Practice Makes Perfect

by Carsen Taite

  Campbell took her eyes off the road for a moment to look at Wynne, surprised to see genuine curiosity reflected in her eyes. “It was okay. We’re in the process of looking for a new receptionist, you’ll be glad to know. It’s kind of amazing to me how many people apply for a job when they have absolutely no experience.”

  “I can’t imagine having to deal with hiring and firing people in addition to all the other work I have on my plate.”

  “But when you make partner, you’ll start to have some administrative responsibilities. You want to make partner, right? I mean, that’s really the only reason to keep working for someone like Stoltz, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but it’s a big firm, and the administrative stuff is dealt with mostly by the managing partner.”

  “Which means you get little to no control over your career.”

  “I have plenty of control.”

  “Name one decision you can make that you don’t have to run by someone else.” Campbell shook a finger in Wynne’s direction. “Something important, not whether or not to buy a client lunch or invite them to sit in the firm’s box seats at a Longhorn game.” She turned back to the road, noting the silence that hung in the air between them.

  “I thought the purpose of this little outing was to get away from the office, but it seems like you want to pick a fight with me.”

  Campbell instantly felt bad for pressing the issue. She wasn’t sure why it was so important that she convince Wynne the path she’d taken was superior, but clearly she was dumping her own issues on Wynne. She couldn’t imagine that Wynne was happy at Worth Ingram, but why did she care? “You’re right. I’m sorry. I actually do have something fun in store for tonight, and it’s only mildly work related.” She pointed to the right at a large crowd standing in line outside the Moody Theater. “We’re almost there.”

  “Where are we?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Campbell watched Wynne’s face for a smile to signal she was joking, but all she saw was a blank stare. “We’re at the Moody. Home of Austin City Limits. The show? Is any of this ringing bells for you?”

  Wynne nodded slowly. “You know I read an article about this place last month. What are we doing here?”

  Campbell smiled broadly. “We’re here to see a taping. Rhea Hendricks is playing here tonight.”

  “You’re kidding? Wait, I thought it was a lottery.” She pointed. “Look at that crowd. We’re never getting in.”

  “Ah, see you do know something about this place.”

  “Only what I read. The article said they don’t sell tickets to the show—you have to sign up for the lottery a few days in advance.” Wynne narrowed her eyes. “Did you sign up this week? Are you really that lucky?”

  “Oh, I’m pretty lucky,” Campbell said before she winced at the suggestive tone she hadn’t intended. “But not that lucky.” She pointed at the line. “We are skipping that action.” She steered the car to the back of the lot and parked in a space marked Staff.

  “Now I’m really confused.”

  “No need. Just trust me.” Campbell watched Wynne’s skeptical expression and brushed it off. This chick was a tough cookie. If she was smart, she’d stop trying to win her over, but Campbell’s instincts told her she was better off giving the appearance they were forming an alliance. It was a little early in the process to get adversarial, especially when part of this game was to pretend they were working together. Earlier that day, she’d watched a TED Talk that Brax had given last year about the benefits of groupthink. While she didn’t think it had been his idea to keep Worth Ingram on the case, she did imagine that her ability to work well with others would be a factor in Leaderboard’s decision about who to give their future business. Time to put that idea to the test. She sent a quick text and then shoved her phone in her purse. “Let’s go.”

  Campbell led the way to the back of the building, taking special notice that Wynne stuck really close. Close enough for her to smell the crisp, clean scent of Wynne’s perfume. Some kind of citrus. Lemons?

  “Are we going in or are we going to stand here and listen from the outside?” Wynne asked, breaking the spell.

  Campbell smiled to cover her lack of focus and knocked on the door. Within seconds, it swung wide to reveal her beaming brother on the other side. “About time,” he said with a lopsided grin.

  “Shut up,” she said, playfully punching him in the shoulder. “Say you’re glad to see me. Say it.”

  “Little bit.”

