Solace (4 page)

I
t wasn’t
the first time Aaron had manned the front desk, but it was the first time he’d done so voluntarily.

He’d never avoided a day of work before, though he’d considered it after the presentation yesterday. That feeling lingered when Richard was tied up in meetings all day, and Aaron was left to wonder when the fallout from his utter failure would come.

So he’d tried to hedge his bets and at least put forth an effort so that Richard could see he genuinely wanted to get better. Running the front desk wasn’t a huge accomplishment for most people, but for Aaron, the little spikes of anxiety he felt whenever someone walked through the door or called the facility made it difficult.

It wasn’t long before the bell on the door rang, signaling the first arrival of the day. Aaron’s stomach clenched, but he plastered a smile on his face and looked straight ahead to greet the newcomer.

Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately, for Aaron’s seizing heart—it was someone he’d already met. The soldier from yesterday. Shane Carter.

He wasn’t sure the man would show, but he’d secretly hoped he would. And dreaded it, too. He knew there was a good chance he was imagining things, but it had seemed like Shane had been flirting with him, and he just didn’t know how to respond to that.

Men who looked like Shane didn’t flirt with men who looked—and behaved—like him.

But Shane smiled, dashing away his thoughts. And what was left of his ability to string together a coherent sentence, apparently.

“Hey again. Guess I got here early enough, huh?”

“Yep.” That was helpful. And contributed so much to the conversation.

“Think I’d like to take a crack at an application.”

Aaron smiled, reaching underneath the desk. “Great, just fill this out and I’ll look it over.”

He fit the sheet of paper onto a clipboard, but, as he offered it to Shane, something struck him. The other counselors did interviews, not just applications. Richard would want to see that from him.

And Aaron didn’t exactly hate the idea of spending time alone with Shane, even if his stomach lurched yet again.

“Actually, we can sit down and talk. That way I can get a better idea of what you need. Is that okay?”

“Sounds good to me,” Shane said, and Aaron wondered if the man had a care in the world from the way he held himself.

That was silly, though. He obviously did. He wouldn’t be here otherwise.

Aaron opened up a door, popping his head in to call down the hallway. “Carla, can you keep an eye on the door for me? I’m taking Mr. Carter to the interview room.”

He heard Carla answer, then led Shane over to a side room, trying to ignore the tingle of awareness that lit through him.

It was almost like his anxiety was playing off his adrenaline, and both were conspiring to make him extremely conscious of this man, in a way that was going to be
really
unfortunate soon if he couldn’t get a grip on his own body.

Bringing the application with him, Aaron gestured to a chair and sat on the other side of the table. He wouldn’t say his anxieties were alleviated when it was just he and Shane in the room, but they were… different.

Instead of piling on from all different directions, they were fixed on this one man, and seemed to ebb and flow in response to his expression.

“So, I just need to ask you some questions to get an idea of where you’re at and what you need. A service dog isn’t the answer for everyone, and we don’t want to waste your time or our resources if it isn’t a good fit.”

“Understood,” Shane said, in a deep rumbling voice that practically made Aaron’s toes curl in his shoes.

He focused on the paper, because at least it gave him an excuse not to look at Shane’s eyes to try and figure out just how many shades of brown and amber existed in them.

“I know your name,” he said, filling that out. “Date of birth? Occupation?”

“March twenty-first, 1991, and I’m… between things right now,” Shane said, and that charisma seemed momentarily sapped. “I was a service tech in the Army for six years before this, though.”

“And are you still active military?”

That wasn’t on the form, but Aaron couldn’t place a dog with a soldier who was going back overseas. At least, not the types of dogs he knew how to train.

Shane’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No. I was discharged.”

“House, apartment…? What’s your living situation like, and do you own or rent?”

“I’m in my parents’ old place. It’s been paid off for a while. They transferred the deed over to me three years ago.”

Even more of that outgoing nature seemed to be stripped away, and Aaron began to fidget, wondering if he was the cause of it.

“There’s a fenced backyard, if it matters. No pool or anything.”

Aaron nodded, writing that down. “Have you ever owned a dog before?”

“I had dogs growing up. My parents took care of them until I was old enough, but feeding and walking and all that shit was part of my chores.”

That was a little less guarded. Aaron smiled, but Shane reached up and scrubbed his hand over the short hairs on his scalp.

“Sorry, habit.”

“I’m not the swear police,” Aaron said, astonished that he’d been able to get something halfway witty to come out of his mouth instead of letting it bounce around in his head unspoken.

It helped that Shane laughed. “Yeah? Shame. You’d look pretty good in a uniform.”

A shot of heat went straight to his cheeks, and then flushed lower in his body just for good measure. He cleared his throat and tried to find his place on the application.

