceful. Surely there were other options than making one person work a double shift. She’d have to talk to Mrs. Brooks about— No. It wasn’t her place to meddle.

Her phone pinged again.

Said she mite look favarbly on persn who made it happn

Favorably? A slow smile curled Felicity’s lips. Well now, that sounded promising. She texted him back.

Submit all her favorite restaurants now please, Mitch.

Over the next five minutes, a list of a dozen names tumbled into her phone, some with questionable spelling that required decoding. Felicity set up a spreadsheet, consulted opening times and menus, and examined her options. Sixteen hours was indeed a long shift—what time had Cooper started? That being the case, she should break the period up with more than one arrival of food to ensure Cooper was well-fed.

But which restaurant? Mitch had proved useless at telling her what Cooper’s absolute favorite was, but he did know some of her favorite dishes. In the end, she did what anyone overwhelmed by too much choice and not enough information would do: she chose them all.

Nine of the restaurants offered deliveries, so she staggered those throughout the sixteen hours. The three that did not, she phoned in and paid for orders at set times, then enlisted Mitch to pick up the dishes and bring them into the office. So no matter the time, from ten in the morning today onwards, there would be plenty of food options for the overworked Cooper to choose from.

With that sorted to her satisfaction, Felicity tossed her phone into her drawer and headed into her next round of meetings involving Bowen Press, a small press with seven community newspapers that offered remote regional advertising monopolies.

* * *

By nine that evening, she’d finally finished every last scrap of paperwork and had sealed a deal with Bowen Press.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since the boardroom lunch tray of sandwiches. She hadn’t had a chance to learn of Cooper’s approval over the movable feast she’d sent her way, either.

Felicity turned on her phone. The screen was filled with missed calls and messages. Alarm flooded her. A lot were texts from Mitch. One call from Cooper. And a number of messages left by Mrs. Brooks. The general theme seemed to be ENOUGH ALREADY.

Uh-oh.

With hands shaking, she called Cooper. “Um, hi, it’s…”

“Ah yes.” Cooper’s voice was dry. “My generous food provider. I know you think I eat a lot, but that was insane. Do you know I had to abandon my work today to handle the piles of food that kept coming and coming? We ended up running an impromptu soup kitchen from Living Ruff’s front steps to get rid of all the food. That took ages. We had hangers-on who wanted to chat, and then there was the clean-up. You’re on Mrs. B’s shit list. Which you probably know by now, if you’ve listened to her messages.”

“Oh, my God.” Felicity cringed. “I’m so sorry.”

“If you’d listened to what I asked for, you’d have heard me request a—singular—meal. But you don’t seem to listen to my wishes, do you?”

“I just couldn’t decide what to get you, and so I—”

“More money than sense? Is that what this is?” Cooper sighed.

“I’m trying here.” Felicity scowled.

“Then stop. Please.” Cooper paused. “It was obvious from your apology letter that you really have no clue how to do this. And I’m not sure I want to be caught in the next avalanche as you try to figure it all out. So…please. We’re too different. We shouldn’t be dating.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Come on. I’ve said it all along: you’re the uptown girl. How long before you get tired of dating a lowly vet who doesn’t fit in your world and leave anyway? So why not do us both a favor and walk away now?”

“Because you’re kind!” Felicity hadn’t meant to say that. But in for a penny— “I mean, I don’t date kind. I never have. You’re the first. I only ever date lawyers who are just like me.”

Like Phillip. The fact that she’d once thought he might be the one was galling now. She pushed on. “And now that I’ve had a taste of how it feels to be around someone like you, that’s what I want.”

Felicity suddenly thought of Harvey and Rosalind, how his gentleness and warmth was a perfect foil for all the demands everyone put on her. He energized her. But it was more than that. Felicity just hadn’t fully understood what she was seeing that day.

Hell, Cooper had already given her the answer twice now, spelled it out for her, and still Felicity hadn’t seen. Kind people were safe places to relax into. They were…home. And Felicity hadn’t had kindness or a sense of home for so long that she didn’t know how much they mattered. Cooper had shown her that they did. Now it was all she could think about.

“I love your kindness,” Felicity went on. “And your compassion. Being with you for even a week made me see the world with new eyes.”

“I shouldn’t have to be your white knight, Felicity,” Cooper said, sounding tired. “The savior dragging you around so you open your eyes to the world.”