“It is what it is. I don’t need the credit, just the convictions.” Scarlett lived for putting the bad guys away. It was the reason she’d studied criminal justice and had gone into law. The basis for why she’d chosen prosecution over defense as a career. She had a distinct disdain for people who committed crimes and got away with them and made it her mission to prevent those kinds of occurrences from happening.

She glanced at the photo of Hank, her younger brother, forever immortalized at sixteen years old, sitting on her desk. The picture never let her forget the reasons for her dedication to her work. Neither did the bracelet she wore that he’d given her when she turned eighteen. He’d worked at the corner grocery store and bought her what he could afford. A thin chain with a heart and she never took it off.

Leigh nodded. “And I respect that. But you only turn thirty once, and I have a connection that can get us into Club TEN29 tonight.” She dropped the name as if it was an incentive to get Scarlett to change her mind about going out.

“I’ve never heard of the place.”

At the admission, Leigh rolled her eyes. “Of course you haven’t because all you do is work. If you picked your head up out of those files once in a while, you’d know it’s the hot club in the city and we’re lucky to get our names on a list to get in. They have live entertainment. Did you know they had a grand reopening with Lola Corbin and Charlotte Jasper?” She waggled her eyebrows at the mention of the well-known, popular rock stars.

Even Scarlett, who buried her head in work, knew of them both and was impressed.

“And the club is not the same old watering holes the stuffy people around this office go to,” Leigh said, continuing to push. “We could go out, let loose. Come on, you deserve it!”

Scarlett smiled at her persistent friend. “Fine. You’re not going to let this go, so I might as well give in.” She placed her pen down on the desk.

“Yay! I just happen to have an extra skirt and top in my bag for you to wear.”

“Naturally,” Scarlett muttered.

Leigh was nothing if not always prepared. She’d probably come to work today with this plan already in mind, knowing if she’d asked Scarlett in advance she’d have said no.

“Well, you’re not going out looking like a prudish schoolmarm from another century,” Leigh said with a disdain-filled glance at Scarlett’s black pencil skirt and matching silk top. Her striped jacket hung on the back of her chair.

Scarlett burst out laughing at the description. Going to court necessitated a certain staid look, and Leigh not only knew it, she followed the unspoken rules on the days she had to do the same. Even today, Leigh wore a pair of dark trousers, a white camisole, and a blazer. No doubt she had her own short dress to change into later.