Practice Makes Perfect

by Carsen Taite

  If only. Wynne could handle contentious battle. It was the friendly foe that scared her most. She’d started to let her guard down, and after that night at Campbell’s, more walls had fallen in the face of friendly Campbell. She could live with that, but the almost kissing? No way she could let that possibility continue to hang in the air between them without losing complete and total focus on her ultimate objective: keeping Leaderboard’s business and trouncing the competition.

  But she couldn’t tell Campbell any of this without admitting exactly how undone their causal closeness left her. “No, you haven’t, but I think it’s important for both of us to remember that although we’re working on this case together, we’re in competition.” She managed a humorless smile. “It’ll be less painful when I take back all of Leaderboard’s business.”

  Campbell smiled too, but it was cautious, and the sparkle in her eyes had dimmed. “I see.” She moved toward the door. “You’ll be sorry when you’re craving some of my special snacks.” She opened the door. “Oh, and, Wynne?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve decided to take the lead on the deposition. See you in there.”

  Wynne watched the door swing shut behind Campbell, too dumbfounded to reply, not that it would matter if she had since Campbell was no longer in earshot. “The hell you are,” she muttered under her breath. She grabbed her binder full of her detailed notes and rushed out of her office, but before she could make it to the conference room, Braxton appeared in her path, holding two bottles of what looked like mud.

  He shoved one of the bottles toward her. “Beet juice? I hear it’s going to be a long day.”

  She hid a grimace and reached for the foul looking liquid. “Thanks.” How could the same guy who let his sister have a donut food truck on his work campus be so attached to vegetables with all the life sucked out of them? “I have a couple of last-minute things to take care of, but if you want to wait in my office, I’ll come back and give you a rundown of how today’s going to go.”

  “I’m good. Campbell just filled me in on the main points. So, you’ll be taking notes while she asks the questions? For some reason I thought maybe you two would each get to question the witnesses?”

  Wynne faked a smile and glanced around, looking for Campbell who she was about to strangle. Her only saving grace was that Stoltz was out of town today on a last-minute trip for a client that couldn’t be rescheduled. If he returned to find out Campbell had stolen this opportunity, there would be hell to pay. “Actually, only one attorney for each party is allowed to question each witness. Campbell and I are still working out all the details. In fact, I should speak with her again before we get started.” She edged toward Jennifer’s desk. “Excuse me.”

  She found Campbell in the conference room, chatting up Brian, the court reporter, like they were long lost friends. Figured. They both looked up as she entered the room, and she pointed at Campbell. “A moment, please.”

  Brian looked between them and excused himself from the room, shutting the door behind him. Wynne barely waited for the door to close before she stalked toward Campbell. “I’ve spent the last week living and breathing every aspect of this case in preparation for this depo. We had an agreement.”

  “It was a coin toss. Hardly a well-reasoned debate,” Campbell said, stepping forward into her space.

  They were close now. So close, Wynne could feel the hum of electricity between them, and it was all she could do to keep her cool while Campbell’s lips were inches away. “We agreed.” The simple phrase was all she could manage. She should back away, gather her wits, and try again, but she was powerless to break free from the tractor beam of attraction.

  “What will you give me if I let you do it?”

  Wynne heard the words, but she lost the context in the haze of Campbell’s spell. “What?”

  “I’ll make you a deal. I won’t fight you for this depo, and I only have one request in exchange.”

  Still hazy, Wynne waited for the catch.

  “Have dinner with me tonight. To discuss the deposition, to discuss the next one and the one after that—I don’t care. You can pretend it’s whatever you want, but I pick the place and you let me take you. Deal?”

  Dinner with Campbell would be dangerous. No way could she stay focused on business, and not only that, but she was about to spend the entire day with Campbell. By the time dinner rolled around, she’d be completely distracted, unable to extract an ounce of let’s get this done.

  But she was powerless to resist. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Campbell stared hard. “You’re not just saying that to get your depo back, are you?”

