Interrupted by the sound of Ben’s voice, Payton and J.D. looked over and saw him standing in his doorway.

“Shall we?” Ben gestured for them to join him in his office.

J.D. caught Payton’s eye as they headed inside, seeming to find Ben’s interruption as inconvenient as she. They had barely taken their seats in front of the desk when Ben got right down to business.

“So I got a call from Jasper this morning,” he began. “Apparently they’ve had a little shake-up in the Gibson’s legal department. He fired the general counsel—probably a smart move since the guy obviously didn’t do a very good job of preventing this mess they’re in. The new GC started on Monday and, not surprisingly, is eager to meet with some of the people at our firm who will be working on the case. Jasper specifically asked whether either—or both—of you might possibly be free to fly down tomorrow for a meet and greet with him and the new general counsel. He acknowledged that this was short notice, but said he thought that since tomorrow is Friday, there was a chance the two of you might be free in the evening from your other work commitments.”

Ben cleared his throat. “Obviously, Jasper isn’t aware of the situation here, that one of you will not be continuing on in this matter. And I think it’s best that he not be made aware of that fact until the partnership decision has been announced.” Leaning back in his chair, he sighed melodramatically. “Given the circumstances, I find it a little awkward to ask you two to do this. Although, with the decision being this close—”

“I’ll go,” J.D. said.

Ben stopped and looked over. He appeared pleased by the definitiveness with which J.D. had responded. “Good.” He nodded his approval, then turned. “What do you say, Payton?”

She could feel J.D.’s eyes on her as she answered.

“I’ll go, too.”

Ben smiled. “Great. I’ll call Jasper and let him know to expect you both.” He glanced over at J.D. “You get there early enough, Jameson, you might even be able to squeeze in a round. Palm Beach has some great courses. I think the last time I was there was over three years ago. We went in May and it was nearly ninety degrees. And humid as all hell.” He pointed. “You two better prepare yourselves. It’s going to be a hot and steamy trip.”

It took every ounce of Payton’s strength not to react to that.

Twenty-one

THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT set Payton’s meal down in front of her.

“And one vegetarian entree for you,” she said efficiently before turning to serve lunch to the passengers across the aisle.

Seated next to Payton, J.D. didn’t even bother to look up from his Wall Street Journal.

“Vegetarian? Now there’s a surprise.”

“About as surprising as you turning first to the financial section of the paper.”

J.D. shrugged. “So? I have a few investments.”

“I have investments. You have a portfolio,” Payton emphasized.

J.D. felt the need to set the record straight. He put down his paper and turned in his seat to face her.

“Payton, I have to tell you something, and I know this is going to come as a shock, but it’s better you hear it now.” He leaned in consolingly. “You have money.” He shook his head. What a shame.

Payton waved this off. “Please. You have money. I have a job that pays well. There’s a difference.”

“We make the same exact salary.”

“But you have an extravagant lifestyle.”

J.D. laughed at that. Did he now? Maybe in her eyes, he supposed. She was a walking contradiction and completely oblivious to that fact.

“You have five-hundred-dollar shoes,” he pointed out.

“Not anymore.”

J.D. cleared his throat. Probably best if they just moved on to another topic.

He watched as Payton picked at her sandwich, some sprouty/all-natural/no-taste concoction. Since they were flying business class, they had seats together, just the two of them. They could talk about anything and not be overheard, although so far Payton’s conversation with him throughout the flight had consisted entirely of business-related talk and/or sass. Perhaps it was time to shake things up.

“So . . . you didn’t say why you broke up with Chase.”

“You’re right, I didn’t say.”

“Are you avoiding the subject?”

Payton put her sandwich down and turned to face him. “Why don’t we talk about you for a change?”

Realizing he really needed to refine his subject-changing skills, J.D. struck a nonchalant look. “What about me?”

“Well, you’re thirty-two years old—”

“The same age as you.”

“—and still single,” she finished. “Aren’t you supposed to be married by now to a Muffy or a Bitsy or some other society type with a brain as big as this pickle?”

J.D. peered over. “That’s a pretty big pickle.”

Payton smiled. “So? What gives?”

J.D. couldn’t help but look as, while waiting for his answer, Payton crossed one high-heeled leg over the other, notably in his direction. Did she know the effect she had on him? He suspected she did. It was a little dance they did, the way they both conspicuously avoided talking about what had happened in her apartment the other night. He had a feeling that there was more behind her “innocent” questions regarding his love life than she wanted to let on. But he had no intention of cutting the game short. Not yet, anyway.