‘My pay rate. My title.’
‘So nothingmaterial. Where’s the challenge in that?’
‘In my field—not to be confused with yourpaddocks’—she was determined to keep the conversation, the entanglement, the relationship, light—‘every day is a challenge. You continually have to prove your worth.’ She glanced sideways and caught Hamish frowning.
‘That sounds exhausting,’ he said quietly. ‘Like you’re always performing, always waiting for someone to pull the rug out.’
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. ‘It’s not about performance. It’s about being sharp. Staying ahead. If you slip, someone else takes your place.’
‘That’s not ambition, Jemma. That’s fear.’
She didn’t answer—couldn’t. Not when his words landed too close to truths she didn’t want to admit. Damn, this was why Kain had been such a good choice; it never would have occurred to him to question her. ‘Are you seriously lecturingmeon a career you know nothing about?’
‘Hell, no.’ Hamish sounded surprised. ‘You’re the one who brought up the need to achieve and I’m trying to work out whether that’s what drives you, or if you’re operating to survive, rather than thrive.’
She huffed in exasperation. ‘This is a high-pressure job. It’s that expectation, that stress, that keeps me sharp. Without it, what’s the motivation to get a job done?’
‘Pride. Self-satisfaction.’
She squinted, then flipped up the rear-view mirror as the climbing sun ignited the glass. ‘Those can’t exist without competition to measure them against.’
‘Of course they can. You said yourself you’ve ticked off almost everything you set out to do. That means your goals were internal. Personal. Not a contest.’
‘You’re wrong,’ she said flatly, even as his words sparked something uncomfortable inside her. ‘My wins are always against someone: a competitor for the job, the opposing barrister, whoever. Success has a benchmark.’
He shook his head, undeterred. ‘Isn’t happiness the true measure of success? Feeling proud about what you’ve done or achieved because it wasright, not because you’ve outperformed someone else?’ He reached forward to close the vents as the car filled with exhaust fumes.
She bit back the urge to point out that his view was too simplistic. ‘Having a career is about being so successful that no one can ever judge you.’ Again. ‘Not about something as transitory ashappiness.’
‘But can’t that job feed your soul, too? Take mine: it’s not just about the farm or the workshop. It’s about being part of the community too. You saw with Tracey’s backyard, heaps of people turned up to help. Towork. Same happens if someone runs into strife on their farm. Or like when my mum was … sick.’
She’d noticed last night how that loss still pained him.
‘No one in Settlers is just a nameless face,’ he continued, ‘everyone—well, most people—cares. And that’s what gives life meaning and passion: the chance to make a difference for people you actually give a damn about. And then you’re happy, which to me is success.’
‘But I do make a difference,’ she shot back. ‘Society can’t operate without law and consequences.’
‘True. But you said Gerard has you defending cases whether you believe in them or not. So, when you win them—which I’ve no doubt is regularly—do you get to witness thedifference you’ve made? Is there something tangible at the end of your day, something that makes you feel good? Or is the job purely about scoring points?’
Considering the type of clients she sometimes represented, perhaps she wouldn’t care to witness thedifferenceshe’d made to the community. ‘It’s definitely all about the points,’ she said. ‘There is no world in which winning doesn’t equate to success.’
‘I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one,’ Hamish said, somehow managing to sound not the least annoyed.
Normally she’d be confident in and proud of her dispassionate focus, yet Hamish’s easy certainty raised questions that she didn’t care to unpack right then. ‘You’re a bit introspection-heavy for this early—!’ A jolt of clarity interrupted her words, clearing her confusion like the heady scent of eucalyptus after rain. ‘Huh,’ she grunted, surprised into temporary ineloquence. ‘I guess I kind of understand what you mean. I’m doing some pro bono work in Settlers and it does feel … different.’ Jemma wasn’t sure whether to be amazed or appalled at the revelation. ‘Maybe it’s because I care about making sure everything works out for the clients, not just about getting a result on paper.’
To his credit, Hamish didn’t even look smug. ‘Could you do more of this pro bono stuff for other people, not just Evie and Paul?’
‘Hey, I never gave my clients’ names!’
Hamish grinned. ‘Small town. Get used to it. But can you do more of that kind of stuff, if that’s what fills your cup?’
She snorted. ‘Gerard would just love that. We do our seventy-five hours free and not a minute more.’
‘Have you ever considered working somewhere else?’
‘No!’ she blurted, as though Gerard would somehow sense the disloyalty that had been lurking in the back of her mind for a few weeks.
Hamish frowned at the front window. ‘You said you can practise as both solicitor and barrister?’
