Julie James: Practice Makes Perfect

“But before that, she came after you to tell you she wanted to be with you. There’s hope in that.”

J.D. took a sip of his beer. “Even if she could forgive me for the thing I told Ben, I think she’s right. At the very least, it’s going to be awkward between us after the firm’s decision. And there will be tension, lots of it. Maybe even resentment.” He switched his beer back and forth between his hands. “I don’t want to start something with her that’s destined to fail. That would be worse than not being with her at all, I think.”

Tyler shifted in his seat. “Have you considered . . .” he trailed off, uncertain whether he should even suggest such an idea.

“Yes.” J.D. had already considered the possibility, even though he couldn’t say it out loud. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I, uh . . . whew.” He took a deep breath. “I really don’t know that I could do that. Maybe if I knew it would make a difference. Maybe.”

“There’s no way of knowing that, J.D.”

“I’ve grasped that, yes.”

Tyler grabbed J.D.’s shoulder. “I wish there was more I could say, buddy. But I think you’re just going to have to ask yourself what you’re willing to risk for a chance to be with her. That’s really what it boils down to, isn’t it?”

J.D. took a moment to consider his friend’s words. “It’s not just the job, you know,” he finally said. “I’d like to at least walk out of there tomorrow with my pride. I’m not exactly good at putting myself out there.”

Tyler laughed. “You don’t say?”

“Do you have any advice that’s actually constructive? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy trite commentary and rhetorical questions as much as the next guy, but can you at least throw me a bone with something helpful?”

Tyler turned serious. “Listen—I can’t give you any advice on what to do about the thing you don’t know if you can do. Only you can make that decision. But in terms of whether you should put yourself out there, I’ll tell you this: If I was Payton, and I had overheard what you’d said to Ben, I wouldn’t even have bothered to give you the opportunity to explain yourself. I would’ve pulled out my white glove and slapped you across the face and walked away.”

“I just want to clarify—in this scenario, are we also in a Bugs Bunny cartoon?”

“It’s a metaphor, J.D.”

“I would guess so.”

“Fine, I’ll be more blunt: You don’t like to put yourself out there? Well, too bad. Fuck your pride—it’s the only chance you’ve got.”

“You’re asking me to sacrifice the two things that have probably most defined my entire adult life,” J.D. said.

“I’m not asking you to do anything,” Tyler told him. “I’m just telling you what I think has to happen if you want any chance of making things work with her.”

J.D. nodded and fell quiet. There really wasn’t anything else to say on the subject.

Like it or not, he knew Tyler was right.

PAYTON STARED OUT her office window.

She had just discovered that she had a view of the lake.

True, it wasn’t a good view. In fact, it wasn’t even a mediocre view, but if she looked to the right, there it was: breaking between two black skyscrapers, a narrow sliver where the crystalline water of Lake Michigan met the brighter, lighter blue of the summer sky.

Strange that she had never noticed that before. Then again, maybe not so strange—she hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time in her office gazing out the windows.

Laney had called and offered to wait with her, and though appreciative, Payton had declined. This morning was something she needed to face on her own. Besides, she wasn’t exactly good company right then.

As she’d already done several times, Payton checked the clock on her desk. She closed her eyes. Ten o’clock. Finally.

It was time.

As if on cue, she heard a knock on her door. Payton turned around, saw Irma through the glass, and nodded.

Irma stepped inside. “Ben said you can come down to his office now.”

Payton couldn’t help it—she glanced across the hall. She saw Kathy leave J.D.’s office, presumably having just told him the same thing. She could see J.D. through the glass and noticed that he appeared to be hesitating.

If he was waiting for her, thinking they would walk down to Ben’s office together, he was going to be waiting a long time. In light of what had happened yesterday, she had absolutely nothing to say to J. D. Jameson.

After a few moments, Payton saw him leave and turn down the hallway toward Ben’s office. She gave him a moment’s head start, then not wanting to delay any further, strode out of her office with what she hoped was an expression of optimistic confidence. Even if she didn’t feel it, she was determined to look the part.

When she got to Ben’s office, she found not only the head litigation partner there but also the other six members of the firm’s Partnership Committee. They sat in chairs flanking Ben’s desk, forming a semicircle with him in the middle. Two empty chairs had been placed in front of the partners, presumably for her and J.D.

“Come on in, Payton,” Ben called from his desk.

Surprised to see both chairs empty, Payton looked around and saw J.D. standing off to the side of the room. He looked up as she entered and for a moment, Payton was tempted to avert her gaze. Then she thought— The hell with that —and stared him straight in the eyes. With her head held high, she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Ben’s desk.

Ben glanced over. “J.D.?”

Payton kept her gaze fixed on the partners as J.D. took the seat next to her.

“Payton, J.D.—you obviously know why we brought you here,” Ben began.

Out of the corner of her eye, Payton could see J.D. glance in her direction.

“We know how important this is to both of you, how much dedication each of you has shown to the firm. All of us on the Partnership Committee deeply regret the circumstances that have forced us to make this choice.”

Payton could feel J.D.’s eyes rest on her as Ben continued.

“You’re both very talented lawyers, and that has made our decision extremely difficult. Nevertheless, it was a decision we had to make, and we have done so.”

Payton could see J.D. shift again in his chair, and she noticed that he bounced his leg nervously. Finally, unable to resist, she looked over.

As if he’d been waiting for just that, J.D. held her gaze. His eyes searched hers, and he had an expression on his face that she had never seen before. One of uncertainty.

Then something happened. Payton saw a flash in his eyes, and he clenched his jaw.

“All right, Payton,” he said. “Fuck it.”

He turned to Ben.

“I quit.”

Payton’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

That was the collective reply from pretty much everyone in the room.

J.D. stood up from his chair. “I resign. Effective immediately.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Payton told him.

J.D. looked down at her. “Yes, I do .”

Now Payton stood up, too. “No, really, you don’t .” She turned to Ben. “Ignore him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Anyone who knows J.D. knows he’s willing to do anything to get this.”

J.D. moved to her side, speaking in a lower voice. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“No.”

“Thanks.” Without further ado, he took her by the elbow and led her to the corner of the room.

When they got there, Payton folded her arms across her chest and lowered her voice so that only he could hear. “How dare you even think about trying this,” she hissed. “I told you before, I won’t win by default.”