Practice Makes Perfect

by Carsen Taite

  “I know, I know,” Campbell said, “but are you really suggesting we poach someone from our former employers?”

  “Not necessarily.” Grace steepled her fingers like she did when she was deep in thought. “Didn’t you say that Wynne’s secretary is super efficient?”

  Campbell shifted in her chair at the mention of Wynne’s and Grace’s uncanny ability to bring up topics that were festering in the back of her brain. “Yeah, no.”

  “Wait a minute,” Abby said. “It’s not entirely a bad idea. I mean she probably has a lot of the inside scoop about the Leaderboard case, right? Bringing her on board would be a big coup.”

  “Stop it.” Campbell waved her arms for emphasis. “I’m all about working behind the scenes to steal Worth Ingram’s client, but you’re not seriously thinking we can just lure their secretary away while we’re supposed to be working together?” She watched Grace and Abby exchange knowing smiles. “What’s going on?”

  “Why don’t you tell us?” Abby leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

  “Tell you what?” Campbell willed away the nervous edge to her voice. There was absolutely no way Abby or Grace would have any idea about her silly attraction to Wynne. Could they?

  “I ran into Justin yesterday at Jo’s,” Abby said, referring to their favorite coffee joint on South Congress. “He mentioned your little rendezvous at ACL with your ‘hot lawyer friend.’”

  Damn. Campbell scrambled for words. She hadn’t bothered to mention the outing to either Grace or Abby. She’d told herself it was because she hadn’t learned anything on her trip that was relevant to the case, but the truth was she hadn’t wanted to deal with their questions about what exactly she’d been doing with Wynne and why she hadn’t asked them to tag along. This looked bad and she knew it. “I have a confession.”

  “Spill.” Grace leaned forward. “No, let me guess. The new espresso machine was a guilt purchase, yes?”

  “No. I mean, maybe. Okay, yes.” Campbell hung her head.

  Abby raised her mug. “Here’s to more guilt in the near future.” Grace shot her a scowl and Abby shrugged. “Who am I to turn down good coffee? Although next time maybe you can get one of those donut machines where you pour the batter in and then the donuts come out on a little conveyor belt. Clients would love those.”

  “Who are you kidding?” Campbell said, grateful for the distraction. “Clients would never get to taste them after you finished with them.”

  Grace cleared her throat. “Are we going to talk about this, and by ‘this’ I don’t mean donuts or espresso.”

  Campbell stared at them while her feelings tumbled their way through her mind in incoherent strands. Before she could untangle them enough to form a coherent sentence, words started tumbling out. “I like her. I mean she’s infuriating, but she’s hot too and smart. And smart is hot. Like super smart, but stubborn, which is annoying, but there’s something else. Maybe a vulnerability underneath the icy veneer. You know the kind—you just want to melt it, but it’s hard because that’s not what this is about…” She paused to gauge their reactions and was met with blank stares. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

  “Oh, you’re making plenty of sense,” Grace said. “You want to get in our competition’s pants.”

  Was it as simple as that? Campbell rolled the thought around in her head, cycling through the possibilities. The idea of getting in Wynne’s pants, though she hadn’t gone there until just now, was definitely a lure, but it was something else that she couldn’t quite articulate. Something that was distracting her from her work, and if she wasn’t careful it could get in the way of her relationship with Abby and Grace. She shook her head. “I don’t. I mean, maybe I do, but it’s not going to happen. I think I just need a distraction. We’ve all been so busy with work we haven’t had time for a personal life, and if we don’t have time for a personal life then what was the point of starting this venture?” She watched their faces, hoping they believed her words more than she did.

  “You’re right,” Abby said. “As soon as we get things fully up and running, I plan to take a long vacation to an all-inclusive resort. I’m going to toss my phone in the ocean, plant my butt in a lounge chair on the beach, and sip fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them. What about you, Grace?”

