Practice Makes Perfect(28)
Standing nearby, Payton was certain J.D.’s comment was primarily for her benefit. So she turned to Helen, another senior partner who also “just happened” to be on the Partnership Committee, and said she had heard that Helen’s daughter was applying for law school at the University of Illinois, Payton’s alma mater.
“It’s a wonderful school, and such a good bargain with in-state tuition,” Payton said.
Helen nodded, agreeing with this. “I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that she gets in. She didn’t do quite as well on the LSAT as she had hoped.”
“I’d be happy to write your daughter a recommendation,” Payton offered.
Out of nowhere, Laney was suddenly at Payton’s side.
“You definitely should take her up on that, Helen—they love Payton at that school. She’s too modest to tell you this, but did you know that Payton graduated first in her class and set a new record for the most perfect scores earned on final exams by any one student?”
Payton could’ve kissed Laney right there.
“Wow,” said Helen. She turned to Payton. “I am impressed. Maybe we could have lunch sometime this week, Payton? We could talk about that recommendation for my daughter. And who knows? Perhaps someday soon I’ll be able to return the favor . . .” She winked.
A few moments later, after Helen walked away, J.D. sauntered over to Payton and Laney. He clapped sarcastically.
“Well played, ladies.” J.D. looked Payton over. “But I wouldn’t book that flight to Bora-Bora yet, Kendall. It’s going to take a lot more than the vote of the one female on the Partnership Committee to win this.” He smiled. “I had already conceded that one to you, anyway.”
With that, he turned and confidently strolled out of the conference room. Payton and Laney watched him go.
Laney shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
Payton gestured. “See—I told you.”
“That man has such a great butt.”
“Laney!”
“What? I’m conservative, Payton, not blind.”
SOMEWHERE AROUND FIVE, the evening before her trial began, Payton reached her saturation point. She had prepared all her direct and cross-examinations, had practiced her opening statement, reviewed and taken notes on every witness’s deposition transcript, and had thoroughly prepared her client’s own witnesses for their testimonies. Now there was nothing left for her to do except to accept the fact that there was nothing left for her to do. Not an easy task, considering what she felt was riding on the outcome of this trial.
She needed a distraction. Left to her own devices, she would either drive herself crazy, worrying over insignificant minutiae, or she would start calling Brandon with questions, thus driving him crazy.
Laney was busy, Payton knew. Tonight, unbeknownst to Nate, her friend had prepared a PowerPoint presentation for her husband—complete with estimated income graphs, cost of living analyses, and a fertility projection—logically detailing all the reasons why they needed to start trying to have a baby now. And as for her other friends, Payton knew better than to call them—nothing was more annoying to a nonlawyer than to be stuck with one the night before a trial. Every sentence tended to start with, “So, if you were a juror on this case, what would you think if . . . ?”
There was, however, somebody who would be perfect company for the evening. She picked up the phone on her desk.
“Hi,” she said when he answered. “I know it’s short notice, but I thought I’d see if you happened to be free for dinner tonight.”
AN HOUR LATER, Payton waited in the lounge at DeLaCosta restaurant. She’d managed to score a bar table along the window with a view overlooking the canal.
She smiled as the Perfect Chase walked in, looking very dashing in his light summer sweater and dark brown pants.
He returned the smile as he took the seat across from her. “Sorry—my cab got stuck in traffic.”
The waitress approached to take his drink order.
“A Tom Collins,” Chase told her. “But, please—make sure there is absolutely no cherry in it.”
Payton nearly died of embarrassment right there. Oh, my god, she was going to kill Laney.
Chase laughed at the sheepish look on Payton’s face. “It’s okay, Payton. I don’t get offended easily.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his, lightly stroking his thumb across her fingers. “I’m just glad you called.”
Payton relaxed. It was pretty much impossible not to like Chase. He was so low maintenance, being with him felt . . . comfortable.
“I’m glad you could make it,” she told him. After all, comfortable was good.
Wasn’t it?
The waitress brought Chase his cherry-less drink and asked the two of them if they’d like to order appetizers.
Payton asked for a moment. She skimmed the menu, quickly searching for things without meat. She never looked forward to this part of her first dinner date with a guy; she hated coming off as fussy.
She saw Chase peeking over at her, seemingly a bit self-conscious himself. “In light of the whole cherry debacle, I almost hate to say this, but I should let you know that I’m a vegetarian.”
Payton set her menu down on the table in disbelief. “So am I!” She laughed. Funny coincidence.
“How long for you?” Chase asked.