  They both turned at the sound of a clearing throat to find Wynne staring at them. “Are you going to introduce me?”

  Campbell looped her arm through Justin’s. “Wynne Garrity, meet my big brother, Justin.”

  Wynne nodded. “Nice to meet you.” She reached out and shook his hand. “You work here?”

  “More of a hobby than a job,” he said.

  “More like an obsession,” Campbell said. “Justin was obsessed with Guitar Band when we were growing up, and now he’ll do whatever it takes to be part of the music scene, even if it means working the door.”

  “Hey now,” he said. “Who’s doing who a favor here?”

  “Sorry, bro. Did you manage to snag us seats?”

  “When have I ever let you down?”

  “You want a list?”

  “Are you two always like this?” Wynne asked.

  “Like what?” Campbell said at the exact same time as Justin. “Oh, the sparring? Yes, pretty much. Most people get used to it. Do you have siblings?”

  Wynne’s face clouded over. Campbell instantly knew she’d struck a cord, and she scrambled to ease the tension. “Because if you don’t, you’re lucky.” She pointed at Justin. “This guy tried to steal every girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

  The flash of surprise in Wynne’s eyes was subtle, but Campbell was certain she’d seen it. Surely Wynne already knew she was gay. It wasn’t like she’d had any time to date in law school, but she’d always figured most of the people in their class knew she was a lesbian. The idea that she might have just come out to Wynne standing backstage at ACL made her nervous for some reason. And when she was nervous, she couldn’t stop talking. “Not that I’ve had a ton of girlfriends. I mean, with law school, and work, and then starting a new firm, there hasn’t been much time to date, and—” Campbell stopped abruptly, hearing the replay of her ramblings in her head and wishing she could rewind back to never mentioning girlfriends in the first place. She turned to her brother with pleading eyes. “Justin, aren’t you going to show us around?”

  “Sure, sis,” he said with a grin. “I’ve got a few minutes to spare.” This time he looped his arm through Wynne’s, addressing her instead of Campbell. “What would you like to see?”

  Campbell watched them walk ahead of her, unable to stop staring at Wynne’s butt. She blamed the jeans. It had to be the jeans or she would’ve noticed before exactly how tight and round and—

  “Are you going to join us?”

  Campbell looked up, straight into Wynne’s eyes which were twinkling with mischief. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Wynne smiling so broadly, and she enjoyed the shine of her smile. Almost enough to forget the embarrassment of being caught ogling.

  * * *

  Wynne tried to focus on what Justin was saying, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Campbell staring at her. Like she was interested. In that way.

  Not a chance. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard Campbell was a lesbian. Seth had told her he knew it for a fact, but he had a tendency to exaggerate the power of his gaydar, and leaned toward thinking everyone played for their team. But she was taken off guard a little by how easily Campbell mentioned the subject, like sharing deeply personal information was no big deal. She hoped Campbell wasn’t expecting reciprocity. To deflect, she turned her attention to Justin. “Show me your favorite thing about this place.”

  “My favorite thing is the Willie Nelson statue outside, but we don’t have time to check that out. This visit, anyway.” Justin led
the way out to where they could see the stage. “No seat in the theater is more than seventy-five feet from the stage.” He pointed toward the ceiling. “Upstairs there’s a photo gallery featuring the work of Jim Marshall, the former staff photographer for Austin City Limits. It’s the largest collection of his work, and it’s pretty amazing.”

  “Justin thinks anything to do with this place is amazing,” Campbell said with a teasing tone. “He’s been obsessed with the show since we were kids.”

  “How did you wind up working here?” Wynne asked, curious about the backstory.

  “Lots of patience and a bit of stalking. I volunteered a million years ago, but it took me forever to get a gig, and I’m still just a volunteer.”

  “A volunteer with backstage passes,” Campbell whispered behind her hand. “Although he’s kind of stingy about sharing.”

