Practice Makes Perfect (12 page)

And it was in that moment, as J.D. sat in the galley with people laughing and applauding all around him, as he watched Payton smiling, embarrassed but undefeated, that it happened.

Something changed.

He didn’t know anyone who would’ve handled such a ridiculous situation nearly so well. Maybe he hadn’t noticed it before, but she was actually kind of . . . funny. Or maybe he had already known that, he suddenly wasn’t sure. But what he did know was that he had flipped out over a friggin’ coffee stain on his suit, and yet here Payton had done a full face-plant right into the laps of twelve jurors and then treated them to a free peep show, but nevertheless managed to remain calm and collected.

And suddenly J.D. found himself looking at Payton with quite a bit of admiration.

He grinned and joined in with the others who cheered her on, and he momentarily forgot the role he had played in the whole debacle until, right then, she glanced down at her shoe.

Uh-oh.

J.D. watched as Payton picked up the shoe and presumably noticed the clean, precise way the heel had broken, the remnants of the glue he had applied. She ran her finger over the broken heel, examining it, and in that moment J.D. knew that she knew.

A random thought occurred to him right then, about how they say that criminals always return to the scene of the crime—wasn’t that how Bundy or Berkowitz or one of those guys got caught—and actually, it was kind of funny that he was thinking about murder right then because when Payton looked up from the broken shoe and glanced across the courtroom and saw J.D. sitting there, murder is exactly what was in her eyes.

When Payton met his gaze, J.D. thought he had never seen her dark blue eyes look so cold. And he knew one thing for certain.

He was toast.

PAYTON STORMED OUT the courthouse doors—suit jacket still tied around her waist—with J.D. following closely on her heels.

“Come on, Payton—it’s not like I meant for that to happen!” he called after her. “Honestly, who could’ve planned
that
?”

A part of her wished she never had to come back to court. Better yet, a part of her wished the earth would just open up and swallow her, she was that mortified.

The judge had called a one-hour recess so that—as he had delicately put it—“anyone who wished to adjust his or her attire could do so.” Payton now was in a race to get back to the office, change into her spare suit, then get to the nearest department store to buy a new pair of shoes. On top of everything else, the bastard—no other name was necessary, from now on the man formerly known as J.D. would simply be called The Bastard, The Prick, or The Shithead—had ruined her best pair of shoes. But that was hardly her biggest concern.

Her ass had been hanging out in open court.

Her
ass
had been hanging out in
open court
.

Clomping along the sidewalk unevenly in her broken heel, stomping past innocent pedestrians who were having a lovely, normal day, people who presumably had
not
had their asses hanging out in open court, Payton grumbled out loud to herself about the worst part of it all.

“I just had to wear a thong today, didn’t I?” she hissed angrily. She could’ve smacked herself in the head for that decision.

The Shithead was suddenly at her side. He grinned. “Well, point of fact, I think that women should wear thongs every d . . .” he trailed off, seeing her look. “But I can see you’re not in a place to discuss that right now.”

Payton couldn’t take it a moment longer. She advanced on J.D. “Oh, you think this is
funny
? Please—allow me to disabuse you of that notion.”

“Payton—”

“
Don’t.
Don’t ‘Payton’ me, don’t waste your breath with excuses or explanations—
I don’t care
.”

She stared J.D. right in the eyes. “If this is how you want to play the game, Jameson, that’s fine with me. The gloves are now off. I am about to become the bitch you’ve always thought I was.”

Payton saw that her comment took J.D. aback, that it wiped his grin—which she interpreted as a smirk—right off his face. And she saw something momentarily flash in his eyes, maybe it was anger, maybe it was something else—right now she didn’t care either way. Right now, as she stood on that sidewalk, facing J.D. in her torn skirt and broken heel and her naked butt barely covered by the jacket tied around her waist, all she cared about was at least having the dignity of getting in the last word.

So, seeing that she had momentarily silenced him, Payton took advantage of the opportunity and turned and walked away.

Thirteen

“IT COULDN’T HAVE been
that
bad.”

Curled up on her couch, Payton gave Chase a look over the carton of pad thai she held. She swallowed, then gestured with her chopsticks for emphasis.

“Oh, no, trust me, it was
that
bad.”

