‘Gold star.’
‘Ego and rating both noted.’
She huffed a laugh—the kind that seemed to come easily when Hamish was around. ‘I was awarding the star to you for your listening skills.’
‘Fair. But obviously I need to work on my comprehension, because I don’t get why you’d stick with a job that you’re not crazy about.’ He twisted to face her. ‘Life’s long—at least, if we’re lucky. You’re not locked into the firm forever, right?’
‘I owe GB&A my allegiance,’ she said as she parked parallel to kilometres of creamy sand. ‘Gerard’s a bit of a rebel—started up his own firm and then took a risk on me, putting me on as a law clerk while I was still at uni.’
‘Sound business management,’ Hamish said. ‘Cultivating the staff he wants to keep.’
‘There are always plenty of law students to choose from.’
Hamish grinned. ‘Unexpectedly humble.’
‘I try,’ she lied. ‘But because Gerard’s kept GB&A small—or boutique, as he prefers to term it—I’ve had the opportunity to work my way up the ladder. Well, until now.’ She gave a rueful grin. ‘I might have just hit a snake.’
‘So maybe it’s time to roll the dice again?’ he said as he opened the car door.
She shook her head. ‘Adelaide is built on generational law firms. Unless you’re born into it—or a Saints boy—career opportunities are all about who you know, not what you know.’
‘Saints boy?’ he said.
‘St Peters college. I swear, half of the law fraternity originated there. But, although Gerard was never part of that culture, the industry in Adelaide is inbred. One bad word from him—or even the perception that I was jumping ship—could do for my career opportunities.’
‘So set up your own practice. Do it your way. That’d be where the real challenge lies.’ He was inside her head, uncomfortably poking the secret dream that lurked.
‘You have to be ballsy to branch out on your own in this town.’
‘And you’re not ballsy?’ His question held just the right amount of disbelief to unsettle her equilibrium.
‘Besides, why are you limiting yourself to Adelaide? With your qualifications, your ducks are well and truly in a row. Surely you can go anywhere?’
She set off along the raised promenade, trying to quell the voice of temptation in her head. His idea was ludicrous. She could have struck out on her own years ago, but had taken the safe route, the path that she knew would lead to success without risking the humiliation of failure.
As Hamish caught up, matching his pace to hers, he turned up the collar of his shirt and pushed his hands into his pocket.
‘Speaking of ducks,’ she said, relieved to change the intensity of their conversation, ‘Evie said she’s been waiting for Tara to come and pick some up.’
‘Some of her fancies? I didn’t think Tara was into poultry.’
Jemma nestled into the cashmere scarf she had looped around her neck, breathing damply as she tried to recall what it was about the conversation that had piqued her interest. ‘No, it was some ducklings Tara had picked up on the road.’
Hamish’s steps faltered. ‘Ducklings. That’s weird.’
‘Wouldn’t have thought it was that weird to you country types.’
‘No, not the ducklings themselves. It’s just … I feel like I’ve heard something about them before.’
‘Duckling déjà vu. Evie’s story was something about them being hit by a ute and Tara was supposed to be picking them up to take to … Charlee someone?’
‘Charlee Brennan. Yeah, that checks out, she does some wildlife rescue,’ Hamish said, though his tone was still puzzled.
They ordered coffee. Hamish reached for his wallet, but didn’t argue as she tapped the card reader with her phone. Takeaway cups in hand, they wandered back to the esplanade.
Hamish lifted his chin toward the frothy fringe separating beach and ocean. ‘Not getting our toes wet?’
‘The view across the gulf is better from up here. Plus, I hate sand in the bed.’