  “Then I feel special,” Wynne said, hoping Campbell didn’t read a double meaning into her words. Well, half hoping. Part of her enjoyed the idea of being here with Campbell, away from the office, the stacks of files, and the demanding clients. She could barely remember the last time she’d been on a date. Not that this was a date, but it was as close as she’d been in a very long time. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “There’s a couple of tables set up with food in the back. I’ll drop you off and you can mingle with whoever you find back here. Just remember to be super quiet when the show starts since they’re filming. The set won’t be long, and we can meet up after.” He looked at Campbell. “Right?”

  “Right.”

  Campbell swept her hand through the air, motioning for Justin to lead the way, and then she reached back toward Wynne. Wynne stared down at her outstretched hand, scrambling to decide how to react, when Campbell waved her forward. “Let’s go.”

  And just like that, the situation defused and Wynne wondered if she’d imagined that Campbell had been reaching for her hand. Of course, she’d imagined it. The question was, why was her mind even going there? Focus, focus. She breathed deep and smiled. “Lead the way.”

  Less than an hour later, after grazing through the craft services table and watching the band set up, she and Campbell were perched on a couple of stools in the wings, listening to Rhea Hendricks’s sultry country folk ballads. Wynne risked a side glance and watched Campbell sway in time with the ballad as if she were transported to another place. Before she could look away, Campbell turned and smiled like she was pleased to see Wynne watching her.

  “You like?” Campbell whispered.

  “I do. Not my usual fare, but it’s really nice. Very mellow.”

  Campbell pointed toward the stage. “I love this part.”

  Wynne listened to Rhea sing a soulful refrain about a forever kind of love, and the way she dug deep into the notes made her believe she was relaying a real life experience. She watched Campbell be transported by the melody, and for a moment, she let herself go along for the ride. The words, the tune, everything about the moment, was magical, and she felt suspended in time, completely free.

  The set ended too soon, and when it did Wynne stayed on the stool, unsure what Campbell had planned next. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “Ready to meet the band?”

  “What?”

  “The band. Justin said that Rhea has an interview with a reporter from Texas Monthly right after the show, but we can have a few minutes with the rest of the band before they go out to meet their fans.”

  Being backstage was one thing, but Wynne had no desire to kill the magic of the evening with the reality of the people behind it. “I’m not much of a groupie. I think I’ll just wait for you.”

  Campbell laughed. “Groupie? That’s cute. Seriously, come with me to talk to them. You never know—they might have some dirt on their lead singer. If nothing else, we might get some leads we can follow up on later.”

  Wynne’s brain started clicking as the spell of the music faded away and she started to grasp what Campbell had in mind. “Wait a minute. You want us to talk to them about the case?”

  “Of course, that’s why we’re here.”

  “We can’t do that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what if they do say something that we can use at trial? Neither one of us can be a witness, so if they get on the stand and change their tune,” she winced at the unintended pun, “then we can’t contradict them. If you want to interview witnesses, we need to do it the right way, with a private investigator.”

  “Seriously?” Campbell stood with her hands on her hips, all semblance of the misty-eyed, concertgoer gone. “You’re really lecturing me on the rules of civil procedure right now?”

  “It kind of seemed like maybe you needed a refresher course.”

  “Next, you’re going to tell me that because you made better grades than I did, you get to call the shots.” Campbell wagged a finger. “Not even. I know what I’m doing. Remember, I’ve been doing this exactly as long as you, and I don’t have to answer to someone like Stoltz. I actually run my own shop now.”

  “You might just run it into the ground if you’re not careful.” Wynne started to say more, but an exaggerated throat clearing behind her interrupted her spin.

  “Uh, ladies, you might want to take it down a notch or you’re going to get us kicked out,” Justin said, touching a finger to his lips.

  Campbell frowned. “Sorry, guess we got a little exuberant. Can we still meet the band?”

  “No worries. Come on.”

  Wynne watched Campbell follow her brother, acting like nothing had happened, while she stood in place, still trying to process their interaction. Nothing was resolved, yet Campbell acted like it was. How did she do that?

