Practice Makes Perfect (25 page)

Except for the angry man banging incessantly on the door, that is.

And the crowd of at least a hundred people waiting impatiently in the hallway outside.

With all the rumblings coming from the other side of the door, Payton pulled back. “I think we should probably go out there.”

J.D. grinned slyly. “Actually, there’s something I’d like to do first.”

“Is that so?” she asked. “Oh, I see . . . did the empty desk give you some ideas?”

“Just so I have a sense, how long is that going to be held against me?”

“Longer than a day, I can tell you that.” But she sweetened it with a smile.

“Well,
your
mind may be in the gutter, but I had been thinking of something else.” J.D. pulled his cell phone out of his suit jacket pocket and scrolled through to find a number. He held out the phone to show her. “What do you think?”

Payton looked at the number on the screen. “If we do that, there’s no turning back.”

“I know.”

She grinned. “I really like the way you think, J. D. Jameson. Let’s do it.”

Twenty-eight

WHEN THE DOOR opened and Payton and J.D. stepped out, the crowd that had gathered in front of the office immediately quieted down.

Front and center stood Ben, who walked over to them with a look that said he was thoroughly annoyed. “Are we done with the theatrics now? Can we finally finish this?”

Payton nodded. “Actually, Ben, we are finished with this. Because I resign, too.”

She could’ve sworn she heard several people gasp.

Ben’s eyes narrowed. He glanced between her and J.D. “What sort of bullshit is this? You’re
both
resigning?”

“Sorry, Ben. But you forced our hand,” J.D. said. “Payton and I have decided to stay together.”

Payton heard an “awww” come from the crowd behind her in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Irma’s.

But Ben was not ready to be outplayed yet. He held up a sealed envelope. His trump card. “I’ve got a letter offering partnership that I think will change one of your minds.”

Neither Payton nor J.D. moved.

Ben looked between them, stunned. “Don’t you at least want to know who we chose?”

Hell, yes.
Payton wouldn’t deny that part of her was tempted to grab the envelope out of Ben’s hand and rip it open right there.

But.

She glanced over at J.D., who glanced over at her, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

Some questions were better left unanswered.

Realizing that neither of them was going to bite, Ben shoved the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. “You’re both fools,” he snapped.

“Yes. But only for not doing this earlier,” J.D. said.

“You shouldn’t have let it come to this, Ben. J.D. and I both deserve this,” Payton said. “And if this firm values strategic leveraging over the commitment we’ve shown over the last eight years, then, frankly,
you
don’t deserve
us
.”

J.D. peered down at her with that “amused” look. “Nice speech.”

“Thanks. I worked on it while you were on the phone.”

J.D. cocked his head in the direction of the hallway behind them. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” Unable to help herself, Payton’s eyes went to the pocket of Ben’s jacket where he had stashed the envelope.

J.D. laughed and held out his hand. “Come on, cupcake—let’s go.”

Payton threw him a look. “I can’t
believe
you just called me that in front of the entire office.”

She took his hand, and side by side they walked through the office corridor, past their offices, to the elevators and the exit.

J.D. smiled. “I told you, it’s endearing.”

“No, it’s paternalistic and quasi-sexist. I can’t think of one comparable name a woman can call a man.”

“I know. That’s what makes it so great.”

Et cetera.

AS SOON AS the doors shut, the office broke into complete pandemonium. Of primary concern, of course, was the betting pool, and how to address the issue of the double forfeiture.

The Kendall camp, led by Laney, duly noted that Payton’s statement to Ben had been “I resign,
too
,” evidencing that J.D. had, in fact, resigned first, thus making Payton the de facto winner, even if only for a few brief moments.

The Jameson faction, however—headed by Tyler and relying upon secretly procured hearsay testimony from one of the members of the Partnership Committee who had been inside Ben’s office—argued that although J.D. had
attempted
to resign first, Payton had demanded that said withdrawal of employment not be accepted, thus her statement to Ben of “
I resign
, too” was, in fact, the first and only official resignation, making J.D. the winner.

In the midst of the chaos, Marie, Ben’s secretary, walked up to him and whispered that he had a phone call.

“Take a message,” Ben barked. Whoever it was, it could wait.

Marie looked uncertain. “He insisted on speaking with you immediately.”

Ben wasn’t in the mood. “Deal with it, whoever it is,” he said, brushing past her.

“It’s Jasper Conroy.”

Ben stopped in his tracks.

They couldn’t have.

He nodded to Marie. “I’ll take it.” Not wanting to waste another minute, he headed into his office. He saw the blinking light on his phone and immediately picked up the receiver.

“Jasper! Good to hear from you. How are things down in Palm Beach?”

Jasper’s drawl came over the other end of the line. “Ben—glad I caught ya. Listen, I’ve been thinking lately about doing a little restructuring of Gibson’s trial team . . . I’m concerned that we’re leveraged a little too heavily on the
lawyer
side. So I’ve decided to take my business elsewhere, to a smaller firm.”

Ben looked up at the ceiling. “And who might that be?”

“A new outfit, actually. Just got the call today, sayin’ that they’re open for business.”

“Jasper, you can’t seriously be con—”

“Loyalty, Ben—I wouldn’t have gotten where I am today without it. That’s something you might want to look into.”

“Don’t be an idiot just to prove a point, Jasper. You can’t hand them over a two-hundred-million-dollar case.”

