“Oh…er…right.” Felicity fidgeted. Thank God.
“I’m also pleased to hear that you’ve worked out what matters in life.” Elena leaned back, her eyes twinkling. “And I won’t ask you to bring your vet to lunch today, either, because judging by your impressive blush and conflicted expression, it was considerably more than lunch that was promised to her.”
Felicity was pretty sure she was about to die of embarrassment. She rubbed her flaming cheeks. “God,” she squeaked.
“It’s fine. I understand—your girlfriend comes first. But next time you’re in Sydney—for the Australasian Legends of Publishing Ball, I believe—I’ll expect a raincheck on lunch. All right?” Elena’s eyebrow lifted. “I’m sure I can convince Madeleine to make an appearance, too. For old times’ sake.”
“Yes. Definitely.” Felicity exhaled. “I’d like that a lot. Really.”
Elena’s answering smile was one of her rare genuine ones that reached her eyes.
It was curious how Elena seemed to understand these things so well. Had she always been this astute about relationships? Felicity didn’t think so. But maybe Felicity really didn’t know her boss nearly as well as she thought. Maybe one day she would.
That thought filled her with warmth and satisfaction.
* * *
That night, Felicity snuggled up in bed with Cooper and a certain dog, because Brittany had apparently found out her mistress could, in fact, be manipulated through pining and pouting.
Felicity found she didn’t mind sharing her bed as she told Cooper about her conversation with her boss.
With her absent-minded fingers roaming Brittany’s beautiful fur, Felicity said, “Elena wondered if I was too heartless. Too lacking in compassion to run her empire.” She gave Cooper a worried look. “She feared for me. She’s one of the most fearless people in business today. And she was afraid I was too hard.”
“From what you’ve told me, she isn’t as hard as everyone thinks, not when you drill down. I’m wondering if all this time you’ve been projecting onto her your idea of what a successful COO looks like.”
“Perhaps,” Felicity conceded. “She was afraid she’d been a bad mentor, making me think I have to act a certain way. But her reputation is well-founded. I’ve seen her do some brutal but necessary things that cost communities their old newspapers because she could see no way to make a profit. She’d try a few options to see if she could save them, but the numbers weren’t there. So she asset stripped them, keeping only the best staff, which she put to work on her other mastheads. She does that, you know.”
Felicity was suddenly anxious Cooper would only see Elena as a ruthless corporate asshole. “She talent spots. That matters to her most: finding the right people for the right jobs, making all the pieces fit. It’s not just a bulldoze-everything deal.”
“Felicity, why do you care what I think of Elena? She’s going back to Sydney tomorrow. You’ll only see her a few times a year after this.”
“Because she’s one of a tiny handful of people in my life I deeply respect, and I want you to like her.”
Cooper regarded her with interest. “I’ve only ever heard you talk about Elena as worthy of this lofty praise. Who else do you respect?”
“Aside from you? My mom.” She frowned. “That…took a while. I kept seeing her through my father’s judgmental eyes, which shaded how I viewed her. And I honestly couldn’t understand her taking a lesser position than the one she had as a college professor. But I see now that she stepped down to take a charity job where she could shape young minds at an earlier age, really get kids into STEM, especially girls.”
“That’s admirable. So wait, your mom works for a charity, too? Which one?”
“She’s the executive director of Leslie Science & Nature Center at Ann Arbor.”
Silence fell.
“What?” Felicity asked.
“That’s a seriously well-respected organization. They do amazing work. But, Felicity, how the hell did you turn out to be a hard-assed lawyer and come from a mother up to her armpits in frogs and owls and trees?”
“Well, I leaned toward Dad, the lawyer. Heather, my sister, leaned toward Mom. She’s got such a fixation on plants and herbs. Her husband is totally into essential oils. So they’re all about feeding people’s souls.”
Cooper’s eyes brightened. “Your family sounds incredible. You must be so proud.”
A glib retort lurked on the edge of her tongue, but Felicity stopped it. She really thought about her family dispassionately without the lens of her father’s snobbery.
Heather was kind and warm and welcoming to everyone. She never said a bad word about anyone, not even their father after he’d left. And her mother had such a calm, clever countenance that Felicity had for so long overlooked for jokes about round Midwestern women who kept chickens and cats and dogs. Why? Because Felicity was a complete jerk, obviously. Eternally focused on the wrong things. Her family was wonderful.
“Yes,” she told Cooper earnestly. “I am proud. I should warn you, though: my family does come with Heather’s loud and enthusiastic rug rats.” Felicity winced at the reminder.
“You don’t like her kids?”
“Try any kids. Small, evil knee-cap assassins? No, I do not. Don’t get me wrong: I’d jump in front of a train for Heather’s pint-sized shriekers. Hell, I’d give them my kidney, if they needed it. But I don’t have to like the happy little monsters.”
“Aw, they sound like a wonderful handful. That’s okay, I’m awesome with kids; they love me. Wait’ll they get a load of Auntie Cooper. How many kids does she have?”
“Oh, who can keep count? Two or three?” Felicity threw up her hands. “Maybe four?”
Cooper stared at her in astonishment.
“What?”
“Good thing you’re cute. That’s all I’m saying. Look, I’m calling bullshit on you this time. I know you think pretending you don’t care about people or their lives is a way to show how career focused you are or whatever. But this is me. And it’s your family. Stop pretending you don’t give a shit and just tell me.”
“Three,” Felicity admitted, followed by a sheepish look. “And yes, fair point. I’ve been reassessing lately a lot of things I do without thinking. I should probably add this to my list.” She exhaled. “You know, Elena told me that in the office I pretty much only say brutal or awkward things.”
Cooper laughed. “Wow. You must be fun to work with.”
Felicity gave a tiny head shake. “She’s not entirely wrong, but I swear there’s a reason. It’s not just me disliking people. When I first started out in law, my firm was a bit less evolved than companies are now regarding women. They wanted to give me all the family cases. The soft stuff. I declined. They asked often about when I’d get married and were children in my future. They definitely saw women as weaker and assumed most weren’t serious or in it for the long haul. Me being from the Midwest made the assumptions even worse.”
“That’s unfair.”
