Time Served

Chapter 1

"Next up for auction is the honor of naming the naked mole rat recently born at the North Campbell Zoo..."

The silent room fills with intrigued murmurs, and I polish off my second glass of wine, trying to keep my expression neutral. If it's anything like the previous items, this particular "honor" will go for an embarrassingly high amount. Paddles fly up in rapid succession, the auctioneer rattles off extravagant numbers and people have a grand old time. And that's why we're here, isn't it? A wonderful early summer day spent at the annual Ensley Golf & Country Club fundraiser for some cause no one in attendance knows or cares much about.

I glance around the well-appointed dining room, taking in the faintly sunburned crowd in their linen pants and navy jackets, pearls and heels. When I'd first started at Sterling, Morgan & Haines, I'd been desperate to attend this high-profile fundraiser, and now that I've been given the chance, it's taking everything I've got not to fidget in my seat.

"Should we bid?" My boyfriend of six weeks, Todd Varner, is the perfect date. Unlike me, he grew up in this white-collar world and doesn't have to feign enthusiasm for the proceedings. In fact, he spent most of the morning explaining the finer points of golf, making me wonder why we'd started dating in the first place.

"Why not?" I reply. People are going crazy for this thing. Have they never seen a naked mole rat? I saw a picture once, and its hideous little face is burned into my brain. Todd squeezes my fingers, and I feel bad for doubting him. He's an accountant at the firm, handsome, smart and good in bed. I catch him eyeing me and smile eagerly, like I really hope we win.

He bids and I blanch at the number. "You're having fun, right?" he asks, squinting at me. "You're not thinking about work? On a Saturday?"

"No," I lie, "I'm not thinking about work." I am absolutely thinking about work. The firm is planning one of the biggest class action lawsuits in its history, and one fourth-year associate will be asked to second chair. I'd much rather be in my office, eating pad Thai and preparing my interview notes than sitting in this swanky dining room trying to win the right to name a rodent.

"Sold!" the auctioneer finally shouts, and the room explodes into applause. That's when I realize Todd is beaming and nodding graciously—like a winner.

"You won?"

"That's right," he replies, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek as I grin dutifully. Is there a time I've smiled today that hasn't been forced? I'm living the life I'd only dreamed of, the one I'd given up everything for, and I'm acting like an ungrateful jackass. I give myself a mental kick in the head and tune in to the conversation at the table.

"...such a whimsical gift," the elderly gentleman—a retired city councilman—seated on Todd's right is saying. "Do you have a name picked out?"

"Of course," Todd answers, reaching for my hand. "I'm going to name it Rachel."

My smile freezes. "Really?" I manage.

"Absolutely."

"That's adorable," the councilman's wife coos. "Naked Mole Rat Rachel."

I laugh weakly.

"You know," Todd continues, "I actually had an unusual pet growing up."

The councilman looks delighted. "You don't say."

"Yes, it was a rare cat called the Kurilian Bobtail..."

I take a guilty sip of my wine. We're at this fundraiser because we can afford to give back. I make good money at the law firm and Todd grew up wealthy. Spending a small fortune on a name is actually something he's done before: he'd once paid ten grand for a letter signed by Winston Churchill. And that wasn't even the gem of his signature collection! Somehow I'd found the story charming. I'd even admired the fact that Todd had interests outside of work, and had been making a half-assed effort to achieve a better work-life balance myself.