  Grace looked back and forth between them as if she wasn’t totally buying into the discussion, and Campbell held her breath. Abby knew her pretty well, but she and Grace had been friends since high school, and she didn’t have high hopes she’d let her revelation go so easily. She was right.

  “Sure, a vacation would be nice,” Grace said, “But I can promise you it won’t involve messing around with one of our rivals.”

  Campbell wanted to argue the point that a girl didn’t always pick who she was attracted to, but she knew it would only deepen Grace’s suspicions. Besides, she wasn’t sure she believed her own argument. She could choose to ignore her attraction to Wynne, and she had to if she was going to get what she really wanted—Leaderboard’s business. She raised her mug. “Let’s toast to having a personal life, after this case is over. Now, about that, I need some help.” She told them about the trip to ACL and how she and Wynne had talked to Rhea Hendricks’s band. “They barely had any dish at all.”

  “And if they had?” Abby asked.

  “I would have gathered intel and reported back.” Campbell started to squirm under Abby’s piercing stare. “Okay, okay, maybe it wasn’t the most well thought out move, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to see if they were willing to talk. Wynne wasn’t having any of it. Not at first anyway.”

  Abby nodded. “Your instincts were spot-on, but maybe Wynne had a point.” She glanced at Grace who gave her a subtle nod. “I know you’re used to busting in with a big plan, but there’s just us three to absorb the fallout. Maybe we should talk strategy together before any one of us goes off the rails in the future.”

  Campbell nodded. She knew Abby was right. She’d been raised to think outside the box, and her creativity was the one thing she could always count on to garner praise, even if it sometimes meant she leaped before she looked. And that was precisely what she was doing with Wynne now that she thought about it. “I promise I’ll play by the rules from here on out, and the only goal I have my sights set on is Leaderboard’s business.”

  They finished up their meeting with a lively discussion about how they were going to find a receptionist who didn’t suck. Campbell participated like she was completely on board, but in the back of her mind she was working on a plan to get thoughts of Wynne out of her head. It wasn’t working.

  * * *

  Wynne looked up to see Stoltz framed in her doorway, and she mentally ran through a list of reasons why he would have come to her instead of summoning her to his office like usual.

  “Braxton hired an investigator. You’ll meet him tomorrow. He wants you to bring that other chick. See if you can get there early and get the jump on her.”

  Before she could sort through the string of pronouns, he was gone and Jennifer appeared in his wake. “Sorry about that,” Jennifer said. “I tried to warn you he was on his way in, but I got caught on a call.”

  “It’s okay. Do you know anything about this?”

  “Not much. Braxton called about it this morning, and he’s already arranged for Campbell to be at the meeting.”

  Campbell. Despite their task of working together, Wynne had managed to avoid seeing Campbell since their weird outing to Austin City Limits. Weird wasn’t quite the word. She’d actually had fun, and for a few moments had managed to forget that she and Campbell were in competition. But the moment Campbell had dropped her off that night, she’d been plotting her own strategy about the Leaderboard case—a strategy she had no plans to share with Campbell. And now this? “I actually have a couple of phone calls in to investigative firms we’ve used in the past. Do you think Braxton really already hired this guy?”

  Jennifer raised her hands. “Your guess is as good
as mine, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  Wynne nodded. Braxton was the kind of client who did what he wanted and asked forgiveness instead of permission. Hiring a PI on his own was probably one of the more harmless things he could do when it came to his case, but still she would’ve appreciated having some input into the selection of the person they’d be working with.

  A few minutes later, Jennifer buzzed her phone. “Your father is on line one.”

  Jennifer’s words were simple and straightforward, but Wynne heard the lilting question in her tone. “Put him through,” she said, willing her voice not to tremble. ” While she waited for the call to connect, she stared at the phone like it was a snake poised to bite her. It had been several months since she’d spoken with either of her parents, and the last conversation had ended like so many others before, but the one thing she’d been able to count on was that they never called her at the office. Until now anyway.

