Practice Makes Perfect
Page 83
Twenty-eight
WHEN THE DOOR opened and Payton and J.D. stepped out, the crowd that had gathered in front of the office immediately quieted down.
Front and center stood Ben, who walked over to them with a look that said he was thoroughly annoyed. “Are we done with the theatrics now? Can we finally finish this?”
Payton nodded. “Actually, Ben, we are finished with this. Because I resign, too.”
She could’ve sworn she heard several people gasp.
Ben’s eyes narrowed. He glanced between her and J.D. “What sort of bullshit is this? You’re both resigning?”
“Sorry, Ben. But you forced our hand,” J.D. said. “Payton and I have decided to stay together.”
Payton heard an “awww” come from the crowd behind her in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Irma’s.
But Ben was not ready to be outplayed yet. He held up a sealed envelope. His trump card. “I’ve got a letter offering partnership that I think will change one of your minds.”
Neither Payton nor J.D. moved.
Ben looked between them, stunned. “Don’t you at least want to know who we chose?”
Hell, yes. Payton wouldn’t deny that part of her was tempted to grab the envelope out of Ben’s hand and rip it open right there.
But.
She glanced over at J.D., who glanced over at her, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.
Some questions were better left unanswered.
Realizing that neither of them was going to bite, Ben shoved the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. “You’re both fools,” he snapped.
“Yes. But only for not doing this earlier,” J.D. said.
“You shouldn’t have let it come to this, Ben. J.D. and I both deserve this,” Payton said. “And if this firm values strategic leveraging over the commitment we’ve shown over the last eight years, then, frankly, you don’t deserve us.”
J.D. peered down at her with that “amused” look. “Nice speech.”
“Thanks. I worked on it while you were on the phone.”
J.D. cocked his head in the direction of the hallway behind them. “Shall we?”
“Yes.” Unable to help herself, Payton’s eyes went to the pocket of Ben’s jacket where he had stashed the envelope.
J.D. laughed and held out his hand. “Come on, cupcake—let’s go.”
Payton threw him a look. “I can’t believe you just called me that in front of the entire office.”
She took his hand, and side by side they walked through the office corridor, past their offices, to the elevators and the exit.
J.D. smiled. “I told you, it’s endearing.”
“No, it’s paternalistic and quasi-sexist. I can’t think of one comparable name a woman can call a man.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so great.”
Et cetera.
AS SOON AS the doors shut, the office broke into complete pandemonium. Of primary concern, of course, was the betting pool, and how to address the issue of the double forfeiture.
The Kendall camp, led by Laney, duly noted that Payton’s statement to Ben had been “I resign, too,” evidencing that J.D. had, in fact, resigned first, thus making Payton the de facto winner, even if only for a few brief moments.
The Jameson faction, however—headed by Tyler and relying upon secretly procured hearsay testimony from one of the members of the Partnership Committee who had been inside Ben’s office—argued that although J.D. had attempted to resign first, Payton had demanded that said withdrawal of employment not be accepted, thus her statement to Ben of “I resign, too” was, in fact, the first and only official resignation, making J.D. the winner.
In the midst of the chaos, Marie, Ben’s secretary, walked up to him and whispered that he had a phone call.
“Take a message,” Ben barked. Whoever it was, it could wait.
Marie looked uncertain. “He insisted on speaking with you immediately.”
Ben wasn’t in the mood. “Deal with it, whoever it is,” he said, brushing past her.
“It’s Jasper Conroy.”
Ben stopped in his tracks.
They couldn’t have.
He nodded to Marie. “I’ll take it.” Not wanting to waste another minute, he headed into his office. He saw the blinking light on his phone and immediately picked up the receiver.
“Jasper! Good to hear from you. How are things down in Palm Beach?”
Jasper’s drawl came over the other end of the line. “Ben—glad I caught ya. Listen, I’ve been thinking lately about doing a little restructuring of Gibson’s trial team . . . I’m concerned that we’re leveraged a little too heavily on the lawyer side. So I’ve decided to take my business elsewhere, to a smaller firm.”
Ben looked up at the ceiling. “And who might that be?”
“A new outfit, actually. Just got the call today, sayin’ that they’re open for business.”
“Jasper, you can’t seriously be con—”
“Loyalty, Ben—I wouldn’t have gotten where I am today without it. That’s something you might want to look into.”
“Don’t be an idiot just to prove a point, Jasper. You can’t hand them over a two-hundred-million-dollar case.”
“Oh, I think I can,” Jasper said. “I told you, I’ve got a feelin’ about those two. I think you’re gonna be seeing big, big things from them.” He chuckled. “Catch you around, Ben. Oh, yeah—and thanks for the introduction.”
