Payton sat upright. “Well if you knew so much, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I did. For years I’ve urged you to get along with J.D.”

“I thought that was some weird Republican loyalty thing.”

“No, it’s because I’ve always thought you and he just needed to get back on the right track.” Laney took a sip of the second wine, a South African pinotage. “By the way, while you two were bonking your brains out, did you happen to figure out how your feud even started?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Payton threw Laney an amused look. “ ‘Bonking our brains out’? Really?”

“It’s as tawdry as we Republicans get.”

Payton thought back to certain portions of her weekend with a certain Republican that had been cut out of the PG-13 recap. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said. “I didn’t get to tell you about the time on Saturday night, when we got back to the room after dinner and J.D. pushed me up against the desk and said—”

Laney held up her hand. “Don’t. I can’t know these things—I’ll be blushing every time I see the guy. I have to work with him, remember?”

She’d meant the comment in jest, but it had an immediate sobering effect on Payton.

“Do you think you’ll still work with him after Tuesday?” she quietly asked.

Seeing the look on her face, Laney fell serious, too. “I honestly don’t know who they’re going to choose, Payton.”

Payton swirled her glass, pretending to study the legs of the wine running down its side.

“If they don’t choose me, I’m not sure I can ever look him in the face again,” she said. “I couldn’t stand it if he felt sorry for me.” She took a sip of her wine. “Of course, if they do choose me, then that’s exactly how he will feel, and I’ll probably lose him anyway.”

Laney sighed. “That is a predicament.”

“You have to give me more than that, Laney. You’re my wartime consigliere.” Payton saw her friend’s clueless look. “It’s from The Godfather.”

Laney folded her hands in her lap. “Oh. Never saw it. Too much violence. But remind me—who, exactly, are you at war with?”

“It’s just an expression.”

“An interesting one. I think my first piece of advice as your wartime counsel-whatever is to stop thinking of J.D. as the enemy.”

Payton thought about this. Good point.

Laney pressed harder. “Seriously, how do you feel about him? You’ve already slept with him, Payton—I think it’s okay to admit it now.”

Payton took in her friend as she considered the question. After a moment, she smiled. “I’m crazy about him.” She saw Laney’s grin. “And in many ways, I mean that literally, you know. There are times—many, many times—when he drives me absolutely nuts. But still.”

“Are you in love with him?” Laney asked.

Payton blushed. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

Laney threw up her hands. “Oh, my god—we finally found the one word that makes Payton Kendall blush. Love.” She pointed. “It’s because your mother didn’t let you read fairy tales when you were a kid.”

“And just when I thought I understood all the levels at which she messed me up, a new issue emerges.”

Laney chuckled. “So, do you want my second piece of advice?”

“Don’t listen to anything my mother says?”

“Okay, maybe my third piece of advice.”

Now it was Payton’s turn to laugh. “Sure, go ahead.”

Laney’s expression was matter-of-fact. “If you’re as crazy about J.D. as you say you are, then, well, don’t you kind of have to try to make it work? Who knows what will happen after Tuesday? Maybe he’ll surprise you. Maybe you’ll surprise yourself.”

Payton thought about this. Maybe, just maybe, Laney was right. She eyed her friend with faux suspicion. “Are you sure you’re not just saying this because you want to start making plans for Sunday couples barbecues?”

“Well, yes,” Laney said. “You’re my best friend, Payton. Of course I want you to find that one person who really makes you happy.”

Touched, Payton reached over and hugged her. “Thanks, Laney.” When she pulled back, she squeezed Laney’s hand sheepishly. “I’ve been so caught up in everything, I didn’t even ask how you’re doing. Although I did notice you’re drinking wine tonight.”

Laney sighed wistfully. “Yes, it didn’t happen this month.” Then she perked up. “That’s okay. The fun is in the trying.”

“Wow—you’re almost approaching a PG-13 rating yourself with that comment.”

Laney sat up and smoothed back her hair, seemingly pleased. “Me? PG-13? In that case, since we’ve already crossed the line, I suppose we should just get this out of the way. No, wait—”

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.”

Twenty-five

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.”