“Wait, you didn’t kiss him?” Laney’s tone suddenly changed and she eyed Payton suspiciously. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like him?”

Payton dug through the stack of jury instructions on her desk. “Oh—look who wants to gossip now.”

“Tell me, Payton,” Laney demanded. “Nate tells me Chase is a really great guy. I’ve already had visions of the seven of us barbecuing on Sundays.”

“The seven of us?”

“There are the children, of course.”

Payton nodded. “I see. And . . . seven?”

“Nate and I have twins—a boy and a girl.”

“Of course you do.”

Laney fidgeted in her chair impatiently. “So, come on then—did you like him?”

“Of course I liked him,” Payton said. “I mean, what’s not to like? He’s good-looking and nice and successful . . .”

“But?”

“Well, he ordered a drink with a cherry.”

Laney sighed. “I see. Okay, whatever. I tried.”

“What does that mean?” Payton asked, going on the defensive.

“Clearly, you’re trying to find something wrong with him,” Laney said. “His beverage selection? Come on, that’s ridiculous.”

Payton took issue with this. “Wait a second—why would I try to find something wrong with Chase?”

“Good question. You tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell. As we already established from the ‘trollop’ comment, he and I are going on a second date.”

“I’m just putting it out there that you really might want to give this guy a chance,” Laney lectured.

“I told you, I like him!”

“Good.”

“We have a lot in common—we talked for hours.”

“Glad to hear it.” Laney said nothing further; she just stared at Payton with the faint trace of a smile.

“You are just all over me with this,” Payton said, semi-annoyed.

“I know. I’m really bored with work these days.”

“I’d be happy to assign you a few of my cases, if you need things to keep you busy,” Payton grumbled.

“As if any lawyer could ever handle your cases as skillfully as you,” Laney declined smoothly.

Payton sniffed at this, partially mollified. How true.

“Let’s hope the Partnership Committee agrees with you on that,” she said.

“Any further word on that front?” Laney asked.

Payton shook her head. “No. Just that Ben said that J.D. and I should give it all we’ve got these next few weeks.” She gestured to the stack of files on her desk. “For starters, I better win this trial.” She sighed, resting her chin in her hands. “I can’t lose this, Laney.”

“You won’t,” Laney told her matter-of-factly. “You’ve never lost anything.”

Payton glanced through her window to J.D.’s office across the hall. She could see him working diligently, as always.

“I know. But neither has he.”

FOR THE NEXT two days, Payton had little time to worry about J.D., so engrossed was she in the final preparations for her trial. She and Brandon, the junior associate working with her on the case, bunkered down in her office from dawn till dusk, running through the trial from jury selection to closing arguments. The trial was scheduled to last just under two weeks, which meant it would be essentially the last assignment upon which she could be judged by the Partnership Committee before they made their decision. A victory would be a tremendous feather in her cap; a loss would be disastrous.

Payton knew that J.D., too, had a lot on his plate. At their monthly litigation group luncheon, she overheard him mention to Max, a senior partner who “just happened” to be on the Partnership Committee, that he was juggling two class certification oppositions, both of which he was confident he would successfully wrap up by the end of the month.

Standing nearby, Payton was certain J.D.’s comment was primarily for her benefit. So she turned to Helen, another senior partner who also “just happened” to be on the Partnership Committee, and said she had heard that Helen’s daughter was applying for law school at the University of Illinois, Payton’s alma mater.

“It’s a wonderful school, and such a good bargain with in-state tuition,” Payton said.

Helen nodded, agreeing with this. “I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that she gets in. She didn’t do quite as well on the LSAT as she had hoped.”

“I’d be happy to write your daughter a recommendation,” Payton offered.

Out of nowhere, Laney was suddenly at Payton’s side.

“You definitely should take her up on that, Helen—they love Payton at that school. She’s too modest to tell you this, but did you know that Payton graduated first in her class and set a new record for the most perfect scores earned on final exams by any one student?”

Payton could’ve kissed Laney right there.

“Wow,” said Helen. She turned to Payton. “I am impressed. Maybe we could have lunch sometime this week, Payton? We could talk about that recommendation for my daughter. And who knows? Perhaps someday soon I’ll be able to return the favor . . .” She winked.

A few moments later, after Helen walked away, J.D. sauntered over to Payton and Laney. He clapped sarcastically.

“Well played, ladies.” J.D. looked Payton over. “But I wouldn’t book that flight to Bora-Bora yet, Kendall. It’s going to take a lot more than the vote of the one female on the Partnership Committee to win this.” He smiled. “I had already conceded that one to you, anyway.”

With that, he turned and confidently strolled out of the conference room. Payton and Laney watched him go.

Laney shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

Payton gestured. “See—I told you.”

“That man has such a great butt.”

“Laney!”

“What? I’m conservative, Payton, not blind.”

SOMEWHERE AROUND FIVE, the evening before her trial began, Payton reached her saturation point. She had prepared all her direct and cross-examinations, had practiced her opening statement, reviewed and taken notes on every witness’s deposition transcript, and had thoroughly prepared her client’s own witnesses for their testimonies. Now there was nothing left for her to do except to accept the fact that there was nothing left for her to do. Not an easy task, considering what she felt was riding on the outcome of this trial.

She needed a distraction. Left to her own devices, she would either drive herself crazy, worrying over insignificant minutiae, or she would start calling Brandon with questions, thus driving him crazy.

Laney was busy, Payton knew. Tonight, unbeknownst to Nate, her friend had prepared a PowerPoint presentation for her husband—complete with estimated income graphs, cost of living analyses, and a fertility projection—logically detailing all the reasons why they needed to start trying to have a baby now. And as for her other friends, Payton knew better than to call them—nothing was more annoying to a nonlawyer than to be stuck with one the night before a trial. Every sentence tended to start with, “So, if you were a juror on this case, what would you think if . . . ?”

There was, however, somebody who would be perfect company for the evening. She picked up the phone on her desk.

“Hi,” she said when he answered. “I know it’s short notice, but I thought I’d see if you happened to be free for dinner tonight.”

AN HOUR LATER, Payton waited in the lounge at DeLaCosta restaurant. She’d managed to score a bar table along the window with a view overlooking the canal.

She smiled as the Perfect Chase walked in, looking very dashing in his light summer sweater and dark brown pants.

He returned the smile as he took the seat across from her. “Sorry—my cab got stuck in traffic.”

The waitress approached to take his drink order.

“A Tom Collins,” Chase told her. “But, please—make sure there is absolutely no cherry in it.”

Payton nearly died of embarrassment right there. Oh, my god, she was going to kill Laney.