‘What development is this, Jemma?’
She closed her eyes for a second, summoning her composure before turning.
‘Good evening, Gerard. Tien was bringing me up to date with some information that hasn’t yet made it into the briefing files.’ She toasted her boss with her glass. ‘You know, no rest for the wicked.’ An empty glass. Again. Not a good look, but also not one that would bother Gerard or most anyone else in the profession.
Gerard nodded. ‘Good to hear. I’ll see you Monday morning, then.’
‘Of course,’ she said, as though that had always been her intention.
‘Glass is empty,’ Gerard advised as he turned away. ‘Tickets for this thing are pricey, so make sure you get your money’s worth.’
She hated herself for simpering, but her knees were so wobbly, she couldn’t do much else. When had she gone so soft? She spun to Tien as Gerard was swallowed by the crowd.
‘I thought you meant he was on the warpath.’
Tien held up a placatory hand. ‘Rohan’s doing his best to incite him, but I don’t think that was a get-out-of-jail-free card, do you?’
Tien was right. Gerard chose his words very carefully, and hidden in his pleasantries was a summons.
‘Thing is, Jemma, if you’re not around, I can’t be watching your back all the time. Why don’t you come back into the office?’
‘I have to now, don’t I?’ She frowned as she realised that, for the first time, she was reluctant to head into her elegant office. Somehow, sitting around Evie and Paul’s kitchen table, chatting as she delved into their legal issue, seemed more rounded, more balanced and fulfilling than anything she’d done in … forever. Which made no sense. Their brief wasn’t just not high stakes, it was no stakes. Although not for them, she realised, as she recalled one of the rare occasions Paul’s clownish façade had dropped, the instant he’d looked like an old man confronting—and trying so hard to deny—his mortality. For them, what she could offer mattered deeply. She could provide them security, reassurance. The knowledge that everything they’d worked so hard for wouldn’t be wasted.
‘I mean permanently,’ Tien said, startling her from her introspection. ‘If you don’t, Rohan’s going to screw you over.’
‘I suspect he already has. But … you know. The notes.’ The threats that seemed so distant when she was in Settlers Bridge. Though she was reluctant to admit it, the quiet of the country held an odd magic. A lure that had no place in her obsessive, driven life.
Tien tutted sympathetically. ‘I keep telling you, the easy way out is to have someone live with you for a while. Your place is a two-bed, right?’
‘One.’
‘Lucky I don’t take up much space,’ he joked. ‘I’ll even chain my bike outside.’ He took her empty glass and swapped it for another drink from the waiter, who wound through the room, tray balanced on one hand despite the crush.
She took the drink, blew out a long breath and drew her shoulders back. ‘I’ll keep it in mind. This job—actually, this firm—would be borderline unbearable without you around, you know.’
Tien gave an oddly wistful smile. ‘Maybe we’ll have to run away together.’
She cocked an eyebrow.
‘To another law firm,’ he clarified.
‘Ah. Yes. Perhaps I should be actively looking before I get the arse from this one,’ she said. Gerard wouldn’t dismiss her, but could she stay with GB&A if there was no hope of progressing her career? She frowned. ‘I still don’t understand what Rohan’s endgame is with the Wilkins trial.’
‘He’s been clear about that—to get the criminal case dropped.’
‘Yes, butwhy?’
‘Maybe it escaped your attention, Jemma, but keeping the client happy is our main aim.’
She snorted. ‘That’s our publicly stated focus, sure. But you and I both know the numbers are the main game. Making the big dollars for Gerard.’ She should have gone easier on the drinks: she felt like she was on the brink of a revelation but unable to focus. ‘Closing down the criminal case will achieve the exact opposite. So Rohan’s plan flies in the face of him having a chance at the partnership.’
‘That should make you happy, then.’
She scowled. ‘No. Because I can’t put my finger on thewhy.’
Tien shrugged and started moving away. ‘Above my pay grade, Jemma. Anyway, like Gerard said, I’m going to circulate and get my ticket’s worth. It could be our last feed on the company account, if we jump ship.’
She smiled distractedly. Once Tien got a bee under his bonnet he tended to fixate, every conversation obsessively coming back to the same thing. But she was good at filtering out what he was saying so that she could concentrate on what was important. And right now, she had far too much preying on her mind to pay him a great deal of attention.
