Julie James: Practice Makes Perfect

Payton watched in amusement as Laney quickly downed the rest of her drink. Then she set the glass down and peered over.

“The shower trick. Let’s hear it, Kendall.”

ONE DAY LEFT.

Payton’s worries over what to say the first time she ran into J.D. at work on Monday had been needless. While things may have changed for the two of them over the weekend, life at the firm remained constant, business as usual, which meant that she barely had time for lunch, let alone a stroll across the hall for a tête-à-tête.

It didn’t help that Irma was uncharacteristically anxious and jumpy. As if suddenly realizing it could be their last full day working together, Payton’s secretary had dropped by her office every fifteen minutes, asking what else she could do to “help.”

“Seriously, Irma—you’re making me nervous,” Payton said after the tenth drop-in.

“Don’t you need me to get started on your travel reimbursements from the weekend?” Irma wore the I’m-worried-but-trying-not-to-show-it expression someone had when distracting a friend who’d just had serious medical tests.

“Yes—thanks for the reminder. Here you go.” Payton handed her the pile of receipts from the weekend—the ones she was seeking reimbursement for, that is.

Irma nodded, appearing appeased by the busywork, and left Payton’s office.

She was back in five minutes.

“These reimbursements don’t make any sense.” Irma leafed through the receipts. “The receipt from the airline says that your return flight was Sunday, but you’ve only submitted a hotel bill for Friday night.”

Pesky industrious secretary. Sitting at her desk, Payton tried to keep her expression indifferent. “I decided to stay an extra night. I’m not billing the client for that.”

“An extra night?” Irma asked, confused.

“I . . . decided to relax for a day.”

At first, Irma looked surprised, then she nodded approvingly. “Really, Payton—whatever’s gotten into you these past few weeks, I like it.” She pointed, suddenly remembering. “I forgot your time sheets. I’ll be right back with them.”

“That’s okay,” Payton said, getting up. “I can sign them at your desk.” This was code for setting up a potential just-happened-to-be-walking-by drop-in on J.D.

Payton followed Irma to her desk, where she skimmed through her completed time sheets. She was on the last one when she heard Kathy call out from the desk next to Irma’s.

“Oh, good, J.D., you’re here. Do you have a minute?”

When Payton heard J.D.’s reply coming from behind her, she willed herself to be cool and casual. After all, they had been performing for audiences for years. This shouldn’t be any different.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing next to her. Shit—it was totally different. Wehadsexwehadsexwehadsex.

“Hello, Payton,” he said.

“Hello, J.D.,” she replied in the same innocuous tone.

Kathy riffled through the papers she held, thankfully paying little attention to their awkward interaction. “I’m confused about these travel receipts,” she said to J.D., “particularly the receipt from the hotel. I know you said that I should submit a reimbursement for Friday night at the regular room rate, which I did, but don’t you need to be reimbursed for two nights? You didn’t come back until Sunday.”

Certain she was blushing, Payton didn’t dare look up from the time sheet she was reviewing at Irma’s desk.

“The second night was personal travel. I’ll take care of that myself,” J.D. said.

“Personal travel?” Kathy repeated, surprised.

Out of the corner of her eye, Payton could see that Irma was listening intently to their conversation. She decided that now would be an extremely good time to return to her office.

“I decided to stay and golf,” she heard J.D. say to Kathy. “You know, take a day to . . . relax.”

“Oh. My. God. ”

Payton stopped in the doorway to her office, turned around, and saw Irma staring at J.D. with her mouth hanging open in shock.

Irma’s wide eyes darted over to Payton. She covered her mouth. “Oh, my god,” she repeated, giggling.

Payton crossed to her secretary’s desk. “Irma, can I see you in my office? Now? ”

Nodding, still with the Cheshire-cat grin, Irma followed Payton into her office. She kept her hand over her mouth as if fearing what might come tumbling out.

Payton closed the door behind them and turned to face Irma. “Whatever you think you just learned, I need to ask you to keep that information to yourself.”

Irma took her hand away from her mouth. “At least I know what’s gotten into you lately. Literally.”

“All righty then,” Payton said in response to the not-at-all-subtle innuendo. “Wow, I really don’t know where to go from there.”

“You and J.D. did the deed .” Irma lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oooh . . . was it angry sex?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Does that mean it’s serious between you two?” Irma asked.

But Payton remained firm on this. “Irma, I need you to do this favor for me. Please—don’t ask me any more questions, because you know I can’t answer them. And please don’t say anything to anyone about what you heard. You know how bad office gossip can get.”

Seeing how important this was to Payton, Irma sighed. “ Fine. ”

Payton smiled. “Thank you.” She knew how difficult it was for her secretary to bite her tongue about anything, let alone something as juicy as this.

Irma nodded, sizing Payton up with a look. “Boy, you two really decided to go out with a bang, didn’t you?”

“Irma—”

“Sorry. It was just too easy to pass up.”

AT THE END of the day, Irma dropped by Payton’s office on her way out. She held a midsized box in her hands.

“The mail room sent this up while you were on your conference call,” she said. “They needed someone to sign for it, so I went ahead and took care of that.” She set the box on Payton’s desk. “Can I see them?”

Distracted, Payton glanced over from her computer. “Can you see who?”

Irma gestured to the box. “The shoes you ordered.”

“I didn’t order any shoes.”

Irma pointed to the return address label. “Tell that to Jimmy Choo.”

Payton picked up the box and opened it. She sifted through about twenty pounds of tissue paper, which of course led to another, smaller box. When she opened that, she discovered a new pair of black heels.

Irma leaned over to inspect them. “Don’t you already have a pair like that?”

“I used to. I broke one of the heels,” Payton said.

“Oh, right . . . when you ripped your skirt in court. A friend of mine works in the clerk’s office, and she said everyone talked about that for weeks.” Irma looked Payton over. “That must’ve been really embarrassing.”

“Yes, thank you, Irma, it was.”

“She also said that the thing they talked about most was how well you handled it. She called you a true professional.”

Irma’s expression turned proud. “Whatever they tell you tomorrow, Payton, you can walk out of here with your head held high. I couldn’t have asked to work with a better lawyer these past eight years.”

Payton found herself a little misty-eyed. Everyone was getting so damn mushy these days. “Thanks, Irma.”

“Of course, if you could somehow manage to walk out of here with your buns still in your skirt, that probably would be best.”

Payton laughed. With a quick wave good-bye, Irma turned and headed out the door.

Once alone in her office, Payton picked up the box and pulled out the small envelope that had been tucked inside with the shoes. She opened the card and smiled when she read it.