“You were in the Army for six years?”

“Yeah,” Shane said, his tone sobering immediately.

“During that time, did you suffer any trauma?”

“Man, all these questions. You sure this isn’t a date or something? Feels like the first date I had with my wife.”

His tone was playful, and Aaron felt his blush deepen. Words seemed to leap from his tongue before he could stop them.

“I’ve never dated anyone who looks like you,” Aaron blurted out.

Shane grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Oh, God. What was he doing? He was supposed to be asking questions, and… wait. Wife?

“So you’re married then?”

Shane lifted up his hand. A patch of pale skin showed where a ring once was.

“Ex-wife. We got divorced years ago.”

But he’d had a wife, so everything Aaron perceived as flirting? That was probably just his personality. He could likely charm the robes off a monk.

He shouldn’t be disappointed, but a pit opened up in his stomach and those foolish hopes fell straight inside.

“Owning a dog is a big commitment, and owning a service dog even more so. Are you prepared for the burden? The care you’ll need to provide, and the financial costs associated with the program and the dog?”

Shane shifted in his chair, and Aaron noticed he wasn’t looking at him anymore.

“I’ll figure it out, yeah.”

An odd answer. Most people said yes, whether they were prepared or not. Additional screening weeded out those who weren’t.

But for now he’d trust that Shane could handle it.

“Okay, this is the most important question: How do you think a service dog can help you?”

Right now, Aaron had no idea what Shane needed. He seemed… normal. Far more normal than Aaron. But Aaron knew appearances could be deceiving, and some struggles were often invisible.

“You know, I think… I don’t know. It’ll make things easier.”

Aaron’s brow rose. This whole time, Shane had come across as confident in his answers. Now they were falling apart, and his latest seemed like it was causing him grief.

Or agitation. His jaw clenched and a vein ticked in his temple, confirming Aaron’s assumption.

“Could you elaborate?”

When Shane looked at him, Aaron got the sense he’d just poked a very angry bear. He shrank a little in his seat in response.

But Shane just looked away, running his hand over his head again. His palm must have permanent razor burn from how often he did that.

“This isn’t going to work,” he said suddenly. “Sorry to waste your time.”

Shane’s chair scraped against the floor, and Aaron blinked. What just happened? He’d been growing increasingly more closed off, but this seemed like a complete one-eighty.

“Wait,” Aaron said, before the idea to stop Shane even popped into his head.

Shane did stop, then looked over at him, a challenge in his eyes. Shit. Now he had to follow it up with something.

And that something couldn’t be “‘Never mind, have a nice day.’”

“You had to have a reason for coming here. And I don’t know you, but I don’t think you would’ve put forth the effort to meet with me if you were just going to blow me off.”

“I wouldn’t,” Shane said cautiously.

“So what’s the issue? I’m your counselor. I can help you.”

A slow, rueful smile crossed Shane’s lips. “You really can’t.”

“Is it the cost? I know it’s a big pill to swallow. We can usually do payment plans, or make some kind of arrangement.”

If Shane was accepted into the program, he would be Paws For Hope’s very first vet. It was an area they’d wanted to cover for a long time—especially after Richard’s nephew had come back from Iraq in need of assistance—but they just hadn’t had the resources before.

If Aaron could convince him to stay, he’d be helping to launch PFH into a whole new era. That had to count for something.

He knew it went deeper than that, though. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about Shane. He was starting to get the impression that the outgoing, charismatic man he’d met was just a mask.

And Aaron was intimately familiar with masks.

“Yeah. It’s the cost,” he mumbled.

“What if I train you with a dog on my own time?”

Aaron didn’t know how the solution presented itself to him, or why. He just blurted it out the same way he’d blurted out the plea for Shane to stop.

This wasn’t like him. He didn’t speak without thinking. Ever.

When he realized what he’d said, his mind seemed to collapse, and whatever armor had been keeping him from stammering quickly fell to pieces.

“I mean… You’d have to cover the adoption fee and pay for anything the dog needed. But it’ll cost a lot less than the full program.”

Shane’s eyes widened slightly. He stared at Aaron as if trying to look through him. His lips pursed, and then he finally spoke.

“Why are you doing this? You don’t know me. I could be a fucking serial killer for all you know.”

Someone who was socially adept would probably respond in kind. Aaron could think of a dozen responses in his head, but that barrier was up again, and none of them passed his lips.

“Why do you need a service dog, Shane?” he asked in return.

For a moment he thought the man might simply leave. He looked at the door, then slowly dragged his gaze back to Aaron. Intense brown eyes met his, but there was a spark of something in them that he couldn’t place.

