Page 2 of Rescued Love

As he rubs his fingers through his salt and pepper hair and leans back into his chair, his shoulders slump. Ah, fuck, that does not bode well for me. It’s a fight to keep the impassive façade in place, but I manage it. Barely.

Even with the slightly defeated body language, Nigel’s eyes are focused and far too fucking keen for my liking. “I have heard rumblings,” he finally shares like there isn’t more than one way to interpret his words. Dealing with lawyers is sometimes annoying, and I am a lawyer. “Marcus has come to the partners and expressed concerns,” he finally drops the bomb, the real reason why he’s come to my office today.

“Concerns?” I narrow my eyes, unsure if I want to sit through this impromptu meeting or go and corner Marcus somewhere, which wouldn’t be a good idea at all. It’s damn tempting though. “What kind of concerns?”

Nigel leans forward slightly, clasping his hands together on his lap and piercing me with a look telling me he’s not buying my bullshit. Well, it was worth a try.

“You know exactly want concerns Marcus has brought to us,” there’s a tired edge in Nigel’s voice I normally don’t hear. “I’m not sure which I’m more disappointed in—that you seem to be struggling with this case or that you allowed Marcus to get ammunition against you.”

My eyebrows shoot up, the bluntness of Nigel’s words surprising me so much that I’m unable to hide my reaction tothem. He lets out a chuckle, but there’s no real amusement in the sound. With a wave of his hand, he dismisses my surprise.

“You two have been in competition since before you started your internship. It’s clear as day and whatever you have against this case is showing him weakness.” His eyes narrow slightly, “You don’t want to show weakness to a man like Marcus.”

I let out a woosh of breath and sag backwards into my chair. I’ve known Nigel since the day I started at the firm, but there has always been a professional wall between us. We aren’t friends and this is just another reminder.

I knew he had my back and wanted me to succeed, but there’s always been a divide. He was the partner. I was the lawyer learning under his tutelage. That’s the way it’s been, and I was more than okay with it.

Somehow, this feels like he’s letting me behind the wall a little bit. I’m not sure how I feel about it.

“Nigel,” my voice is hesitant as I let some of my mask slip and run a hand over my face, “what are you trying to say? Just lay it out for me plainly because I just don’t have the energy to decipher riddles today.”

Nigel has never been the kind of man who would put the right tool in my hand, and then manhandle me to show me how to use it. He would rather I figure out which tool is needed and how to wield it while he supervises and nudges me subtly. Normally, I don’t mind, but I’ve just had enough today.

Honestly, I feel fried.

“Marcus is a good lawyer,” Nigel watches my face as he speaks, his tone measured. “He is a good cog to have in a firm like ours.”

I nod slowly and try to be diplomatic even though it’s particularly painful, “He works very hard for the client.”

“There is one thing he’s not though.” Nigel’s voice drops to a whisper, “He’s not brilliant. You will be a much better asset to this firm, both long and short term. The problem is that Marcus will throw anyone under the bus he needs to in order to achieve his goals. He wants to be a partner in the firm. Are you willing to let him win?”

My eyes slam closed as the weight of Nigel’s words wrap around me. “I’m doing the best I can,” I offer.

The words sound like the lie they are. From the way Nigel’s eyes flash, he can hear it just as clearly as I can. That’s not a good thing.

“Do I need to tell you this is a safe space or some other bullshit?”

The vitriol in Nigel’s voice takes me aback for a moment. I hate the feeling of being on my backfoot which is how I’ve felt since this conversation began. It makes me feel defensive, but such a reaction won’t help me here.

With a weary sigh, Nigel shakes his head and offers up a weak, “Sorry. That was out of line.” When I really look at my mentor, it’s clear he’s tired. Has the firm sucked the life from the man or is it something else? It sure as fuck isn’t my place to ask. His voice is softer, but no less direct when he asks, “What is your issue with this client?”

“I don’t have an issue with Mr. Culbert.”

“We might be criminal defense attorneys, but that doesn’t mean you get to lie to me,” he immediately calls me out on my bullshit.

I let out a low groan and shake my head slowly because I don’t have much of a choice here. It’s time to come clean. Even if it kills me.

As I run my fingers through my hair, I heave a heavy sigh, “Culbert is guilty. He’s basically admitted as much.”

Nigel narrows his eyes at me, and I can practically feel the disappointment rolling off him. “You’re a defense attorney. Our clients areinnocentuntil provenguilty,” when I open my mouth to interrupt him, his voice takes on an edge of steel, “in a court of law. Your job is to mount the best defense you can because the burden of proof rests on the prosecution.”

“I know,” I barely stop myself from keeping the whine out of my voice. I clear my throat and try to keep my shit together. “I know what my job is and, for the most part, I’ve been able to do it. I can focus on defending the client to the best of my ability, no matter their charges. You know this,” I point out, a bit of steel in my voice.

“It hasn’t been a problem until now,” he agrees, “so what’s different?” He arches his eyebrow in challenge, his voice holding the same, “I’m sure this isn’t the first client you’ve suspected has been guilty.”

“It’s different this time. Not only has he basically said he did it, and has no shame over it, but I can’t stop thinking about his victims,” I admit.

The way Nigel tilts his head as he looks at me tells me he knows there’s more to it than what I’m saying. And he’s not fucking wrong.

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