  “Hey, sweetie,” the deep voice oozed through the line. “How are things?”

  “Hi, Dad. I’m really busy right now.”

  “Of course you are,” he replied, his voice starting to take on a slightly indignant edge. “I won’t keep you.”

  “Okay.” She waited, letting the beats of silence tick by until the inevitable happened.

  “Your mother and I are a little short this month. It’s nothing we can’t make up in a few weeks, but the rent is due and there are a couple of repairs around the house that I can’t handle myself. I was hoping you might be able to float us a loan. Not a lot, just a bit to bridge the gap, so to speak…”

  His voice trailed off, and Wynne felt a familiar twinge of guilt for letting him ramble on since they both knew how this conversation would end. He called to ask for money, professing it would be a loan, and she would give him the money, knowing she would never see it again. Neither of them would ever reference repayment, and the next time he called, it would be a new day with new reasons why they were behind on rent, or the electric bill, or the car payment, or whatever. She would never ask for specifics about the cause of the gap, and he would never offer more detail.

  “I’ll transfer some money this afternoon. Anything else?”

  “You mother would love to see you. Lunch on Sunday? It would mean a lot to her.”

  This part of the conversation, the part where the guilt was thrust back in her direction, was familiar as well, but after years of experience she was prepared with a response. “I have to work this weekend, but tell her thanks. I’ll come by sometime next week.” It was a vague promise, and one she wasn’t likely to keep. They both knew it.

  After she hung up, she went back to staring at the files on her desk, but she couldn’t concentrate. Her mind kept wandering back to Campbell Clark, and she wondered if she too had a family she tried to avoid. If the rest of her family were as nice as Campbell’s brother, Justin, then it wasn’t likely. No, people like Campbell Clark had everything going for them from good looks to good family. Those kind of people had no idea what it was like to have to struggle for your dreams and fight to keep other people from stealing the spoils of your hard work.

  Wynne pushed the file in front of her to the side, and a business card fell to the floor. She picked it up and stared at Lane’s name and her cell phone number written in a flowing script. The loops and curls were downright flirty. Maybe she should give fun and flirty a try. Something to take the edge off. She reached for the phone and dialed Lane’s number, ignoring the alarm bells clanging in her head. She waited impatiently through the rings, and when Lane answered, her voice was as silky smooth as Wynne remembered.

  “I was hoping you’d call.”

  “Are you free tonight?” Wynne asked, surprised at her bold move.

  “For you? Yes.”

  Wynne paused, knowing this was the moment when she should tell Lane what she had in mind, but this was as far as she’d planned, and on some level, she’d been prepared for Lane not to take her up on the last-minute invite. Her brain froze while she scrambled to come up with an idea, but Lane swooped in to save her.

  “There’s this wine bar I’ve been wanting to check out. You game?”

  What Wynne knew about wine would fit on the head of a cork, but she’d committed to this lack of a plan plan, and she wasn’t about to back down now. “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Winebelly had an ultra cozy feel that wrapped Wynne in its warmth the moment she walked in, and she took the atmosphere as a good sign for the evening ahead. She smiled at the man behind the host stand.

  “Good evening,” he said. “Welcome to Winebelly. Are you on your own this evening or will someone be joining you?”

  “I’m meeting someone.” Wynne glanced around. “But it doesn’t look like she’s here yet.”

  “No worries. I can go ahead and get you a table, and I’ll make sure she finds you when she arrives.”

  Wynne followed him back to a corner table after looking one more time over her shoulder when she heard the gentle bell of the opening door. She had to admit it was much nicer to say she wasn’t here alone than her usual “Table for one, please,” if only to avoid the sympathetic reaction of the waitstaff when they learned she was all on her own. Those typical reactions were the primary reason she didn’t go out much. Of course, if Lane didn’t show up, then things would be even worse than if she’d been planning to be here by herself. Anxiety buzzed through her and she began to form a contingency plan.