  “What difference does it make if it means you win?”

  Campbell’s eyes dimmed for a second, and for the second time since she’d arrived, Wynne knew she’d offended her in some way. Campbell shrugged. “It doesn’t.”

  “I’ll go.” Wynne blurted out the words before she could change her mind and was oddly pleased at her choice. Campbell raised her eyebrows, and Wynne rushed to reassure her. “I want to go. But someplace casual, okay? It’s going to be a long day.”

  “Sure,” Campbell said, a hint of her enthusiasm showing through. “And don’t act like you’ve been sent to a firing squad. I promise to pick something we’ll both like.”

  Wynne nodded, forcing back a smile. The deposition was starting in five minutes, leaving no time to bask in the glow of Campbell’s invitation, which was just as well. She’d already forgotten the name of the wedding planner, which meant even the idea of dinner with Campbell was a distraction she couldn’t afford, but for the first time in her life she wasn’t interested in shutting out her personal life for her professional one. It’s only dinner. It wasn’t and she knew that, but she was determined to get through this deposition, and then she’d figure out what came next.

  * * *

  Things were going better than Campbell could’ve imagined. The wedding planner had all kinds of dish about Rhea’s rocky relationship with Dash, and Wynne was skilled at getting him to make admissions before he figured out where her questions led. She passed a few notes to Wynne with suggested questions, but for the most part, she didn’t think she could’ve done a better job, and a part of her was attracted to Wynne’s skill.

  She’d known Wynne was smart, but getting witnesses to open up like this was next level skill, and Wynne had it in spades. Brax had nodded his approval several times during the day, and Campbell knew that should put her on guard, but instead she just felt a sense of pride, like this woman she was drawn to was not only pretty, but smart too. Dangerous, but she vowed to not let her personal feelings affect her own performance at the next deposition. No matter what happened on their date tonight.

  Date. This was really happening. She needed a plan. Place, time, date clothes. Campbell looked down at her suit. It was one of her favorites, one she’d picked up for a sweet deal at Neiman’s, but nothing about it fit Wynne’s request for causal. She glanced over at Wynne’s carefully constructed deposition outline, and then at the clock on the wall. At the rate they were going, they’d wrap this up in time for her to run home and change. Her favorite jeans were clean, and she could pair them with that new top and sandals she’d ordered online last week. Although wearing brand new shoes for the first time probably wasn’t a great idea. Her mind wandered to slipping out of her shoes, and then—

  “Objection.”

  The loud exclamation was punctuated with slammed fist on the table, tearing Campbell from her first date fantasy. Rhea’s attorney was standing now, towering over the court reporter. He pointed at the wedding planner. “Don’t you dare answer that.”

  Campbell silently cursed her lack of attention, and she looked at Wynne to try to clue in to what question had set off this firestorm. True to form, Wynne had her forefinger on the current question in her notes, the apparent absence of any written contract between Rhea and the wedding planner. Wynne shook her head. “Objection noted. Please answer the question,” she
told the wedding planner.

  “Don’t you do it.” Rhea’s attorney, Jeb Lawson, was leaning across the table now, his imposing bulk looming.

  “Let the record reflect counsel for the plaintiff is standing and leaning over the witness,” Wynne said to the court reporter. She turned to Jeb. “Do you have a specific objection you’d like to note for the record or are you just posturing?”

  “I’ve let him answer your gossip questions, but he’s not permitted to discuss the exact terms of the contract he had with my client. He needs to keep his mouth shut or he’s in violation of his nondisclosure agreement.”

  Now completely out of fantasy mode, Campbell whipped out a copy of the requests for discovery they’d filed along with the deposition notice and tossed them on the table in front of Jeb. “It sounds like you just admitted that a written contract exists. Do you want to explain why you didn’t produce it in response to our requests?” When both Wynne and Jeb stared at her, she said, “What?”

  “Are the two of you planning on tag teaming all the witnesses?” Jeb asked with a sneer. “Because I can bring along an associate to bully your witnesses if you want.”

