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Practice Makes Perfect

Page 3

by Carsen Taite


  “Try working eighteen hours straight for Mr. Worth, who stayed at the office the entire time to make sure we did everything exactly the way he wanted it. I was all like hey, you’ve already got your name on the door, who are you trying to impress?”

  “You should’ve come to the reunion,” Wynne said. “You could have pitched it as networking.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I do enough fake networking with people I don’t know. Besides, I already keep in touch with all the people from school that I want to. No need to wander through a big crowd of assholes I don’t remember and who likely don’t remember me.”

  “As if.” She wasn’t kidding. Seth had been pretty popular in school—not quite as popular as Campbell and her pals—but other students were always seeking him out to be part of their study groups and moot court teams. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what he remembered about Campbell, but he interrupted her thoughts with a question of his own.

  “Just because I didn’t go doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear all about it. Give me the skinny. Who changed the most and who hasn’t changed at all?”

  “I ran into Campbell Clark. Do you remember her?”

  He munched on his pizza. “Uh-huh. One of the Charlie’s Angels.”

  “What?”

  “She and Grace and Abby were inseparable. Just like the Angels, they were always solving cases together, except their mysteries were the cases in law books, unlike the life-and-death cases on the show.” He laughed loudly, obviously very amused with himself. When he settled down, he added, “Campbell was the hot one.”

  “They were all hot,” Wynne mused.

  “Are we talking movie version or show?”

  “Both.”

  He nodded his approval. “You’re right. All the angels were hot. Anyway, she’s smart too. I think she works for Hart and Dunn now. How’s she doing?”

  Wynne had posed her original question to find out what he knew about Campbell, not the other way around. She stalled by gulping the rest of her wine and cycling through potential responses. She’s doing great. Fell right into my arms. Looks like a million bucks. Why do I keep obsessing about this? She finally settled on, “Good. She’s good.”

  “I always wondered why she went into big law. She’s loaded and could do anything she wants.”

  Loaded, huh? Now there was a piece of gossip about Campbell Clark she didn’t know. Figured. Wynne’s newfound obsession with Campbell started to recede at learning there was one more thing they didn’t have in common. That’s okay. She didn’t have time to daydream about the Campbell Clarks of the world, or any woman for that matter. Not when she was focused on making partner this year. She pushed away any final thoughts about Campbell’s deep red, kissable lips and asked Seth all about his day.

  Chapter Three

  One month later…

  Campbell stood in the center of the newly acquired office space for Clark, Keane, and Maldonado and held her arms over her head and spun around while Abby and Grace watched.

  “What are you doing?” Grace asked.

  “Soaking it in.”

  Abby took the spot next to her and raised her arms as well. “Yep, I can feel it too.”

  Grace tentatively lifted her hands over her head. “What exactly are we feeling?”

  “Freedom for one thing,” Campbell said. “At no point in the next however long is a partner going to walk through those doors and yell about some research he needs done, or deposition he needs covered, or anything else. No more being sent out to give the client bad news while some partner cowers in their office letting us take the blame for their bad decisions.”

  “No more jumping through hoops without getting any of the credit,” Abby added.

  “No more not worrying how the rent gets paid,” Grace said. She held up a folder in her hand. “I’d like to call our first meeting, please.”

  Campbell recognized the tone. It was Grace’s let’s-get-down-to-business voice, and she remembered it well from their days of studying together in law school. She and Abby had a tendency to start their study sessions with the latest class gossip, but Grace always managed to wrangle them back to the reality of looming exams. Grace’s ability to focus on the finer details was precisely why she and Abby had voted to make Grace the managing partner of their fledging firm, and for the past month, Grace had been laser-focused on the millions of details necessary to get their business off the ground. Campbell had a feeling Grace was about to do some financial wrangling, and she was fully prepared to head off any of her concerns. With a flourish, she gestured to the middle of the room. “Shall we sit on the floor and pretend that the pretty new conference table is already here?”