Chase had called her earlier, while she was still at the office. Although the rest of her day in court had thankfully passed by uneventfully—after the break she had even managed to get back on track with her cross-examination of the plaintiff—Payton still had been so embarrassed that she told Chase only, in what had to be the understatement of the year, that she’d had “kind of a bad day in court.”

An hour later, Chase had surprised her at home with a bag of Asian takeout. To cheer her up, he said. Not sure which one she preferred, he’d brought both tofu pad thai and vegetable fried rice. Touched by the gesture, Payton figured she could at least give him the condensed version of what had happened that morning. She appreciated it when he politely covered his laugh as a cough and blamed the spiciness of the food.

“But you recovered well—that’s what the jury will remember,” Chase told her. Stretched out comfortably on the couch across from her, he set his carton down on the coffee table and leaned in.

“I’m actually kind of sad I wasn’t there—I think I would’ve liked the view,” he said with a boyish grin. Then he leaned over and kissed her.

As Payton had described to Laney the other day, she found being with Chase to be . . . calming. It was a nice change of pace for her—certain situations at work, and certain unnamed someones in particular, had a tendency to get her worked up. But with Chase, there was no fuss. At a time when things in Payton’s life seemed uncertain and more than a bit out of control, being with Chase was easy.
He
was easy.

Not that way.

She didn’t know that.

Yet.

After they kissed for a moment or two, Chase pulled back and gave Payton a serious look. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I think maybe it’s time we take our relationship to the next level.”

Payton raised an eyebrow. Oh, really? “The next level being . . . ?”

“A weekend date.”

“Ah, a weekend date.” Payton shook her head teasingly. “I don’t know, that’s a big step. Did you have any particular weekend in mind?”

“Actually, I was thinking about this one,” Chase said.

“Wow. I don’t know. This weekend, let me see . . .” Payton pretended to mull this over. “There’s some laundry I’ve been meaning to get to, but I suppose if I rearrange my schedule . . .”

With a wink, she smiled. “Okay.”

Chase pretended to sigh with relief. “To think I nearly lost out to laundry. My ego never would’ve recovered.”

“Hey, this isn’t everyday laundry we’re talking about,” Payton said. “I was going to do
sheets
. Maybe even a towel or two. If that’s not your idea of a Friday night party, I don’t know what is.”

Chase laughed. “Well, now that I know that I rank above sheets, I feel so much better.”

Payton smiled, then fell more serious as she studied him. There was something she felt she needed to say.

“You do know that it’s just all this stuff I have going on at work, right? I’m really busy with this trial, and they’re going to name the new partners at the end of the month.” She had told Chase earlier that there was stiff competition in her bid to make partner, although she hadn’t gone into specifics.

Chase nodded and took Payton’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

“I’m just teasing you. I know how busy you are right now.”

Payton peered into his warm brown eyes. Yes, that’s all it was, she told herself, she was busy with work. Nothing else.

Before any contrary thought could creep into her mind, she reached up and gently pulled Chase in to kiss him.

AN HOUR OR so later, they said good night. After briefly discussing their plans for Friday, Payton shut the door behind him. She leaned against the door, reflecting.

That Chase. Such a good guy. How she so looked forward to their next date.

Payton sighed peacefully.

Then she eagerly sprang away from the door.

Back to the business at hand. She had some serious plotting and scheming to do. At least eight hours had gone by and she hadn’t yet come up with any suitable way to strike back at the evil that was J.D. She needed a plan. Fast.

He had wanted to make her look stupid. Frankly, he had succeeded in that. But the next move was hers.

Now what could she possibly do that would top naked-butt-cheek courtroom pratfalls . . . ?

Payton bustled around her apartment, cleaning up after her dinner with Chase, musing over this. She needed to come up with something final. The kill shot. The check-mate. The move that would lock up the partnership spot once and for all. Then she would be done with J. D. Jameson forever. No more having to prove herself; no more of those pesky jitters she felt whenever she saw him at work—something like butterflies in her stomach, it was actually quite annoying; no more stress; no more fights in the library; and definitely no more sexy I’m-gonna-kiss-you-now-woman blue-eyed heated gazes.

She had no idea why she just thought that.

Sleep deprivation, undoubtedly. Like the high-altitude sickness, it struck suddenly and at the oddest times.