  Campbell raised her hands in surrender and shot an I’m sorry look at Wynne. “Sorry, just trying to help. Ms. Garrity has the floor.”

  Wynne didn’t betray any hint of annoyance. She picked up the carefully tabbed document and handed it to the witness. “We’re still on the record. Please show me in this contract where it says you agree not to disclose certain aspects of your arrangement with Ms. Hendricks.”

  He set the papers on the table. “It doesn’t.”

  “All right then. Let’s talk about—”

  “I signed the nondisclosure for Mr. Wilder.”

  Campbell scribbled a note and handed it to Wynne who barely glanced at it before shoving it behind her notes. “I think this is a good spot for a quick break,” Wynne said. “I’m requesting that the witness not speak to either side during the break, and we’ll resume in fifteen minutes.” She was out of her chair before she finished talking, and Campbell swept up their notes and rushed to follow her back to her office. She didn’t wait for an invitation to enter and shut the door behind them. Wynne was already behind her desk, typing on her computer, and Campbell waved a hand in her face. “Hey, care to share what you’re up to?”

  Wynne looked surprised to see her standing there. “Just running a few quick searches in WestLaw about enforcement of nondisclosure agreements.”

  “Would probably help if we actually had the agreement. Lawson obviously withheld it.”

  “I’m not sure Rhea can enforce the provisions of a contract between two other parties.” Wynne clicked a few keys, and a list of cases appeared on the screen in front of her.

  “But this guy can refuse to answer based on that agreement,” Campbell said. “If I were representing him, I’d tell him not to answer.”

  “Sure, but he didn’t bring his own counsel, and Rhea’s attorney has no business advising him what to do.” Wynne pointed at the door. “I was kind of hoping you would stay out there and keep an eye on things. Make sure Lawson doesn’t try to intimidate the witness.”

  “You know, you could have told me that’s what you wanted.”

  “What?” Wynne’s eyes were still glued to her computer screen.

  “Look, I know we’re in competition here, but neither one of us is going to get Leaderboard’s business if we tank this case. You’ve got the lead on this depo, and I’m your assist. Let me help you.”

  Wynne tore her gaze away from her computer, her expression skeptical. “You mean it?”

  “I do. Let’s win this together.”

  “Okay.” Wynne stood. “I’ll take another stab at the questions, and if he won’t answer, I’ll certify them for the judge. Does that sound like a good plan?”

  “Exactly what I’d do. We can draft a motion to compel his responses tomorrow.”

  “We should probably go ahead and draft it tonight.”

  “I’m going to veto you there. I think the attorneys in this case have plans tonight, and if said plans are cancelled, it would result in you being in violation of your own agreement.” Campbell watched as Wynne looked wistfully at her computer. “I promise we’ll work on it together in the morning and have it filed before noon. Deal?”

  Wynne hesitated only a moment. “Deal.”

  Campbell followed Wynne back into the conference room where Wynne asked a series of questions which the wedding planner, following Lawson’s advice, refused to answer. Wynne asked the court reporter to certify the questions, which simply meant that she marked them for transcription so that they could file a motion asking the judge to force the witness to answer. While Campbell watched the exchange, she was already writing the motion in her head and scribbling a few notes to get them started tomorrow because she was going to have her uninterrupted evening with Wynne, and nothing, not even this case, was going to get in the way.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wynne stood in front of her bedroom closet mirror and frowned. She’d insisted on casual, but faced with limited choices, she was beginning to second-guess. She’d worn jeans the night Campbell had taken her to Austin City Limits, and her mind wandered back to Campbell checking out how they fit. She supposed she could wear them again, but she only had one pair she liked, and if Campbell had been paying as close attention as she seemed to be, then she’d probably notice.

