Practice Makes Perfect(55)
“I don’t mean to be rude, Chase, but I really have to get back to the office,” she said. “As a last-ditch effort, the plaintiff moved to strike some of our jury instructions and the judge wants to hear our arguments tomorrow,” she explained. “So is this why you asked me to meet you here? To talk about J.D.?”
Chase shook his head. “Actually, I wanted to talk about us. Look—you obviously have a lot going on with work right now, and maybe that’s all it is, but I was thinking about you last night, that I wanted to do something nice for you, something to take your mind off of things. But then it hit me, that I wasn’t sure you actually wanted me to take your mind off of things, that maybe all you want is to be focused on your job—and that’s great, Payton, don’t get me wrong—but . . .”
He hesitated, his brown eyes full of questions. “Is that really all it is? Because I can wait out these last few days until your firm makes its partnership decisions, but if it’s more than that, then . . . maybe it just would be better if I backed off now.”
At first, Payton didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t ready to have this conversation, at least not now, anyway. She took a deep breath.
“I blindsided you with this, didn’t I?” Chase asked, grinning sheepishly.
“Yes, you could say that,” Payton said, exhaling with a nervous laugh.
Chase reached across the table and took her hand. “Look, we don’t need to finish this conversation right now. I just thought this was something I needed to say. And I hate talking about these things over the phone.”
Payton nodded. She probably was a fool to not immediately say, no, of course she didn’t want him to back off. But Chase was right: she needed to think before she answered him. Right now, she was confused and—while she hated to admit it—fighting the urge to check her watch. But since he had brought up the subject, she responded as honestly as she could. He deserved that at least.
“This trial is the last thing the firm will judge me on before making its partnership decision,” she told him. “I get that you have questions, but it’s hard for me to focus on anything else right now. But it will be over in two days. If you could just wait until then, I promise that we’ll sit down and really talk.”
Chase smiled and said he understood.
Funny, Payton thought. Because she personally had no clue what she was doing.
BACK IN THE office.
Again.
Sometimes, she felt like she never left the place. Probably because she rarely did.
It was nearly seven o’clock, which meant the secretaries were gone and the office was quiet. When Payton got to her office, she saw that Brandon had left three stacks of cases on her desk for her review—the results of his research into each of the three jury instructions the plaintiff had challenged. Unfortunately for Payton, each pile was at least two inches thick, which meant her chances of leaving the office anytime soon were nonexistent to none.
She had just barely begun to tackle the first mound of cases when she heard a knock on her door. She glanced up and saw Laney.
“Hey—why are you still here?” Payton asked. She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “I thought tonight was the big night.” Laney—so Payton had learned yesterday in a conversation that included entirely too much information—was ovulating tonight. She had planned to leave early and surprise Nate. Et cetera.
“I’m on my way out,” Laney said. “What time are you leaving for the cocktail hour?”
Payton frowned, confused. “The cocktail hour?” She smacked her forehead, suddenly remembering. “Shit—the cocktail hour!”
Every June, the litigation group hosted a cocktail hour to welcome that year’s crop of summer associates, and all lawyers in the group were “strongly encouraged” to attend. With everything going on, she had completely forgotten that the party was tonight. She had set a reminder on her computer’s daily planner that must’ve gone off while she was at the Fixx with Chase.
Crap.
With a groan, Payton rubbed her forehead. “I’m not going to be able to go to the cocktail hour tonight.” She gestured to the five and a half inches of cases on her desk that she still needed to read. “I’ve got too much work to do.” She sighed. Poor Cinderella. Couldn’t go to the ball because she had to read up on evidentiary limitations of the Ellerth/ Faragher affirmative defense standards.
“But you need to go,” Laney urged her. She nodded subtly in the direction of J.D.’s office. “You know he’s going to be working the crowd, schmoozing with Ben and everyone else on the Partnership Committee. You have to be there, too.”
Payton suddenly felt very tired of the whole ordeal of competing against J.D. If the Partnership Committee’s decision was at all based on who scored more face time at the litigation group cocktail hour, then, frankly, they were a bunch of ass**les.
“As much as I really hate to miss out on the opportunity to give a series of peppy, come-work-for-our-firm, of-course-I-never-bill-more-than-two-thousand-hours recruitment speeches to a bunch of summer associates who clearly have no clue that they’re about to sign away their lives, I’m going to have to pass tonight.”
Laney stared at Payton, surprised. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you bad-mouth the firm before. You’re normally so party line.” She nodded approvingly. “Good for you. I’ll tell you what—I’ll stay and help you read through those cases, and maybe you’ll be able to catch the end of the cocktail party.”