Practice Makes Perfect
Page 49
J.D. grinned. Say something sarcastic? Who, him? While he and Chase hadn’t hung out regularly in law school, he liked the guy well enough. He could sum up Chase Bellamy in one word: harmless. A bit of a liberal do-gooder, and maybe too agreeably passive in J.D.’s mind, but harmless. He remembered a strident debate he and Chase had once gotten into in their Constitutional Law class, over the Second Amendment’s right to bear arms. What he recalled most distinctly about that debate was that Chase had given up far too easily.
“So the last I heard, you were in D.C. working on a campaign,” J.D. said. “Are you living in Chicago now?”
Chase nodded. “I just moved here a few months ago—I’m doing pro bono work with the Chicago Legal Clinic.”
J.D. smiled. Of course he was. He introduced Tyler, who had been in the law school class below them. The three of them quickly fell into talk about work.
“So what about you? Where did you end up?” Chase asked.
“Ripley and Davis,” J.D. told him.
A look of recognition crossed Chase’s face. J.D. assumed this to be an acknowledgment of the prestige of his firm, until Chase remarked, “Oh, I know someone else who works there. Are you in corporate or litigation?”
“Litigation.”
“Then you probably know her—Payton Kendall?”
“Sure, I know Payton.” J.D. grinned. Funny. Small world. “How do you know her?” he asked. Strange, he hadn’t meant for his tone to sound so proprietary.
Now Chase grinned. “Actually . . . we’re dating.”
J.D. probably would’ve been less stunned if Chase had hauled off and punched him straight in the gut. He cocked his head. “Wait—Payton Kendall?” As if there were just too many Paytons floating around the litigation group to keep track of.
“Yes, Payton Kendall.” Chase looked him over curiously. “You seem a bit surprised.”
It didn’t matter, J.D. told himself. Really. He was fine with it.
He shook off Chase’s question. “No, not at all. Why would I be surprised? You and Payton have a lot in common. Good. Yes. That’s great. Tyler, did you hear that? Chase here is dating Payton Kendall. You know Payton, don’t you?”
Tyler gave J.D. a look that said he quickly needed to shut up.
Too late. Chase seemed to suspect something. “Wait a second . . . I just realized what’s going on here. You’re the competition.”
“The competition?” J.D. asked loudly. “Why, whatever do you mean?” Christ, now he sounded like he was doing bad dinner theater. He needed to pull his shit together.
“Payton didn’t mention any names, but she told me there was stiff competition in her bid to make partner,” Chase said.
J.D. blinked. Oh . . . competition for the partnership. Of course.
“You’re in the same class as her,” Chase continued. “It’s you she’s talking about, isn’t it?”
A few weeks ago, J.D. would’ve been pleased to hear Payton describe him as “stiff competition.” But now he had thought things were different.
But why was Chase asking him about this, anyway? This was his personal business with Payton. No one else’s.
“Payton and I are both up for partner this year, yes,” was all J.D. said.
But then he wondered just how much Chase knew about recent events. He could only imagine how Payton might have described certain situations—in particular, certain situations involving, say, a shoe and perhaps a couple of peeky-cheeks—to outside third parties. And if Chase did know about said certain situations, well . . .
J.D. did a quick assessment. Chase appeared to be about five-ten, maybe one-sixty, one-sixty-five pounds. No problem. If the little tree-hugger started swinging, coming in at a lean six-two, J.D. was quite certain he could hold his own.
But Chase, being Chase, merely grinned good-naturedly. “Well, Jameson, I’d love to wish you luck in making partner, but I guess I have a conflict of interest.” With that, he stuck out his hand. “It was good seeing you, J.D.”
Harmless, easygoing Chase Bellamy. He really was the kind of guy no one could find fault with. The kind of guy who never got angry or annoyed. The kind of guy who preferred to amiably let things roll off his back rather than stick it out and fight. The kind of guy that Payton liked, apparently.
And J.D. knew that he was not that kind of guy.
Furthermore, he would never be that kind of guy. Frankly, he didn’t want to be that kind of guy. He just wasn’t wired that way.
So with that in mind, he shook Chase’s hand firmly.
“It was good seeing you, too, Chase,” J.D. said. “And good luck. With everything.” He even managed a polite smile.
After all, while he might not be the kind of guy Chase was, he could at least still be a gentleman.
J.D. AND TYLER waited outside the bar, trying to catch a cab. In addition to being unseasonably cool that evening, it had begun to rain, and finding an available taxi was proving to be a challenge.
Tyler hadn’t brought up the subject of Payton since their conversation with Chase and for that, J.D. was grateful. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about her right then. He needed to sort through his thoughts, to process this new development that she was dating someone, and figure out exactly what that meant. If it meant anything.