  She started sweeping every hanger in the closet aside, frustrated by the presence of over a dozen suits and tailored blouses and not much else. She could hear Seth’s voice in the back of her head telling her it was because she never did anything for fun. He wasn’t wrong. Counting her dates with Lane, she’d been out more times in the last few weeks than she had been for the last two years, but tonight was different. For the first time in a long time, she was truly excited about doing something that didn’t have anything to do with work.

  She finally settled on tan slacks and a cornflower blue sleeveless blouse. After a quick look in the mirror, she let her hair down and brushed it out so it hung in waves around her shoulders. There—she was now ten times more casual than an average day, and she’d be appropriately dressed if Campbell didn’t show up in those short shorts she was wearing the other night.

  A quick look at her phone told her she had less than ten minutes to finish up. Enough time to rummage through the kitchen to see if she had anything suitable to offer Campbell to drink when she arrived. It didn’t take long for her to realize her hostess skills needed some serious help. One bottle of expensive Scotch she’d won in a raffle at the last firm holiday party and an ancient bottle of champagne a client had sent her years ago after a big win. Hopefully, Campbell would want to go straight to dinner.

  Wynne’s phone buzzed and she looked at the screen, hoping Campbell was here to put her out of her pre-date anticipation misery, but it wasn’t Campbell, it was her dad. Wynne instinctively reached for it, but stopped short of answering. She’d transferred the money like she’d promised but broken her word about coming by to see her mother, which would make for a longer conversation than she had time for right now. She started to fire off a text promising to call back later, but experience told her if she opened the lines of communication, the back-and-forth could go on for a while. For all he knew, she was busy at work, so she let the call go to voice mail and vowed to call him back tomorrow.

  As if to signal her decision was the right one, the doorbell rang. Wynne took one last look at herself in the reflection of the microwave and strode to the door. Ready or not, she was going on a date with Campbell Clark.

  * * *

  Campbell sped toward Wynne’s house with the windows down. She’d considered leaving the top down, but she didn’t peg Wynne for a top down kind of girl. In fact, she’d been surprised that Wynne had suggested casual for this evening since the only other time she’d seen Wynne in casual clothes had been their trip to ACL. Even the night she’d dropped by after her aborted date, W
ynne had been dressed like a lawyer. Did Wynne dress like that for all her dates? Campbell let her mind wander, and from there it was an easy jump to wondering what the other woman had been like and what was Wynne’s usual type.

  She was still daydreaming when her phone rang and Grace’s number appeared on the dash display. Considering where she was headed, she thought about not answering, but decided that was a jerk move. “Hey, Grace,” she said. “What’re you up to?”

  “Nothing yet. I’m here with Abby and we’ve decided we all need a night of cocktails. We haven’t seen you all week. You can tell us all about the case, and we can fill you in on some firm biz. Are you still at the deposition? Should we pick you up?”

  Campbell ran through her options. She could lie and say the deposition was running late or she could beg off and tell them how it had gone and say that she had to work on the motion to compel which was sort of true. She settled on vague. “I’d love to, but can I beg off tonight? I have to do a thing. Next week when the depositions are over? First two rounds will be on me.”

  “Are you sure?” Abby this time. “The new bartender at Charlie’s is super hot, and word on the street is she’s single. I say we draw straws for who gets the first chance to ask her out.”

  Campbell’s stomach sank with guilt, but it was too late now to confess she was already seeing a super hot woman tonight, so she stuck to her original plan. “Rain check? I promise I’ll make it up to you both. I’ll even pass the bartender your number like the awesome wing woman I am.”

  “Sure, no problem. Next week. It’s a date.”

  Campbell disconnected the call and tried to ignore the pit in her stomach. She didn’t remember ever lying to her friends and certainly not about a girl, but she couldn’t possibly tell Grace after her reaction before, and whenever she did get around to telling her, she wanted to be able to gauge her reaction in person.

  She didn’t have time to ruminate about it much longer before she pulled up in front of Wynne’s house. When she knocked on the door, Wynne called out, “Be right there.” Campbell shifted from one foot to the other, wishing she’d driven around the block rather than showing up early. Poor form, Campbell, poor form.