WHEN THE DOOR opened and Payton and J.D. stepped out, the crowd that had gathered in front of the office immediately quieted down.
Front and center stood Ben, who walked over to them with a look that said he was thoroughly annoyed. “Are we done with the theatrics now? Can we finally finish this?”
Payton nodded. “Actually, Ben, we are finished with this. Because I resign, too.”
She could’ve sworn she heard several people gasp.
Ben’s eyes narrowed. He glanced between her and J.D. “What sort of bullshit is this? You’re both resigning?”
“Sorry, Ben. But you forced our hand,” J.D. said. “Payton and I have decided to stay together.”
Payton heard an “awww” come from the crowd behind her in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Irma’s.
But Ben was not ready to be outplayed yet. He held up a sealed envelope. His trump card. “I’ve got a letter offering partnership that I think will change one of your minds.”
Neither Payton nor J.D. moved.
Ben looked between them, stunned. “Don’t you at least want to know who we chose?”
Hell, yes. Payton wouldn’t deny that part of her was tempted to grab the envelope out of Ben’s hand and rip it open right there.
But.
She glanced over at J.D., who glanced over at her, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.
Some questions were better left unanswered.
Realizing that neither of them was going to bite, Ben shoved the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. “You’re both fools,” he snapped.
“Yes. But only for not doing this earlier,” J.D. said.
“You shouldn’t have let it come to this, Ben. J.D. and I both deserve this,” Payton said. “And if this firm values strategic leveraging over the commitment we’ve shown over the last eight years, then, frankly, you don’t deserve us.”
J.D. peered down at her with that “amused” look. “Nice speech.”
“Thanks. I worked on it while you were on the phone.”
J.D. cocked his head in the direction of the hallway behind them. “Shall we?”
“Yes.” Unable to help herself, Payton’s eyes went to the pocket of Ben’s jacket where he had stashed the envelope.
J.D. laughed and held out his hand. “Come on, cupcake—let’s go.”
Payton threw him a look. “I can’t believe you just called me that in front of the entire office.”
She took his hand, and side by side they walked through the office corridor, past their offices, to the elevators and the exit.
J.D. smiled. “I told you, it’s endearing.”
“No, it’s paternalistic and quasi-sexist. I can’t think of one comparable name a woman can call a man.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so great.”
Et cetera.
AS SOON AS the doors shut, the office broke into complete pandemonium. Of primary concern, of course, was the betting pool, and how to address the issue of the double forfeiture.
The Kendall camp, led by Laney, duly noted that Payton’s statement to Ben had been “I resign, too,” evidencing that J.D. had, in fact, resigned first, thus making Payton the de facto winner, even if only for a few brief moments.
The Jameson faction, however—headed by Tyler and relying upon secretly procured hearsay testimony from one of the members of the Partnership Committee who had been inside Ben’s office—argued that although J.D. had attempted to resign first, Payton had demanded that said withdrawal of employment not be accepted, thus her statement to Ben of “I resign, too” was, in fact, the first and only official resignation, making J.D. the winner.
In the midst of the chaos, Marie, Ben’s secretary, walked up to him and whispered that he had a phone call.
“Take a message,” Ben barked. Whoever it was, it could wait.
Marie looked uncertain. “He insisted on speaking with you immediately.”
Ben wasn’t in the mood. “Deal with it, whoever it is,” he said, brushing past her.
“It’s Jasper Conroy.”
Ben stopped in his tracks.
They couldn’t have.
He nodded to Marie. “I’ll take it.” Not wanting to waste another minute, he headed into his office. He saw the blinking light on his phone and immediately picked up the receiver.
“Jasper! Good to hear from you. How are things down in Palm Beach?”
Jasper’s drawl came over the other end of the line. “Ben—glad I caught ya. Listen, I’ve been thinking lately about doing a little restructuring of Gibson’s trial team . . . I’m concerned that we’re leveraged a little too heavily on the lawyer side. So I’ve decided to take my business elsewhere, to a smaller firm.”
Ben looked up at the ceiling. “And who might that be?”
“A new outfit, actually. Just got the call today, sayin’ that they’re open for business.”
“Jasper, you can’t seriously be con—”
“Loyalty, Ben—I wouldn’t have gotten where I am today without it. That’s something you might want to look into.”
“Don’t be an idiot just to prove a point, Jasper. You can’t hand them over a two-hundred-million-dollar case.”
“Oh, I think I can,” Jasper said. “I told you, I’ve got a feelin’ about those two. I think you’re gonna be seeing big, big things from them.” He chuckled. “Catch you around, Ben. Oh, yeah—and thanks for the introduction.”
