Best Practice

by Carsen Taite

  Perry looked down at her outfit. She’d gone dark today to suit her mood, and she wore her black RBG T-Shirt, khaki cargo pants, and black Chucks. She figured all she’d be doing was sitting in this back office, rummaging through documents, so what did it matter what she wore? Grace could have given her the courtesy of a heads-up if she was going to be included in a client meeting. But then again, this was the client who was engaged in illegal dumping so did it really matter how she looked? At least she wasn’t breaking the law. And it wasn’t like whatever she wore, she’d impress Grace. That ship had sailed.

  At ten o’clock, the phone on her desk rang and she nearly shot out of her chair. No one had called her in the two weeks she’d been here, and she figured it was a wrong number, but it kept ringing, so she lifted the extension and said, “Clark here.”

  “Perry, I have an announcement to make.” Graham spoke with his distinctive cadence. “Your guests are waiting in the lobby.”

  “Don’t know what to tell you, Graham, but I’m not expecting any guests.”

  “Ms. Daly and her guest then. Ms. Daly insists she has an appointment with you this morning.”

  Daly, Daly. The name sounded familiar and Perry spent a moment searching her mind for where she’d heard the name before. Birdie’s. The first night she’d gone out with Campbell, Abby, and Grace, and she’d met Roxanne Daly, Abby’s girlfriend. Back when everyone at the firm had seemed like a big happy family, before Grace had started ignoring her. Campbell’s parting words from this morning came rushing back—tell Roxanne hello. Apparently, Campbell had known Roxanne would be stopping by, but why was Roxanne asking for her?

  Deciding it would be easier to sort things out in person, she told Graham she’d be right there, and took the long way to the lobby to avoid walking by Grace’s office.

  Roxanne and an attractive brunette were chatting when she arrived at the lobby. “Hi, Roxanne. I think there’s some kind of mistake. Campbell’s not here.”

  “No mistake. Campbell set up the appointment, but we’re here to see you.” She gestured at the other woman who flashed her a big smile. “This is Stella Rivera, the best tailor in Austin. She’s here to measure you for your tux.”

  “Tux? Tuxedo? You’re kidding, right?”

  Roxanne shook her head. “Campbell wanted to surprise you. Said you weren’t big on dresses, but since you’ll be the maid of honor, figured you’d want some dressy duds to wear. We can customize your suit however you’d like. Stella has a magic touch.”

  Perry spent a moment digesting the information, taking long, slow breaths to quell the desire to run. Attending Campbell’s wedding was one thing, but actually being part of the ceremony was way beyond what she’d envisioned. Shouldn’t Campbell have asked her if she wanted to be maid of honor? And what about Grace? Oh, crap. If she and Grace were both in the wedding party, how was that going to work now that Grace was barely speaking to her? Perry didn’t know much about weddings, but wasn’t maid of honor a job reserved for a person’s best friend? Was Grace going to be even more pissed if she took the top spot by the bride’s side?

  You could ask the Bride’s Best Friend since she’s standing right in front you. Perry looked at Roxanne’s face, all cheery and happy and supportive of the bride, and remembered she’d promised Justin she would try to cut Campbell some slack. Campbell was busy after all and maybe she’d meant to ask and simply forgotten in the swirl of work and wedding prep occupying her life lately. It was pretty thoughtful of Campbell to send a tailor—a hot tailor, at that—to make sure she was comfortable in whatever she wound up wearing for the big day, but it was also likely super extravagant. She spent a moment wavering before ultimately deciding a new suit was exactly what she needed to take her mind off Grace and the icefest between them. “Cool,” she said. “Let’s use the conference room.”

  Once they were in the room, Stella sat across from her, a sketchpad in hand.

  “My usual process consists of talking to you about your style, sketching out some rough ideas, and then taking your measurements. I can have your garments ready in a week and we’ll do the first fitting then.”

  “That seems fast,” Perry said.