  “Is this okay?” the man asked. “It’s one of our more private tables.”

  “It’s lovely.” Wynne glanced back at the front door. No Lane. “I have to warn you though that my da…” She struggled a second for the right word to refer to Lane before deciding to skip over the reference entirely. “She may have to work late, so I may be on my own.”

  He set the menu on the table. “If that happens, we’ll take extra good care of you.” He motioned for her to take a seat and she did. While he spent the next few minutes reciting the wine list and the specials, including a few delicious sounding Mediterranean tapas, she focused on breathing deep and relaxing, enjoying the welcoming vibe and low-key energy of this little hideaway. If Lane didn’t show, she’d be fine. Maybe this place would become her regular hangout. She’d never had one of those, but she liked the idea. In time, she’d come to know the man at the front door’s name, and he and the rest of the staff would know hers. They’d swap stories about their day while she sampled new wines. She’d never been a big wine drinker, but she would learn. This place would become her place.

  “Wynne, are you starting without me?”

  She looked up, startled at the sound of her name, and saw Lane standing behind the host. Lane was dashing and gorgeous, and her grin was infectious, but Wynne couldn’t help but miss the cozy, peaceful moment she’d been indulging in, and she wished she could get it back. She tried for a flirtatious tone to cover her disappointment. “Not a chance.” She pointed her menu at the man. “My new friend, what’s your name?”

  “Zeke,” he said with a smile.

  “Zeke was telling me everything I need to know to create the perfect evening.” She hoped she could remember some of what he’d said if quizzed on the point.

  “Excellent,” Lane said, edging past Zeke to slide into the booth. She took the other menu from Zeke. “I think I can take it from here.”

  Wynne watched as Zeke’s smile lost some of its brightness at the obvious dismissal. He backed away from the table. “Just wave when you’re ready to order and we’ll send someone over to take care of you,” he said.

  “Okay, thanks.” Wynne looked over at Lane who was running a finger over the choices. “I guess you’ve been here before and already know what you like.”

  Lane cocked her head. “Oh, I definitely know what I like, but it’s not necessarily on this menu.” She pushed it away and focused on Wynne. “I’m so glad you suggested this.”

  Wynne struggled not to squirm under her intense gaze. “Well, you sug
gested it first. And you picked this place, which I’m kind of in love with, by the way.”

  “Really? It’s a little simple for my tastes. I was hoping they’d have a bigger selection. And tapas are so last year.”

  “So you haven’t been here before?”

  “No, but a potential client I’ve been trying to land told me this is his regular place, so I thought I’d give it a try. It’ll give us something to talk about next time I give him a call.” She pointed at the menu. “I’m sure I can find something suitable if you’d like to stay.”

  Wynne held back a frown. Barely. She wanted to stay, but she wasn’t certain she wanted Lane to stay with her. She took a deep breath, and she could almost hear Seth in her head urging her to give the date more than five minutes before bailing. He was right. This was her first date in God knows how long, and she owed it to her potentially spinster future self to try harder, no matter how much she’d rather be home in her pj’s knocking out some of the work that was piling up on her desk. “Let’s stay. You can scope out the place, and maybe it will be better than you think.” She smiled at the irony of her decision but hid her expression behind the menu. “I think I’ll try one of these flights of reds.” She ran a finger down the selections and decided to take charge. “Are you game for a cheese board? The yogurt I ate seven hours ago is no longer doing its job.”

  For a split second it looked like Lane was wavering, but then she closed her menu and slid it across the table. “That sounds perfect. But no Manchego, please. I don’t care for it.”

  Wynne feigned nonchalance that Lane had dissed her favorite cheese, but she quickly brushed it off. Not everyone had the same taste, and she could eat Manchego on her own anytime. A waiter appeared and she placed their order, slightly disappointed that Zeke hadn’t reappeared to take care of them.

  “Why haven’t we met before last week?” Lane asked in between sips of the first wine on the flight, a tasty Malbec.