Practice Makes Perfect(24)

“Payton,” he said.

She feigned disinterest, peering up from her book. “Doing a little research, J.D.?”

“Of course not,” he said. “And neither are you. I followed you here.” He glanced around. “Strange—I thought this was an accounting floor.”

Payton climbed down from the step stool, still striving for nonchalance. “You followed me here? Any particular reason?”

J.D. seemed embarrassed by the question. “I saw you run out of your office. After our meeting with Ben, I thought that maybe you, well . . .” he trailed off awkwardly.

Great, Payton realized. Exactly what she needed—J.D.’s pity. She suddenly felt tears threatening once again.

“I’m fine,” Payton said, turning her back to him. “Really.”

She felt J.D.’s hand on her shoulder. “Don’t do this, Payton,” he said in a soft voice.

It was too much, hearing J.D. speak like that. She needed to make him stop. She forced herself to look indifferent as she turned around. “What do you want, J.D.? Because I was thinking, for once, that maybe you could just back off.”

J.D.’s face hardened at her words, which unfortunately had come out sounding harsher than she’d meant them to.

He pulled back and folded his arms over his chest. “Well, somebody sure seems a little tense. You wouldn’t be worried about this decision, would you?”

Payton feigned confidence. “No.”

“No?”

She raised her chin stubbornly. “No.”

A look of worry crossed J.D.’s face. “You know already,” he stated woodenly. “You know they’re going to choose you.”

“I know that if the firm goes by merit, they’ll pick me,” Payton said.

J.D. narrowed the gap between them in one stride. “You really think you’re that much better than me?”

Payton stood her ground. “Yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “Please—if the firm picks you, we both know the reason.”

Payton smirked at this. “What reason is that? My ‘girls’?”

J.D. shrugged. “You said it.”

“Bullshit,” Payton said. “You, Ben, and pretty much every other man at this firm are all one big team—you all went to the same Ivy League schools; you’re all members of the same country clubs. And tell me, J.D.—how many of Daddy’s CEO friends did you promise you could bring in as clients? I bet the members of the Partnership Committee are just foaming at the mouth at the thought of the money you’ll bring in with your connections. Or your father’s connections, I should say.”

She was being mean, really mean, and she knew it. But Payton couldn’t seem to stop herself—the floodgates had opened and all the emotions of the last twenty minutes were pouring out.

She saw J.D.’s eyes flash with anger. “Oh, but what about what you can give them, Payton?”

“This should be good. Enlighten me.”

“Diversity. If they chose you, the Partnership Committee can pat themselves on the back for hiring the right demographic.”

With a loud slam, Payton threw the book she had been holding onto the shelf next to her. Dust flew everywhere, including onto the sleeve of J.D.’s jacket. “Diversity?” she repeated incredulously. “Why don’t you look around this firm sometime—everyone here is just like you, J.D. White with a penis.”

Ignoring this, J.D. pointed to the dust on his sleeve. “Take it easy on the suit, cupcake. This was hand-tailored in London.”

“Oh—I’m sorry. I guess you’ll just have to pick up another one the next time you visit Her Majesty for tea. Isn’t she another friend of the family?” Angrily, Payton shoved J.D. out of her way and stormed through the stacks.

J.D. followed after her. “Are you saying I don’t deserve this?” he demanded. “I’ve billed over twenty-nine hundred hours for the past eight years!”

Payton whipped around. “So have I! And the only difference between you and me is that statistics say you’re more likely to keep it up. The firm doesn’t worry that one day you’ll decide you want to leave at five to kiss your kids good night.”

J.D. stepped closer to her. Then closer again, literally trapping her against the bookshelves.

“Spare me the feminist rant, Payton. It’s getting a little tired. I’ve had to work my ass off to get where I am, while you had your ticket written from the minute you stepped into this firm.”

Payton felt her face flush with anger. “Really? Well, you know what I think, J.D.?” She jabbed his chest with one of her fingers. “I think that you are an uptight, pony-owning, trickle-down-economics-loving, Scotch-on-the-rocks-drinking, my-wife-better-take-my-last-name sexist jerk!”

J.D. grabbed her hand and pulled it away. “Well, at least I’m not a stubborn, button-pushing, Prius-driving, chip-on-your-shoulder-holding, ‘stay-at-home-mom’-is-the-eighth-dirty-word-thinking feminazi!”

He had her pressed against the bookshelves, his body against hers, her hand pinned to her side as he glared down at her. She glared up at him right back.

He was furious. So was she.

Neither of them moved. And in that moment, the strangest thought popped into Payton’s head.