Payton sped through her nighttime routine and crawled into bed. When the lights were off, she did
not
think about J.D.

Except to plot her schemes of revenge, of course.

Fourteen

I F, AS LEX Kendall liked to say, all women were sisters under the same moon, then Lady Justice was no exception. She was kind to Payton indeed.

It took only two days before she stumbled upon her big chance.

The best part of it was that Payton didn’t even have to do anything. The opportunity just happened upon her. She took it as a sign that the Fates—also women, she noted—were on her side.

She got back to the office early that afternoon. One of the plaintiff’s witnesses had a family emergency and needed to be rescheduled to testify the following day. With no other witnesses present in court or available on such short notice, the judge had recessed the trial until the following morning.

Payton had settled down at her desk and begun reviewing her email, finding over twenty messages marked urgent (some people were far too liberal in their use of that little red exclamation point), when she noticed Irma over at J.D.’s secretary’s desk. The two women had their heads bowed and were whispering intently.

Ignoring them at first, Payton continued on with her email. Of course she found no actual emergencies, just everyday, run-of-the-mill client panic attacks. But a few minutes later, after seeing the secretaries still deep in their huddle, she became intrigued. Especially after Kathy, J.D.’s secretary, hurried off from her desk looking frantic.

Payton called out to Irma as she passed by her office.

“Psst! Psst! Irma!”

When Irma glanced over, Payton gestured for her to step into her office.

“What’s going on?” she asked as soon as Irma shut the door. “I saw you over at Kathy’s desk. She looks like she’s freaking out about something.”

Irma peeked out the glass window of the office, then turned back to Payton. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but J.D.’s in trouble.”

Ooh . . . this was
good
. Payton resisted the urge to rub her hands together gleefully.

“What kind of trouble? Tell me,” she said, eager for the details.

“Well, apparently,” Irma began, “he got called into court for some sort of emergency motion—what did Kathy say it was—a contempt motion? Contested motion? I can’t remember which—”

Payton waved impatiently, moving Irma along. “Either way. An emergency motion. And?”

“
And
”—Irma threw Payton a look, she was getting there—“the judge won’t let him leave. He wants to hear oral argument and have a hearing on the motion right now. But the problem is, J.D. has a deposition scheduled for this afternoon that was supposed to start, like, fifteen minutes ago. The other lawyer and his client are upstairs and threatening to leave if the dep doesn’t start immediately. Kathy went to try to stall them.”

Payton and Irma suddenly spotted Kathy hurrying back to her desk. She did not look happy.

“I better go out there and see if there’s anything I can do to help,” Irma said.

She headed back out to Kathy’s desk. Payton watched through the glass as J.D.’s secretary held up her hands, gesturing anxiously, then ran off again.

Payton called out to Irma once more.

“Psst! Irma!
Psst!
”

Irma walked back into Payton’s office. “What is with you today? You’re awfully pesty.”

Payton ignored this. “What did Kathy say? It didn’t look good. Is it bad? How bad? Tell me.”

“You know, you could just talk to Kathy yourself,” Irma told her.

“I’m trying to be covert. Don’t ask. Just tell me what’s happening with J.D.”

“Kathy says he’s freaking out. I guess he called the other lawyer from the courthouse and tried to explain his situation, but apparently the guy’s being a jerk about it. And when Kathy went upstairs to talk to him and his client, the lawyer said he had flown into town from New York especially for this deposition and if it didn’t start immediately, he was going to file a motion for sanctions, demanding he be reimbursed for his plane fare, hotel, and attorney’s fees.”

Payton rolled her eyes. Some lawyers could be such assholes. Luckily for her, this particular asshole was somebody else’s problem.

“Hmm . . . that really is quite a predicament,” she said most sympathetically. “But I’m sure J.D. will work it out somehow. Who’s the partner on the case? I guess he’ll have to step in and take the dep.”

“Actually, it’s Ben Gould’s case. But he’s out of town,” Irma said.

“What a shame. Who’s the client?”

“KPLM Consulting.”

“Ouch.”

Having gone to all the firm meetings—the diligent associate she was—Payton knew that KPLM was the firm’s third-largest client. Ben would not be pleased to hear of any screwups involving their matters.