  “It is lightning speed,” Stella said with a delightful laugh. “But Roxanne is a dear friend, not to mention an excellent source of referrals, and I understand your presence is a bit of a surprise, a pleasant one for sure.”

  Perry glanced at Roxanne who ducked her head. Had Campbell told everyone she was likely to flake on the wedding? And had Stella’s last few words been flirtatious? Many things to ponder, but right now she needed to focus because Stella was sitting in front of her with her pencil poised and ready to sketch. Roxanne cleared her throat and said something about checking in on Abby and she disappeared from the room. When she was gone, Perry ran a hand down the front of her shirt to her pants in a flourish. “As you can see, I’m very fashion conscious.”

  Stella laughed. “My work isn’t about fashion. It’s about style, and I can already tell a lot about yours. Would you like me to share?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You like what you like, and you don’t really care what others think about your choices.”

  “Yes, but that seems a bit obvious.” Perry was beginning to feel like she’d been gifted a session with a hack medium whose predictions were only as good as the intel they could glean from seeing what was right in front of them.

  “You know what looks good on you, and that’s important. Size does matter.”

  Perry returned her grin. “Also true. Anything else?”

  “Simple is best. You don’t mind standing out, but not for your clothes.” Stella’s hand moved over the sketchpad with quick, bold strokes, and the room fell silent while Perry watched her sketch, transfixed by the process. A few minutes later, Stella handed her the paper.

  “Tell me what you think. Be honest.”

  Perry stared at the image on the paper. She didn’t know the right terms to describe the fashion on the paper, but she knew what the tuxedo depicted was both classic and modern at the same time, and she wanted to wear it right freaking now. She let her mind wander to the big day and imagined for a moment escorting Grace to the front of the church where they’d assume their positions next to Campbell. On the way down the aisle, people would stare, and she’d feel a little bit bad they were drawing attention away from the brides, but secretly giddy at what a striking couple she and Grace made.

  “I’m thinking midnight blue. It’ll complement the color of the other bridesmaids’ dresses without being too matchy matchy. You like?”

  Perry sighed and came back down to earth where Grace was avoiding her and highly unlikely to be up for being escorted anywhere if she was the one doing the escorting. Still, the sketch of the tux was gorgeous, and she’d be a fool to turn it down. “I like very much.”

  “Excellent. I’ll get your measurements and let you get back to work.” She reached into her oversized bag and pulled out a small foldable step stool and set it in front of her. “I promise this is sturdier than it looks. Step up on here and I’ll start with your legs.”

  That’s what she said. Perry held back a giggle as Stella ran a measuring tape up her inseam. Maybe a close encounter with the hot tailor was exactly what she needed to get past this silly obsession with Grace. She’d go to the wedding looking like a boss and Grace would be sorry then she’d missed her chance.

  “Excuse me, I thought this room was empty.”

  Perry glanced over her shoulder to see Grace standing in the doorway to the conference room, her arms loaded with files, but Grace wasn’t looking at her. She was staring at Stella who happened to be between her legs at this very moment.

  “Perry? What are you doing?” Grace asked.

  Perry wanted to make a smart remark, but for once in her life she couldn’t come up with anything to say. She and Grace were locked in a gaze, and Grace’s expression had gone from surprise to shock to hurt in the span of a few seconds, and that last
one had her wondering. Why would Grace be hurt when she’d been the one doing the hurting?

  “I’m getting a tux. For the wedding,” Perry blurted out. “No big deal.”

  Stella chose that moment to pop out from between her legs and wave at Grace. “Don’t mind me.” She resumed her measurements, likely missing Grace’s withering stare, but Perry saw it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong?” Grace shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. Well, except I have a meeting in here soon and I’d like to set up beforehand.”

  Right, the meeting with Hadley. “I know. I can set up for you if you let me know what files you want me to bring. I’ll do it as soon as Stella is finished with me.” She twitched as Stella stretched the measuring tape along her torso, nearly grazing her breast.