  As if she could read minds, Campbell looked back over her shoulder. “Are you in?”

  Wynne wavered. Clearly, Campbell was going to talk to the band whether she did or not. She could join her or be left behind. What if Campbell discovered something really important to the case and shared it with Braxton, claiming all the glory? She couldn’t let that happen. If there was glory to be claimed, she wasn’t going to stand by and watch Campbell hog it all. Campbell’s words echoed. If she wanted a partnership, which she did, she did have to answer to Stoltz, and she had no doubt what Stoltz would do in this circumstance. Not that she wanted to ever be part of the What Would Stoltz Do club, but maybe she could make an exception to the rules to take advantage of this opportunity. Telling herself it would just be this once, Wynne plastered a big fat fake smile on her face. “Oh, I’m definitely in.”

  Chapter Ten

  Monday morning, Campbell carried three cups of mocha java into the office conference room to meet with Abby and Grace. She’d made the coffee with the new machine she’d purchased over the weekend. She’d told herself the new coffee maker was to help her cope with Monday mornings, but in truth her bout of retail therapy had been to cope with an entirely different problem, and that problem’s name was Wynne Garrity. Despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to get Wynne out of her head. Not lawyer Wynne, but sexy, cute butt in denim Wynne. It was time for a meeting with her peeps to sort things out.

  “Okay, everyone. I’ve called you here for two reasons, the first of which is to try this amazingness.” Campbell set two of the cups down and raised hers to her mouth, taking a moment to let the velvety foam caress her lips. “Delicious,” she murmured. She pointed to Grace’s cup which was still sitting on the conference room table where she’d placed it. “Aren’t you going to try it?”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s delicious.”

  “Then drink up, woman. Or are you mad at me for spending the money on the espresso machine? Because I’m telling you if you are, your anger is misplaced. Clients will flock to our offices to partake of this java wonder. Trust me. A cup of this and one of those donuts from that amazing food truck outside Leaderboard, and we’ll have them eating out of our hands.”

  “Literally,” Abby said. “Make a note. If the law gig doesn’t work o
ut, we can open a coffee shop, but count me out as the one to get up early to make the donuts.” Her aversion to early mornings was well known to all of them.

  Grace shook her head. “How could I be mad about a nice Sumatra? It’s like you don’t know me.” She took a sip and sighed. “That’s wonderful. But you know what’s not wonderful?” She barely waited two beats before launching in. “Madge quit.”

  “Who’s Madge?” Campbell asked.

  “Uh, the receptionist. Not the one that mixed up your meeting with Wynne, but the one after that. You know, the one I hoped would be the last one I had to hire because unlike the others, she wasn’t crazy. At least not in an obvious way.”

  “Was she the one with the beehive hairdo?” Abby asked.

  Grace glared in response, and Campbell said, “It’s official. I’m going to stop learning their names until they stick around for at least a month. Why did she quit?”

  “She had her palm read over the weekend and her lifeline said that she was going to meet the love of her life at the beach.”

  Campbell waited for Grace to start laughing, or do something to show she was kidding, but she got nothing. “Hold up. I thought you said she wasn’t crazy.”

  “Crazy is relative when it comes to hiring receptionists, apparently.”

  “Okay,” Abby said. “But I’m still not getting why she abandoned us.”

  “She’s moving to Galveston to broaden her prospects,” Grace said.

  “Well, that makes perfect sense,” Campbell replied.

  “Focus, people,” Grace said. “I think we need a different approach to our employee search. The online ads aren’t cutting it.”

  Campbell took another sip of coffee. “What do you suggest?”

  “Between the three of us we should be able to come up with some names. If we weren’t satisfied working for big firms, surely there has to be support staff who hate it there too.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Abby said. “The only people who have it worse than associates are secretaries and paralegals. The senior partner in my section called our secretary when she was on a cruise to ask her where she kept the paper clips.”