“I guess J.D.’s pretty desperate,” Irma told her. “He asked Kathy to see if any of the other upper-level associates could fill in for him and take the deposition.”

Payton nodded. Then she spun around in her chair and went back to the very important task of sorting through her email. “Well, I hope that works out for him.”

She felt Irma’s eyes on her.

“I guess that means you’re
not
available to help out?” Irma asked.

“Boy, wow—I really wish I could. But with this trial and everything . . .” Payton gestured dramatically to the pile of files on her desk, none of which actually had anything to do with her trial. “I just don’t see how I could squeeze it in.” She snapped her fingers. Damn.

Irma nodded. If she was suspicious, she didn’t let on. “Okay, I’ll let Kathy know. Although I wasn’t supposed to ask you, anyway. J.D. told her to ask anyone but you. I guess he probably already knew you were too busy.”

No, he doesn’t want me to know he’s royally screwed,
Payton thought with satisfaction. But she bit her tongue as Irma left the office.

Once alone, Payton had a moment to assess the fortuity of this most delectable and unexpected turn of events.

She had just won.

Not appearing for a deposition, risking sanctions and attorney’s fees against one of the firm’s biggest clients—these were not exactly things that partners turned the other cheek to. It may not have been J.D.’s fault, but, well, them’s the breaks. Associates seeking to be partner were expected to magically prevent this stuff from happening and if they didn’t . . .

Payton knew exactly what would happen. If there was any fallout resulting from today’s mishap, Ben would sell out J.D. in a heartbeat. Partner CYA at its best.

And if it truly was that tight of a race between her and J.D., Payton had to think this would be enough to inch her ahead. Coffee-stained suits, exposed thong-buns—these things were mere pittances in comparison to pissing off the firm’s third-largest client.

And she never even had to lift a finger to make it all happen.

Outside her office, Payton heard a panicked Kathy ask Irma for help.

“I’ve tried all the seventh years, and none of them can take the deposition,” she heard Kathy say. “Can you call the sixth and fifth years while I run upstairs and ask the attorney to wait just five more minutes? If you find someone, give them the deposition notice—it’s on my desk.”

Payton sighed.

Pity.

She turned her attention back to the imaginary tasks she was so diligently working on.

Poor J.D. She could just picture him, stuck at the courthouse, scrambling, worrying, wondering what was the luck in having something like this happen now.

Good. He deserved it.

This was all his own doing, really. He had obviously taken on too many cases in these last couple of weeks before the partnership decision, trying to show her up. So the mess he was in certainly wasn’t
her
problem. Besides, he didn’t want her help, anyway.
Ask anyone but Payton,
he had said.

Fine. Great. That officially released her of any obligation to get involved.

Payton sighed again.

Pity.

For some reason, the sentiment felt less and less victorious with every moment that passed.

Payton sat at her desk.

And sat some more. Drumming her fingers.

Dum-de-dum-de-dum.

Oh, fuck it. Without a clue why, she got up and strode out of her office.

PAYTON KNOCKED ON Tyler’s door.

When he looked up from his desk and saw her standing there, Tyler looked more than a little surprised. Payton understood this. She could probably count on one hand the number of times she and Tyler had spoken. As J.D.’s best friend, he was de facto off-limits.

Taken aback though he was, Tyler smiled good-naturedly.

“Payton. Hi. Can I help you with something?”

Hmm. He actually seemed pleasant enough, Payton thought. Shame he had such poor taste in friends.

She leaned against the door. Totally blasé. “I just thought you might want to know that J.D. is in trouble. He’s stuck at the courthouse and can’t make it back for some deposition he’s supposed to be taking right now.”

She nonchalantly examined the tips of her fingernails. “Not that it’s any of my concern, but the deposition is for some important case he has with KPLM Consulting. I guess it’s a pretty important matter.”

She sighed unworriedly, picking at a cuticle. “He’ll probably get fired if he doesn’t find someone to take the dep in the next couple of minutes. Not that I care. I just so happened to catch a glance at the deposition notice on Kathy’s desk; it’s a 30(b)(6) deposition. Whatever.”

Not surprisingly, as J.D.’s best friend, Tyler was extremely flustered by this unexpected news.