  “About that,” Grace said, a pained look on her face. “I may have put a hold on the order for the new table.”

  Campbell cocked her head and squinted at Grace as she parsed her words. “You ‘may have put a hold on the order’? What does that mean and why would you do that?” She watched as Grace looked at Abby with a pleading expression, but Abby merely hunched her shoulders. “Would you two like to tell me what’s going on?”

  Grace sighed and motioned for them to sit. Campbell lowered herself to the floor, glad she’d worn comfortable clothes today. She settled into lotus position and focused on a breathing rhythm she hoped would keep her from whacking someone over the head. When she’d taken a few deep breaths, she turned to face Grace. “Okay, lay it on us. What did you do with the pretty new conference room table?”

  “Nothing. I put a hold on it. Just for now. I was thinking maybe we could get something other than a custom piece until we start having a steady cash flow. I saw an ad in the bar journal about a firm that’s shutting down and selling off their furniture. They have a nice conference table.” She picked up her phone. “I can show you the pics they sent me.”

  Campbell held up her palm. “Don’t need to see them. Let me guess. It’s a ‘substantial piece’ and made of mahogany, cherry, insert some other stodgy heavy wood stain here, and looks pretty much the same as any other conference room table at any other law firm in the country.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?” Grace asked.

  “I thought we all agreed we wanted to show clients our practice is outside the box. Hip, trendy—”

  “Frivolous?”

  Campbell sighed and turned to Abby for support. After all, the three of them had input into the table design which featured stone from nearby Marble Falls incorporated with sleek modern lines. “You’re with me, aren’t you, Abby?”

  Abby raised her hands in surrender. “I want to be. I absolutely adore the table.” She hung her head. “But I’m going to have to side with Grace on this one. Between the rent and all the other things we need—phones, internet, staff—we’re kind of bleeding cash until we get some big clients in the door.”

  “And I’m just saying that in order to get them in the door, we might need to bait the hook.”

  “Mix your metaphors much?” Grace asked.

  “You know what I mean,” Campbell said, trying for a measured tone. “If potential clients walk into our conference room and see the same heritage style furnishings as they’d seen at one of our old law firms, then why wouldn’t they pick them over us? We need to emphasize the difference between our firm and the firms we came from, not give in to it.”

  Abby reached over and grasped her arm. “I hear you. I think we all agree, but it’s a delicate balance.”

  “Maybe in a couple of months,” Grace added, her tone now contrite. “Once we get some new business in the door, I promise we’ll make it a priority.”

  Campbell twisted her hands as she considered what she was about to say before she plunged in. “I can float us. For a while, I mean. Until we get some cash flow.”

  “Is that why you were late earlier?” Grace said. “Robbing a bank?”

  “You’re hilarious.” Campbell play punched her. “I got full access to my trust fund this year.”

  “Oh,” Both
Abby and Grace said at the same time. “I forgot about that,” Abby said. “But don’t you want to keep that money for…I don’t know, something else?”

  Campbell should be used to people dancing around the circumstances of her wealth. Hell, she hated talking about it, and there was a time she’d viewed the money from the exorbitant jury award for her parents’ wrongful death as blood money that she had no desire to spend. But she liked to think her mom and dad, who’d always supported her dreams, would be happy to see her using the profits from their death for this new venture. “It’s not Getty-level money, and I plan to keep most of it for when I’m old and doddering, but there’s still plenty to open the firm of our dreams without worrying about going into debt.”

  “I don’t know,” Abby said. “It feels like we’d be starting out not on an even playing field between the three of us. Grace, what do you think?”

  Campbell held her breath, pretty sure Grace would be the first one to speak up in opposition.

  “Well, I’d definitely prefer to find the funds another way, but if Campbell wants to loan the firm some seed money, it’s not a terrible idea. My primary concern is making sure we don’t make any decisions about money that could affect our power dynamic, let alone our friendship. How about we keep it in reserve for now, and revisit it in a month or two when we have a better idea of where things stand?”