  “Shouldn’t be too much longer,” Stella called out.

  “Take your time,” Grace said. “I can manage on my own.” She turned and stomped out of the room.

  “Not that it’s any of my business,” Stella said, “but she seems stressed.”

  Grace did seem stressed and again Perry was surprised by Grace’s emotions. Part of her wanted to go to Grace and ask her if everything was okay, but the other part was still smarting from the sting of rejection. What she should do was find some distance. She wasn’t going to be here much longer, and once she was gone, she’d forget her infatuation and move on with her life. In the meantime, she needed to embrace the fact Grace Maldonado was an enigma, and the sooner she got over her the better.

  * * *

  Grace worked, or pretended to, for the next hour, until it was time to head back to the conference room. She ran into Perry in the hallway who, despite her morning visit from a custom tailor, was wearing a T-shirt and cargo pants and carried nothing in her hands except her phone.

  “What?” Perry asked, looking down at herself. “Did I put my shirt on inside out?”

  Grace winced against the mental image of Perry, pulling off her shirt. Had she undressed for Stella? She scrambled for something to say that didn’t have anything to do with clothes on or off of Perry. “Don’t you want to bring something to take notes?”

  Perry pointed at the notebook and pen Grace carried. “Like that?” She fished in her pocket for her phone, pulled up the notes app and turned the screen toward Grace. “Welcome to this century. Trust me, I’ve taken notes before.”

  Grace flinched at the remark. It wasn’t the first time in her life she’d been accused of micromanaging, but she was agitated about this meeting and she wanted it to go well. Plus, she couldn’t get the image of Stella crouched between Perry’s legs out of her head which only amped up her stress level. She wanted to pull Perry aside and attempt to clear the air, but Graham was headed their way with John Hadley in tow. “That’s him. Take my lead.”

  “Sure thing. Besides, what do I have to offer?”

  Grace heard the edge in Perry’s tone, but she didn’t have time to address it before John was standing in front of them. She grasped his hand. “It’s good to see you.” She motioned to Perry. “This is our new associate, Perry Clark. She’s been reviewing the documents in your case and I’ve asked her to sit in on our meeting today.”

  “Clark like the name on the building?” John asked.

  “Different Clark,” Perry said, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Grace led the way to the conference room, relieved that Perry appeared to be on her best behavior even if she did look like someone who’d wandered in off the street to hang out in the office. All she had to do was get through the next hour, and then she could decompress. Far from Perry and visions of her in a tuxedo.

  Ten minutes later, she’d barely gotten through her summary of the agency’s case against Hadley before the meeting went off the rails. “We still have to complete discovery responses, but we’re drafting the answers based on the information we’ve located in the documents you sent us. I’ll need you to review the draft responses and sign them, early next week.”

  “Sounds good. I can count on you to make this go away, right?” he said. “You know we didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Grace smiled and pivoted. “I know your intentions were good. My job is to convince the regulators that you’re dedicated to making things right and you deserve an opportunity to match your actions with your intentions.”

  “It would help if you were honest with us.”

  Grace froze at the sound of Perry’s voice and subsequent scowl forming on John’s face.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Grace said at the same time Perry said, “It’s impossible for us to represent you if you insist on pursuing a defense that’s not tenable. You say you were collecting materials to be recycled, but where’s the proof? Based on the memos I’ve seen, it appears that excuse was concocted after the regulators started nosing around, not before.”

  Grace spoke more forcefully this time. “Perry, that’s enough.” She turned to John. “Obviously, we have some work to do, but I’m confident we can get this done for you.”

  But John was focused on Perry. “Tell me what you mean.”