“Um . . . okay. Wow. Let me think for a second.” He got up from his desk, walked around it, then went back. “I guess I should call Kathy. No, J.D.” He looked uncertainly over at Payton. “I should call J.D., right? See what he wants me to do?”

“I don’t think there’s time for that,” Payton told him. “Kathy said the attorney’s pitching a fit and ready to leave any minute.”

“Okay—I’ll stall them,” Tyler decided.

Payton sighed in frustration. Did she have to spell it out for him?

“Tyler. You have to take this deposition. Now.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment, then nodded. “Of course, right. Sure. You said it was a 30(b)(6) deposition?”

“Yes.”

Tyler nodded again, then hurried over and pulled his copy of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure off his shelf. “Um, 30(b)(6) . . . let’s see . . .” He flipped through the pages. “Okay—here it is.”

Payton stared at him, appalled. “Good god, boy—have you never taken a 30(b)(6) deposition?”

Tyler paused his skimming to peer up at her. “Wow, you just sounded
exactly
like J.D. right then.”

Payton scowled. As if.

Seeing her expression, Tyler answered quickly. “I think I may have sat in on a 30(b)(6) dep when I was a summer associate.” He looked at her questioningly. “Is that the one where you designate someone to testify as an agent of the corporation?”

Payton rolled her eyes. Were they teaching these kids
nothing
nowadays?

“Tyler—this is kind of a big deal,” she said. “These 30(b)(6) depositions can be tricky. The witnesses are usually very well prepared, since everything they say can be held against the company.”

Tyler looked her over. “So you’ve done this before?”

Payton snorted. Was the Pope German? “Uh . . . yes.”

“So, you could take this dep?”

“Like a champ.
But.
” She gave Tyler a pointed look. He stared back at her with those little I’m-just-a-sixth-year-associate lost eyes.

Payton spoke cautiously. “You are aware of the situation between J.D. and myself, are you not?”

“I am aware of it, yes.”

So he knew what he was asking of her, Payton thought. She continued to stare at Tyler.

He never blinked once.

After a moment, Payton spoke.

“He wouldn’t do it for me.”

Tyler cocked his head, interested. “Is that what matters to you?”

Payton flung her hair back, deciding to ignore that question. “Fine,” she told Tyler through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it.”

She held up a finger. “But
you
are going to help me. Go upstairs and tell the lawyer and his client that we apologize for the delay, but that everything has been straightened out and the deposition will begin in five minutes. Introduce yourself, and in turn, make sure you get the lawyer’s name. Then come back here and run a quick search in Martindale-Hubbell and on LexisNexis—find any noteworthy cases he’s handled, major clients, et cetera. I won’t have time to review everything before the deposition starts, but I’ll call you during our first break and you can give me the highlights. Okay?”

Tyler nodded affirmatively. “Got it.”

With that, Payton left his office and headed down the hall to talk to J.D.’s secretary.

“Kathy—I’ll need whatever files J.D. has for this deposition,” she said as soon as she got to his secretary’s desk. “Do you know if he prepares outlines for his deps? If you can’t find a copy in the files, run a search on his computer.”

Kathy flew out of her chair, extremely relieved. “Does this mean you can cover the deposition? Oh, thank goodness, Payton. I’ll get you that stuff right away. Yes, J.D. does prepare outlines for his deps, and I know right where I can find it . . .”

As Kathy hurried off, Payton headed to her own office. Irma glanced up curiously as she passed by.

“Change of heart?” she asked. “What happened to Tyler?”

“Never send a boy to do a woman’s job, Irma.”

Payton winked at her secretary, then disappeared into her office to get her game face on.

ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, the deposition went pretty damn well. Payton attributed this to the fact that she had seriously mad skills as a lawyer.

And maybe just the teensiest bit to the fact that J.D. had prepared a very thorough deposition outline that set forth virtually every question she needed to ask.

Despite the extremely late notice, Payton found it not difficult at all to step in—along with the outline, J.D. had prepared his exhibits in advance and had organized them sequentially. Sure, some minor deviations from the outline were sporadically necessary to clarify something the witness said. But other than that, she found J.D.’s preparation and strategy to be very much in line with what hers would have been had it been her own case. She even managed—despite the delay in starting—to finish the deposition by four thirty, something J.D. apparently had promised the lawyer so that he and the witness could make their six o’clock flight back to New York.