  Fair and rational. Trademark Grace. Campbell nodded. “Good plan. But in the meantime, I’m making an executive decision and paying for the new conference table. Consider it my gift to all of us for taking this leap. Besides, if I have to see the same old stodgy furniture every day, then I may as well go back to work for Hart and Dunn aka Stodgy and Boring, LLP.”

  “Deal,” Abby said, quickly followed by Grace who smiled her assent.

  Satisfied they’d reached an acceptable compromise, Campbell said, “Now that that’s settled, I have a lunch date with my brother to try to drum up some business. Doors open in one week, ladies!”

  * * *

  Wynne pushed aside some papers on her desk and sighed when a stack fell to the floor. When she reached down to pick them up, she spotted a copy of the program from her law school reunion weekend in the mix, and she flipped it open. She’d thought about the reunion—make that her brush with Campbell Clark—several times over the past month, but she’d resisted the urge to Google Campbell or otherwise dwell on why she cared to know more about her.

  “Wynne?”

  Startled, Wynne dropped the program back on the floor as the secretary she shared with the senior litigation partner appeared in her doorway. “Hey, Jennifer, what’s up?”

  “He wants to see you. And yes, I told him you were headed to the Wilson meeting.”

  “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but there was nothing Wynne could do about it. “He” was Jerry Stoltz, the senior partner in their division at Worth, Ingram, Nash, and Reed, and when he called, everyone jumped. Everyone who wanted to make partner anyway. Failure to respond to Stoltz’s call would outweigh all the extra billable hours she’d managed to rack up over the last five years. Hours that had resulted in big end of year bonuses, bonuses that had gone straight into safe investment accounts, but would disappear quickly if she didn’t have the security of her job.

  She quickly gathered the files she’d need for the deposition and shoved them into her bag. On her way to Stoltz’s office, she dropped her stuff at Jennifer’s desk and told her she’d be right back for it. When she approached Stoltz’s office, she paused to listen to him railing at someone, but she couldn’t tell if his rant was directed at someone inside or on the phone. She knocked on the door, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate her attempt to be considerate by waiting until he was done. Stoltz didn’t value politeness, especially not at the office. To him, courtesy was a waste of time, and time was money.

  “Come in,” he barked.

  She opened the door and tiptoed into the room, spotting Stoltz behind his desk with the phone in one hand and a Red Bull in the other. He jabbed his finger at a spot behind her before resuming his conversation on the phone, and she quietly shut the door. She remained standing and pretended not to listen to his conversation, but she was totally soaking up every word.

  “The kid is crazy,” Stoltz growled into the phone. “Sure, he came up with the original idea, but it’s not his smarts that make money. You need to get him under control…I know, I know, but I’m tired of getting texts from him every two seconds, telling me I’m behind the times. When did clients start thinking it was okay to text anyway?”

  Shortly after dinosaurs stopped roaming the earth. Wynne focused on using one of the breathing exercises she’d learned from Seth to keep her growing angst at bay, but she’d barely managed to count to eight when Stoltz slammed down the phone.

  “Have a seat,” he said in a remarkably calm voice.

  Despite his apparent frustration at whoever had been on the other end of the phone, it didn’t seem to be spilling over onto her. She wanted to tell him she didn’t have time to sit down since the meeting he’d scheduled and commanded her to handle was supposed to start seconds from now, but she knew it would be an exercise in futility. She’d barely settled in one of the chairs across from his gargantuan desk before he launched in.

  “Braxton Keith is a menace.”

  Ah, that explained the phone call, and now Wynne knew exactly which client Stoltz had been complaining about. Braxton Keith, twenty-something whiz kid, was probably the youngest business client of the firm, and his youthful enthusiasm for his internet start-up Leaderboard, and all things technological, spilled over into every interaction he had with his lawyers. Stoltz hated him. Actually, hate was a strong word. It was probably more like he viewed Brax—their client insisted everyone call him by the shortened version of his name—as an entitled child who wanted his lawyers to bless all his business transactions no matter how impractical and irresponsible they might be. Wynne didn’t particularly like the guy, but she respected his smarts and insight into the future of social media. Menace wasn’t the word she would have used, but there really wasn’t an appropriate comment to make in response to Stoltz’s assessment, so she bided her time, knowing from experience Stoltz didn’t need anyone else’s contribution to make a conversation. “Uh-hmm,” she said, careful to keep her tone neutral.