An open cab finally pulled around the corner, and J.D. and Tyler agreed to share it. As the cab pulled away from the curb, J.D. glanced out the window and saw everyone running in the rain with their collars turned up and purses over their heads. The weatherman had predicted a cool and clear evening, so now people were scrambling.
“So the last I heard, you were in D.C. working on a campaign,” J.D. said. “Are you living in Chicago now?”
Chase nodded. “I just moved here a few months ago—I’m doing pro bono work with the Chicago Legal Clinic.”
J.D. smiled. Of course he was. He introduced Tyler, who had been in the law school class below them. The three of them quickly fell into talk about work.
“So what about you? Where did you end up?” Chase asked.
“Ripley and Davis,” J.D. told him.
A look of recognition crossed Chase’s face. J.D. assumed this to be an acknowledgment of the prestige of his firm, until Chase remarked, “Oh, I know someone else who works there. Are you in corporate or litigation?”
“Litigation.”
“Then you probably know her—Payton Kendall?”
“Sure, I know Payton.” J.D. grinned. Funny. Small world. “How do you know her?” he asked. Strange, he hadn’t meant for his tone to sound so proprietary.
Now Chase grinned. “Actually . . . we’re dating.”
J.D. probably would’ve been less stunned if Chase had hauled off and punched him straight in the gut. He cocked his head. “Wait—Payton Kendall?” As if there were just too many Paytons floating around the litigation group to keep track of.
“Yes, Payton Kendall.” Chase looked him over curiously. “You seem a bit surprised.”
It didn’t matter, J.D. told himself. Really. He was fine with it.
He shook off Chase’s question. “No, not at all. Why would I be surprised? You and Payton have a lot in common. Good. Yes. That’s great. Tyler, did you hear that? Chase here is dating Payton Kendall. You know Payton, don’t you?”
Tyler gave J.D. a look that said he quickly needed to shut up.
Too late. Chase seemed to suspect something. “Wait a second . . . I just realized what’s going on here. You’re the competition.”
“The competition?” J.D. asked loudly. “Why, whatever do you mean?” Christ, now he sounded like he was doing bad dinner theater. He needed to pull his shit together.
“Payton didn’t mention any names, but she told me there was stiff competition in her bid to make partner,” Chase said.
J.D. blinked. Oh . . . competition for the partnership. Of course.
“You’re in the same class as her,” Chase continued. “It’s you she’s talking about, isn’t it?”
A few weeks ago, J.D. would’ve been pleased to hear Payton describe him as “stiff competition.” But now he had thought things were different.
But why was Chase asking him about this, anyway? This was his personal business with Payton. No one else’s.
“Payton and I are both up for partner this year, yes,” was all J.D. said.
But then he wondered just how much Chase knew about recent events. He could only imagine how Payton might have described certain situations—in particular, certain situations involving, say, a shoe and perhaps a couple of peeky-cheeks—to outside third parties. And if Chase did know about said certain situations, well . . .
J.D. did a quick assessment. Chase appeared to be about five-ten, maybe one-sixty, one-sixty-five pounds. No problem. If the little tree-hugger started swinging, coming in at a lean six-two, J.D. was quite certain he could hold his own.
But Chase, being Chase, merely grinned good-naturedly. “Well, Jameson, I’d love to wish you luck in making partner, but I guess I have a conflict of interest.” With that, he stuck out his hand. “It was good seeing you, J.D.”
Harmless, easygoing Chase Bellamy. He really was the kind of guy no one could find fault with. The kind of guy who never got angry or annoyed. The kind of guy who preferred to amiably let things roll off his back rather than stick it out and fight. The kind of guy that Payton liked, apparently.
And J.D. knew that he was not that kind of guy.
Furthermore, he would never be that kind of guy. Frankly, he didn’t want to be that kind of guy. He just wasn’t wired that way.
So with that in mind, he shook Chase’s hand firmly.
“It was good seeing you, too, Chase,” J.D. said. “And good luck. With everything.” He even managed a polite smile.
After all, while he might not be the kind of guy Chase was, he could at least still be a gentleman.
J.D. AND TYLER waited outside the bar, trying to catch a cab. In addition to being unseasonably cool that evening, it had begun to rain, and finding an available taxi was proving to be a challenge.
Tyler hadn’t brought up the subject of Payton since their conversation with Chase and for that, J.D. was grateful. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about her right then. He needed to sort through his thoughts, to process this new development that she was dating someone, and figure out exactly what that meant. If it meant anything.
An open cab finally pulled around the corner, and J.D. and Tyler agreed to share it. As the cab pulled away from the curb, J.D. glanced out the window and saw everyone running in the rain with their collars turned up and purses over their heads. The weatherman had predicted a cool and clear evening, so now people were scrambling.
