“Oh wow.” Cooper’s shoulders relaxed. “I get it. Right. Ah, sorry if I was a little hostile before. I didn’t realize y’all were such great friends. Hey, if you speak to Maddie, could you tell her how grateful we are? Her story will keep us in the black for years.”

“So the other article about your imminent closure really is a lie?”

“As I said, it’s just a thing Harvey does once a year to get new donors on our list.” Cooper shrugged. “Talk to him about it if you want to put your mind to rest.”

“I will.” She glanced at her watch. “When’s he due in?”

Mrs. Brooks spoke up. “I texted him a few minutes ago to tell him you were here waiting for him, but he said he has some meetings. He suggested in his absence that you do a ride-along with Cooper to find out what we do here. He apologized that he can’t see you sooner.”

Felicity folded her arms. He’d heard she was here, a big potential donor, and had begged off to go to meetings? Was that likely? She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Mrs. Brooks spoke again. “He thought you’d find it far more informative to see firsthand what we do with Cooper before you and he sit down.”

That did make sense, but Felicity still felt a bit glad-handed. The thought of being forced to do meet and greets with the homeless and their animals hadn’t exactly been high on her to-do list today. She would, of course, cope. Felicity lifted her chin. “Well, it’s not as if I can do much else, is it?”

“I’ve never seen such enthusiasm for time in my company,” Cooper drawled. She grinned, and a matching pair of dimples appeared. “Well? Are you up for it?”

It suddenly occurred to her that these meet and greets with the homeless would also come with a lot of Sandy Cooper. That wasn’t unsettling in the least. Not at all. No siree. “Of course. I’m up for any challenge.” As long as she wasn’t expected to crawl under houses with the woman. She’d simply refuse that.

“You say that now,” Cooper teased, “but I do go to some unsavory places.”

Oh wait, was she expected to crawl under things? Worry snaked through her. Followed by horror. Then she remembered she didn’t work for Cooper and that “no” was a full sentence. “I’m sure you do,” she said neutrally.

Cooper’s eyes darted to her outfit. “I’d offer to loan you something more appropriate, but I don’t think we’re the same size.”

Felicity snorted. “An understatement.”

“So you can make do with what you have on. Now, just so you know, I expect you to follow my ground rules.”

“Which are?”

“I expect you to be polite to the clients—”

“The clients?”

“The homeless,” Cooper clarified. “I don’t want to hear any of the stuff you said earlier to me. About them being addicts. Yes, some are, obviously. Some have mental health issues. Some have PTSD. And some are just unlucky people, out of money or work, on hard times. The point is, I expect politeness and respect. Can you do that?”

“Of course.” Indignation rose. She could be diplomatic. She could!

Cooper seemed to weigh up her answer for sincerity. “And I especially expect you not to comment on all the ways you’d fix their lives if it were you. That’s a temptation far too many people have the first time they interact with homeless.”

Felicity tilted her head. “I can…observe.”

“In silence?”

“Yes.” How ridiculous.

“Good.” Cooper reached into her pocket and extracted a rubber band with which she corralled her shoulder-length blonde hair into a rough ponytail. “Okay, let’s go.” She paused and turned to the receptionist. “Mrs. B, I’ll be back in a few hours.” She clicked her tongue, and Brittany shot to her ankle.

Wait, the floppy excuse for a dog was coming? Felicity sighed. Lovely.

“See you soon,” Mrs. Brooks said. “Oh, and good luck, Ms. Simmons.”

Luck? Was she going to need luck here? Why did Mrs. Brooks sound amused? Felicity swallowed nervously, then followed Cooper to the stairs. And for the second time that day, she found herself in the rather pleasant position of following the shapely ass of Dr. Sandy Cooper. This time, though, her worried mind was fixed on what else lay ahead.

Well. Mostly.

CHAPTER 3

On the Road

The first thing Felicity noticed about Cooper’s vehicle as she strapped herself in was the smell. The van reeked of pet food and animals and something else she couldn’t quite place. Decay? Her nose wrinkled.

“I suppose that’s an occupational hazard,” Felicity said as Cooper slid in beside her.

“What is?”

“The smell.”

Cooper put on the radio…some thumpy country music that made Felicity shudder.

Brittany launched herself from the ground outside the van into Cooper’s lap, then, tail wagging from side to side like a windshield wiper, squeezed between the two front seats to take position right behind them in some sort of dog hammock seat that put her at close human level.

The dog’s warm breath was now against her ear. Felicity drew in a calming gulp of air. Right. She’d just ignore that along with the smell.

Then Brittany lay her muzzle on Felicity’s shoulder.

Cooper shot her a surprised glance. “Well, that’s different. Brittany doesn’t warm to anyone new. And in answer to your earlier comment, I can’t smell anything. I’m immune.”

Felicity inched away from Hairy Houndini until the dog took the hint and flopped her muzzle on Cooper’s shoulder instead.

“So fickle, girl.” Cooper laughed and started the engine.

“Can you change the station, please?” Felicity asked as the music twanged through another chorus.

“Not a fan of Billy Ray Cyrus?”

“Is anyone?” Felicity asked. “Breaky isn’t even a word.”

Cooper smiled. “That radio station’s Gabe’s favorite. He’s another vet who works with us. Feel free to pick something else.”

Felicity leaned over and turned it off. “I choose silence.”

“Tough crowd.” Cooper shrugged. “So out of interest, have you ever had much to do with homeless before?”

“No. I don’t think that’s much of a problem where I live.”

Cooper snorted. “If you live in New York, it’s always a problem, no matter where you are. You just haven’t noticed.”