  “His new venture’s barely been in place for six months and already he’s getting smacked with a big lawsuit from some two-bit singer, Rhea Hendricks.”

  Wynne resisted pointing out that Rhea Hendricks was an up-and-coming country music powerhouse. “Leaderboard?”

  “What?”

  Wynne cursed herself for speaking up, but now that she had, she treaded carefully. “The venture? Was it the Leaderboard app?”

  Stoltz made a show of looking for something on his desk. “Yes, I think that was it. No one even understands how it works, so how did they manage to find a cause of action against it?”

  Wynne let the rhetorical question go. She understood the basics of how Leaderboard worked, but since Stoltz relied on her to do just that, he wouldn’t want to be reminded that her comprehension of Brax’s premier product exceeded his. “What can I do to help?”

  Stoltz stopped fussing with the papers on his desk and smiled, not a friendly smile, but a feral curling of the lips, and Wynne braced for impact. “Word on the street is that Braxton is hunting around for a new law firm,” Stoltz said. “His board has no desire to switch, but they are also tired of dealing with his temper tantrums when he doesn’t get his way. Go make nice with Braxton and keep him in the fold. He wants someone to make this litigation go away without any effort. I need you to impress upon him the importance of getting out in front and squashing the plaintiff like a bug. Jennifer has a copy of the plaintiff’s complaint for you. Finish the meeting with Wilson today, and then everything else takes a back burner to Braxton Keith. You keep him happy and I will take care of you. Understood?”

  She understood perfectly. She’d still be responsible for
her regular caseload, but Brax was now her number one priority. It was going to be hard to juggle everything, but if babysitting Braxton Keith was her key to partnership, she wasn’t about to blow it. “Understood.”

  She ducked out of his office and grabbed her bag from Jennifer’s desk. “J, will you set up a meeting for me at Braxton’s Meadow’s office? As soon as he’s available.” She paused for a second. “Once you’ve got it set up, see if one of the new kids are available to go with,” she said, referring to the crop of law school students doing their summer internship at the firm. “There’s one with a tech background. Sorry, I don’t remember his name.”

  “On it,” Jennifer said, scribbling a note. “I’ve called ahead to let them know you were delayed. If you leave now, you won’t be too late.”

  “I’m already gone,” Wynne called out as she ran for the elevator. The meeting was being held at opposing counsel’s office down the street so at least she wouldn’t have to fight traffic to get there. Despite her hurry, when she pushed through the lobby doors, she couldn’t help but pause and soak in the beautiful spring day. After a solid month of March rain, the bright sun was a welcome change even if it was likely to turn into a burning circle of hell by June. Nothing she could do about that but enjoy the good weather while she could, and by enjoy she meant catch a moment here and there between bouts of work. She thought back to seeing Campbell Clark and her pals at the reunion, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, and wondered what that would be like. She shrugged. No sense wondering about things that were never going to happen.

  Chapter Four

  Campbell tapped her fingers on the table and looked around the restaurant patio. She loved every single thing on the menu at Moonshine Grill, and it didn’t help that she was starving. If her brother, Justin, didn’t show up soon, she was going to order one of everything and stick him with the bill. To distract her desire to eat all the things, she replayed the conversation she’d just had with Grace and Abby in her head. In her opinion, the whole money thing was a distraction. She totally got how they would prefer that the firm pay its own way, but new businesses borrowed money all the time. They could go to the bank and take out a loan, or save the exorbitant interest rate and let her finance their start-up costs. Her way was clearly better overall—she just needed to find a way to convince Grace it wouldn’t affect their relationship.

 

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