something—in doing so she happened to notice the label, it had been tailor-made in London. She smirked; of course it had been. She remembered back to their fight in the library and the smug way J.D. had said—
“What the hell are you doing?”
Payton froze at the sound of his voice.
She immediately knew how it must’ve looked, her holding a coffee cup in one hand, his stained suit in the other. And a smirk on her face.
Payton looked and saw J.D. standing in the doorway with a very pissed-off expression. He held his briefcase, as if he was prepared to leave for court, and of course he was impeccably dressed in a tailored shirt and pants that fit him perfectly.
She had no idea why she just noticed that.
Moving on.
She turned to J.D. to explain. “I was looking for the receipt for the Gibson’s dinner.”
J.D. ignored her. He pointed. “Is that coffee on my jacket?”
“Yeeee . . . s.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, I see. Maybe you thought I stashed the Gibson’s receipt in a Starbucks cup?”
Payton went for a joke. “It’s not my way of filing things, but . . .” she trailed off.
He was not amused.
J.D. took her in with a mocking tilt of his head. “That’s awfully passive-aggressive for you, isn’t it?”
Payton stared at him. Of course he thought she did this on purpose.
Now she folded her arms across her chest. “You’ve got to be kidding.” She had been about to apologize, but now, well . . . screw him. She didn’t feel like it anymore.
“So, what is this, your feeble attempt at sabotage?” J.D. asked scornfully. “Let me guess—you heard I’m in court for a hearing this afternoon, so you thought you’d make me look like a jackass.”
“You don’t need any help from me there.”
J.D.’s eyes narrowed angrily.
“And I hardly need to resort to sabotage to be the one that the firm makes partner,” Payton added.
“Actually, I think you must be really worried, if you’re willing to stoop to this level.” J.D. held up a finger, victorious. “But luckily, I keep a spare suit in my office.”
J.D. shut his door, gesturing to a garment bag that hung on the back of it. He unzipped the bag and proudly pulled out a second suit, one that was just as expensive-looking. He draped the suit over one of the chairs in front of his desk and stared at Payton smugly. Ta-da.
She rolled her eyes at him. “You know, I was going to explain, but now it’s not even worth it.” She brushed by J.D. to leave his office, momentarily forgetting she still held both his jacket and the coffee cup.
“An easy cop-out.”
Payton stopped at his words.
Cop-out?
Cop-out?
Payton Kendall did not cop out.
She turned around to face him.
With a cocky grin, J.D. took a seat at his desk. He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “Something you’d like to say before leaving, Payton?”
He was baiting her, she knew it. She considered letting it go. She could turn around and walk out of his office without another word. In two weeks, one way or the other, she would never have to deal with him again.
J.D. mistook Payton’s pause for hesitation.
“In that case,” he said, nodding at the suit jacket she still held, “I’ll expect you to get that dry-cleaned at a decent place. Just make sure you have it back to me before they boot your ass out of here.” Dismissing her, he turned back to his work.
Payton sighed. Oh, well. She had tried.
“No problem, J.D.,” she said good-humoredly. “And while I’m at it, how about your second spare suit? Does that need to be dry-cleaned, too?”
J.D. looked up from his computer, confused. “I don’t have a second spare suit.”
“Oh. That’s a shame.” And with that, Payton tore the lid off the Starbucks cup and promptly dumped the remaining coffee all over the suit he had so neatly laid out over the chair.
J.D.’s mouth dropped open. He slowly peered up at her. “Oh. No. You. Didn’t.”
Payton looked down at the suit. Holy shit, she had, she really had.
She covered her mouth to mask her own look of shock. Whoops. But it was too late to turn back now.
“You can bill me for the dry cleaning, J.D. And, um, for the cup of coffee, too.” With that, she delicately set the now-empty coffee cup on his desk.
Then did a quick about-face à la Road Runner and got the hell outta there.
Payton hurried across the hallway, flying by J.D.’s secretary’s