  Grace watched while Perry laid out the information she’d found. Information John himself may not have been aware of as the CEO. Yes, the company had started looking into the state’s program for recycling asphalt shingles and other materials to be used for highway and other state sponsored construction, but they hadn’t done their due diligence to make sure the way they accumulated and stored the materials was in compliance with state standards, and they hadn’t filed a letter of intent with the state in advance, making their accumulation of stuff look like the illegal dumping it was. The ensuing memos trying to explain away the circumstance made everything they’d done look like a cover-up.

  “Where are these memos?” John asked in a loud voice. “Who wrote them?”

  “You haven’t seen them?” Perry asked with a hint of incredulity.

  “Of course I haven’t, but rest assured when I find out who wrote them and who kept them from me, there will be consequences.”

  “I’m going to insist on interjecting here,” Grace said, shooting Perry a look that she hoped warned her to quit pouring oil on the fire. “John, you cannot go back to your company this afternoon and start firing people. We need to take careful, considered action to make sure we’re not sending the wrong message to the regulators. Let’s take a moment to regroup.”

  “I don’t know,” Perry said. “Cleaning house might be exactly what needs to be done to show the regulators you’re serious. If you really want to participate in the recycling program, do it the right way and start by terminating anyone who would thwart you. And if you’re really serious about recycling, why not donate to a local effort to show you mean business? There are all kinds of good causes you can contribute to that would not only help your image but might actually make your customers feel like your company is a responsible community citizen.”

  Thwart you? Grace full on glared at Perry now, determined the next step would be tossing her from the room. If she’d questioned a partner’s strategy in front of the client at her old firm, she would’ve risked being fired on the spot. Of course, she’d never kissed a partner at her old firm. Or told a partner she’d had a life-long crush on them. Or implied they could do more than kissing, which is where Perry had been headed that night at Birdie’s, right?

  Images of Stella the handsy tailor running her hands along Perry’s legs filled her brain. Had Perry treated Stella to the same slow, easy smile she’d given Grace after that searing kiss at the bar? Why did she care?

  Grace struggled to return to the present, to stop being distracted by Perry and her lips and inseams and the jaunty way she flaunted both of them. She had to act fast if she was going to keep Hadley on track. She was the partner at this firm and Perry was only here as a favor.

  “John, any move you make right now will define not only this case,” Grace said, “but how regulators view
your company in the future. The allegations are broad, and the first step is to get the state to narrow them. They served us with discovery, but we can ask for discovery as well. I’m drafting requests now. Hold off on any internal actions until we have more details and can make an informed decision. I’ve been through these investigations before with other clients and I know what I’m doing. I understand the temptation to look for a quick and easy way out,” she shot a look at Perry who merely shrugged, “but slow and steady is the way to win this type of case.”

  John looked at Perry like he was seeking permission to follow her advice and Perry merely hunched her shoulders. Seriously? How had a kid, barely out of law school, suddenly become the de facto authority in Grace’s area of expertise? This meeting couldn’t end soon enough.

  Grace walked John to the lobby, partly out of courtesy and partly to keep Perry from having any alone time with him. She’d probably tell him to close his business and start planting sustainable forests instead. Once she was certain John was off the premises, she returned to the conference room, but Perry was gone. She walked to the war room, but found it empty as well. She picked up the phone on Perry’s desk and buzzed Graham. “Where did Perry go?”

  “Is this Ms. Maldonado?”

  “Yes, Graham, it’s Grace. Quit calling me Ms. Maldonado. That’s my mother.”

  “I did not recognize your phone from this extension.”

  Grace sighed. “Sorry. Do you know where the young Miss Clark happens to be at this moment?”

  “She had a luncheon engagement with her brother. She left mere moments ago. Would you like me to dash out to the parking lot to see if she is still on the premises?”

  In the time it had taken for him to recite that long explanation, Perry was likely long gone. Besides, she didn’t want to chase after Perry. It would send the wrong message. Imply she wasn’t the one in control. She’d have a nice long talk with Perry later, when she’d had a chance to cool down. When her feelings about Perry the sexy kisser weren’t all jumbled up with Perry the client-killer.