“I was dishonorably discharged for misconduct. I can’t turn it off. I can’t get back into a normal head space. Whatever the fuck that means.”

It wasn’t an exhaustive answer, but it proved Aaron’s theory right. There was more to this man. A lot more.

And some gut instinct told him he was worth the time.

“Then… If you really want help, meet me at the shelter tomorrow at six.”

I
t took
Aaron less than an hour to realize his mistake.

Or at least one of his mistakes.

He hadn’t cleared this brilliant idea with Richard. As soon as that fact settled in, it gnawed incessantly at him. Richard was making calls all morning, trying to scare up some sponsors so they could do more community outreach. Aaron didn’t want to bother him.

But the longer he let this fester, the worse it was going to get.

So after only twenty minutes of wrestling with his conscience, Aaron padded over to the director’s office and ducked his head into the doorway.

Richard never kept the door closed, even when he was on the phone, but Aaron felt rude just butting in. The feeling was justified, since Richard was still in the middle of an important call.

“Contribution would be as much or as little as you’d like. We do community events and fundraisers, and some of our sponsors set up booths there. Your representatives are welcome to come by our facility any time…”

Definitely an important call. Things hadn’t exactly been rosy for them in the financial department. Aaron’s stomach sank like solid lead. What was he thinking, taking a client from the organization?

Aaron started to leave, but Richard looked up and caught his gaze. He beckoned him into his office, and Aaron felt he had no choice but to take a seat.

The call didn’t last much longer, but it gave Aaron plenty of time to fidget and pick at a loose seam.

“Sorry about that. I’m glad Mike is willing to sponsor us, but Christ, that man could talk about nothing for hours.”

Aaron gave a polite smile, and Richard continued. His boss knew him too well to think he was just making a social call.

“I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you.”

That wasn’t what Aaron had expected, but anything that allowed him to procrastinate couldn’t be that terrible.

“I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have pushed you to do the presentation at the VA. Not with such short notice, and not as your first speech. I damn near threw you into the deep end with cement blocks tied to your ankles.”

Aaron’s jaw worked, but the words that came out were far more dismissive than he intended. “It’s fine. I should’ve been able to do it.”

“No, it’s not. It was wrong, and I apologize. I know this is going to… take time. I don’t expect you to overcome it in a week. I just… I know you have potential, Aaron.”

Richard looked up at him, his gaze full of a familial fondness that warmed Aaron through. It had been a long time since he’d wished for a decent father to replace the one he had. That ship had long since sailed. But Richard would definitely be his first choice.

“I do want to work on it. I’ve been manning the front desk today, and maybe I can do another presentation later. A small one.”

Very small. But at least it was a start.

Richard smiled, and Aaron remembered why he was here. Right. He was going to abuse Richard’s trust and kindness. Fantastic.

“I’m guessing you didn’t come here for that, though. What did you need?”

His anxiety coiled into a tight ball, lodging itself high in his throat.

“I… may have done something a little unorthodox.”

Richard seemed unfazed by this. He just crossed something off a list in front of him.

“Unorthodox how?”

“Well, hypothetically… if I made an off-the-clock arrangement with a potential client, how bad would that be?”

He looked up at that, one thick eyebrow rising. “What kind of arrangement?”

Aaron rubbed his arm absently. “A soldier came in this morning, but he didn’t have the funds to pay for training, so… I offered to help him train a dog on my own. It won’t affect my work in any way, and I—”

“Aaron, we have people come in and out of here every day, and all of those people could use our services. We can’t give them away for free.”

“But it’s not our service,” he said lamely. “It’s mine.”

“Without the support of an organization, the dog won’t be certified.”

Shit. He hadn’t considered that. If the dog wasn’t certified, Shane couldn’t legally take him into public venues that didn’t allow pets.

“I’ll tell you what,” Richard began, in a voice that always gave Aaron pause. “I’m not happy about this, but I think it could be a learning opportunity. You’re going to treat this as a case study. Update me weekly on his progress, and then you’ll try another presentation at the VA, citing his case specifically.”

Panic rose in Aaron; a caustic, bubbling thing.

“We’ll work up to it.”

That didn’t help. Much.

“Okay.”

Just the thought of giving that presentation made him feel wobbly inside. He rose from his chair, confident the discussion was over, and headed toward the door.

Richard called out to him before he reached it.

“Aaron.”

He turned, afraid for what he might hear next. Weekly mini-presentations? A webinar? Podcast?

“If you feel like it’s too much, please let me know. I want you to succeed, son. But not if it’s going to make you a wreck.”

Aaron swallowed down the lump of emotion that swelled in his throat. He nodded mutely, offered a grateful smile, then headed back to the reception desk to finish out his day.