Page 3 of Rescued Love

“Culbert isn’t accused of anything violent,” he prompts. “I would think, having known you for as long as I have, that would be where you’d have an issue putting your bias aside.”

“Look,” I level Nigel with a stare that’s barely on this side of professional, “some of the people Culbert swindled are the same age as my grandfather. He targeted people with his Ponzi scheme because of their ages and the lack of people in their lives who would question them getting involved with him. He preyed on it and devastated his victims. Their lives will never be the same and it’s not like the majority of them are at an age where they can enter the work force again.”

Thinking about it, especially the hopes and dreams he fed his victims, has rage filling me. I clench my fists and quickly pull them off my desk, hoping Nigel won’t notice. He does though and I’m not surprised. The man is watching me like a hawk. I guess it makes sense why he is, considering he’s been a champion for me at the firm since the moment I started here.

“Ah,” he says like a lightbulb has gone off in his head, “this is personal for you.”

“No one has taken advantage of Grandpa,” I mumble defiantly.

But the reality is I’m not sure if I would know if someone did. It’s been years since I’ve visited him in Sweetwater Valley. My parents were high school sweethearts there, but they left the small town for college and never moved back. I’ve never lived in Sweetwater Valley, but visiting Grandpa over the summer are some of my best memories during childhood.

There was something so simple about spending time with him. He had a soft spot for animals and Nana was always telling him to stop bringing strays home. He didn’t. But she never loved him less even when he was aggravating her; I think it made her love him more.

She might have complained, but she took care of whatever animals whose lives they were making better right along with her husband. People in town knew that if they found an animal in need, they could count on the Jacobsons to take care of them.

“Still,” Nigel hedges, “you see the damage done by the alleged crimes of our client and can’t separate them from someone you know. That makes it personal.”

I shrug one shoulder, feeling vulnerable in a way that I hate. This is not the place to show any weakness. Sure, Nigel’s a good man and has been a great mentor, but that doesn’t mean my future isn’t in the man’s hands.

“You’re going to take some time off.”

My gaze snaps to his to find him looking at me with a soft understanding on his face as my mouth drops open. He can’t be serious. Can he?

I narrow my eyes, sure I must have misheard. “I’m going to do what now?” My voice rises, anger lacing my words, “You can’t be serious, Nigel.”

He holds a hand up, stopping me from getting madder and telling him right where he can take his edict and shove it. “Hear me out,” he cajoles. “You’ve never taken any vacation. I understand why because you’ve been so focused on the goal of making partner here. It’s something everyone does, but that doesn’t mean it’s healthy. You need a little time.”

“I can’t just leave my client,” I insist, even though my heart isn’t totally in it.

Honestly, the thought of not defending Mr. Culbert is enticing. That doesn’t mean everything I’ve been working towards for the last eight years won’t go up in flames withsomething as seemingly innocuous as taking time off. I could lose everything I’ve ever wanted.

At least, what I’ve convinced myself that I want.

“You can. You’re not doing your client justice right now. He’ll be fine with Marcus representing him. You have plenty of PTO and I’m insisting.” When I open my mouth to argue with him, he shakes his head and glares at me. “You will be taking some time off, and you won’t be losing anything here. You’ve proven yourself to be a brilliant lawyer, Nathan. No one can argue that you haven’t, but you’re struggling right now. Some time off, some time away, is what you need. I think you’ll come back stronger and ready to tackle what’s next in your career,” there’s a knowing glint in his eye which has my heart racing.

Is he implying something specific? I’m almost afraid to hope. There’s no way I can handle the carrot of partner being dangled in front of me to find out it was all a farce. With a neutral mask on my face, I look out the window of my office without seeing anything.

“Maybe it’s time to go visit your grandfather,” he suggests before standing and striding out of my office without another word.

Even if I were to try and argue with him, it wouldn’t get me anywhere. And I can’t say that the thought of heading to Sweetwater Valley for a little while isn’t appealing. Maybe it’ll be exactly what I need to get my head back on straight.

CHAPTER 2

KIMBALL

As I walk through the large kennels where the dogs are to get to the cat room, I smile at how excited all the animals are to see me. They should be excited since I normally have treats for them. I’m not above bribery and spreading some joy when it comes to the animals I care for in the shelter.

Even when an animal is relinquished by their owner because some circumstance has changed for the human, you never really know the kind of life the animal led. It could have been good or bad, either way I both love and hate having animals here at work. I’m here to help these animals find their next path in this life and I’m glad to be here for them, but I hate that it’s necessary.

The worst is when people come in, tears streaming down their faces, and are forced to relinquish their animal because something in their life has changed. Maybe they’re moving to somewhere they can’t have pets. Maybe they can barely feed themselves, let alone an animal. Maybe the animal is sick, and they can’t give it the care required.

Whatever it is, you can see the pain radiating off the human and animal when it’s the last thing the owner wants to do. Those are the animals I have to convince myself not to take homewith me. They’re good pets and they have so much love to give, it’s just that life happened to the humans in their life and their entire existence changes because of it.

Talk about a shitty situation. The only thing I can do is try and make it better by making sure they’re taken care of while at the shelter and then try and find them the best home for them. Thankfully, it normally works out for the best.

“I promise I haven’t forgotten about treats today,” I tell the dogs and get some barks and whimpers in response that make me smile as a head into the cat room.

This is why I work here. These animals need me, and they need the shelter. I hate the thought of them being out on the street or being in a horrible, abusive situation. It hurts my heart to even think about.

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