Running Late! In three frantic minutes, she dashed into the bathroom, slapped on some makeup, threw on her coat and boots, and bolted for the lift.
Emily jolted awakealready late! With the speed of a woman possessed, she managed to pull herself together: swiping on mascara while half-jogging to the door, giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror, and yanking on a trench coat and ankle boots. Three minutes after opening her eyes, she was already in the elevator.
Out on the street, she realised a fine September drizzle was falling, but there was no time to sprint back for an umbrella. Her alarm had betrayed her. Emily raced for the bus, the thought of missing work sending a chill down her spine. Her boss was notoriously inflexibleone tardy mark counted as a full absent day, with the added thrill of possibly getting sacked.
Mentally bidding farewell to her favourite clients, her bonus, and her last remaining holiday day, Emily braced for disaster. The pavement was a sea of equally harried Londoners, each lost in their own little worlds of deadlines and delayed tubes. Grey, drizzly, and miserableperfect.
Just metres from the bus stop, Emily skidded to a halt, spotting a sodden kitten huddled near a weathered park bench. It let out a feeble mewl, barely audible over the rain.
Emily hesitated. Bolt for the bus or help the poor, drenched creature? She chose kindness, knowing full well shed face her bosss wrath either way.
Up close, she noticed the kittens paw was bent at an odd angle.
“Good grief! What happened to you?”
Any doubts vanished. The little thing was shivering, soaked to the bone. Wrapping it carefully in her scarf, Emily sprintednow even fastertoward the bus. Shed smuggle it into the office and figure things out later. Her soft heart wouldnt let her leave the poor mite behind.
Her stealth mission failed spectacularly. Just steps from her desk, she collided with her boss in the corridor.
“Harrington! An hour late! Whats the excuse this time? Whos meant to cover for you, eh?”
The questions came rapid-fire. Trembling, Emily felt tears pricking her eyesuntil she unbuttoned her coat slightly.
The kitten poked its tiny, pitiful face out, letting out a weak meow.
“Its paws hurtI couldnt leave it in the rain”
Her voice wobbled, hands shaking as she braced for the axe to fall. But thena miracle. Her boss pulled out his phone, scribbled an address on a scrap of paper, and barked, “Go. Now. Fix that paw.”
Stunned, Emily pocketed the note, tucked her freezing hands away, and turned to leave.
“And dont come back,” he added.
Her heart sankuntil he finished:
“Todays your day off. Tomorrow too. And expect a bonus for that bleeding heart of yours.”
This bossEdward Cunninghamwas infamous for his iron-clad reputation. But at the vets, things moved quickly: the kittens paw wasnt broken, just badly sprained. As the vet bandaged it, Emily spilled the story, including Edwards unexpected kindness.
Laughing, the vet revealed hed known Edward since they were boyshed always been an animal hero, rescuing puppies from ponds and standing up for strays. Even now, he quietly funded shelters with his own money, something hed started with his first paycheque.
With people, though? Edward had always been distant, especially after losing his family. The revelation stuck with Emily, leaving her thinking of him long after shed left.
That evening, as the kittennow dubbed Puddingcurled up on her bed, Emily busied herself arranging a cosy corner for her new friend. Thenher phone rang.
Edwards voice: “Hows our little patient?”
Blushing, Emily gushed about Puddings recovery and thanked him profusely. Before she knew it, hed invited her to dinner, and they talked well into the night.
What brought them together? Mutual understandingand a shared love for creatures in need. Together, they doted on Pudding, and soon, their little rescue missions became a regular thing. For Emily and her fluffy new flatmate, loneliness was a thing of the past.