“Oh, I think I can,” Jasper said. “I told you, I’ve got a feelin’ about those two. I think you’re gonna be seeing big, big things from them.” He chuckled. “Catch you around, Ben. Oh, yeah—and thanks for the introduction.”

Ben heard the click as Jasper hung up. He set the phone back in its cradle and stared at it.

They really did it.

Son of a bitch.

AS SOON AS the elevator doors shut behind them, Payton faced J.D., rubbing her hands together eagerly. “So. We’re going to have to hire associates right away. How many do you think we need to start? Five?”

“Ten.”

“Hmm . . . you’re probably right,” she mused. “I certainly don’t plan for Jasper to be our only client for long. As soon as we file a motion to substitute counsel for Gibson’s, people will want to know who we are.”

J.D. leaned back against the elevator railing. “We can release a short press statement with our contact information.”

“Which means we also need office space and an administrative staff,” Payton noted.

“I’m sure we can get Irma and Kathy to come over—they’ll be enough to cover us for the short term.”

Payton nodded. “Yes. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

J.D. raised an eyebrow. “Any second thoughts?”

Payton shook her head definitively. “None.” A lot had happened in the last few minutes and she was still trying to process it all. She reached up and tugged the lapels of J.D.’s suit. “You’re so calm.”

“And I plan to stay that way, at least for the next few weeks. Not that I think that will be particularly difficult, considering where we’re going.”

“Where we’re going?” Payton repeated. “Ooh . . . where
are
we going?”

“Have you forgotten?” J.D. asked. “You made partner—albeit of a different firm—but you said it’s what you wanted.”

Payton had to think. Then it clicked. “Bora-Bora?”

J.D. grinned. “And I’m laying down the law right now: there will be absolutely no voice mail, email, BlackBerrys, or laptops.”

“Wow. What are we going to do with all that free time?”

J.D. gripped Payton’s suit jacket and pulled her closer. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

Payton slid her arms around his neck. “As long as we actually make it into the water this time.”

“I’m sure we can manage that.” J.D. said with a grin. “I hear those overwater bungalows are very private.”

“An overwater bungalow?” Payton asked. Criminy, she had forgotten about the Jameson style of doing things. “I don’t think I even want to know how much something like that costs per night.”

J.D. pulled back and looked her in the eyes. “All right, Payton—let’s just deal with this now, get it out of the way. You know the estimates as well as I do—Gibson’s legal fees for the first year alone are expected to be somewhere around twenty million dollars. And now, thanks to our brilliant maneuver—which was, for the record, initiated by me—there are only
two
partners who will split those fees. You and I.” He took her by the shoulders. “Which means that you are going to be a very,
very
rich woman, Payton Kendall.”

Payton stared at J.D. as this sank in. Of course she had known that landing Gibson’s as a client was a coup for the two of them. But she’d been so caught up in what was happening between her and J.D. that she hadn’t stopped and done the math on just exactly
how
great a coup it had been.

She and J.D. would be splitting nearly $20 million in legal fees in the first year alone.

Sure, there would be business expenses, associate and administrative staff salaries, office overhead, et cetera. But still.

Twenty million in legal fees.

Twenty million
.

J.D. grinned. “Say something, Payton.”

She closed her eyes and groaned. “My mother’s going to kill me.”

J.D. laughed at that. “Buy her a thousand carbon credits. She’ll get over it.”

The elevator came to a stop, and as the doors opened, he took Payton’s hand and stepped out. They cut across the parking garage to J.D.’s car. “And if that doesn’t work, then
I
will talk to your mother and smooth things over,” he said assuredly.

They stopped at the Bentley. J.D. unlocked the car and opened the passenger door.

Payton grinned as she started to climb in. “I love you for your confidence, J.D. As misplaced as it might be in this particular situation.”

J.D. suddenly blocked her with his arm.

Payton looked back, surprised.

He cocked his head. “What did you just say?”

Payton tried to think. “What? What did I just—ohhh . . .” She covered her mouth. “I said it, didn’t I?”

“I’m not sure,” J.D. said. “There was a lot of other rambling going on there. Could you repeat it?”

Payton feigned nonchalance. “Is that necessary? I mean, don’t they say that actions speak louder than words?”

With a look—probably the one that was constantly getting him in trouble—J.D. took a step closer to her. “And what actions might those be?”

Payton was suddenly aware that she was trapped between J.D. and the Bentley. This was typically the part where
both
of them got into trouble.

“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t have walked out of the firm if I didn’t have at least
some
feelings for you,” she pointed out.

“You could’ve done that because it was a smart move for your career,” J.D. said.

“True, true,” Payton conceded. “But I’m going to Bora-Bora with you—that says something, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe you’re just using me for sex.”

“That is a possibility . . .” Payton mused. She held out her hands. “There has to be
something
I can point to. Wait, I know—”

She touched J.D.’s face. “What about the fact that, through the good and the bad, you are pretty much the only man I’ve thought about for the past eight years? Does that say anything?”

J.D. gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think it does.”

“Good. Or instead, what if I just told you that I love you?” Payton gazed into his eyes. “What would you say, J. D. Jameson, if I told you that?” J.D. smiled. He touched his forehead to Payton’s, closed his eyes, and answered her with one word.

“Finally.”