The dessert was all store-bought. The chocolate cake was from my favorite bakery and particularly decadent—and vegan to boot. I also put out vanilla Häagen-Dazs and Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey vegan ice cream. To my surprise, Stuart broke out the one bottle of cognac we owned. Richard was more than happy to accept his offer of an after-dinner drink. Ed gave in to the peer pressure and joined them.

“Ladies?” my husband asked, waving the bottle.

“No thank you,” Kate said. “I’ve had enough.”

“I’m game if you are,” Lauren said to me.

“Sure, why not?” I said, even though I was already tipsy.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had cognac, except to recall that on that prior occasion, I didn’t like it. It tasted too strong, too alcoholic. It was likely because of my inebriation, but this time I found it to be utterly delicious. Like a warm bath completely enveloping my body. Although I knew I should resist the feeling of being swept away, I couldn’t help but welcome the relief my buzz was delivering.

From the looks on the faces of my guests, it was clear that I was not the only one feeling no pain. Lauren’s cheeks were flushed, and there was a calmness in her eyes that I’m not sure I’d ever seen before. She was no longer looking over at her husband every thirty seconds, as she had been earlier in the evening.

She and I had fallen into a discussion about work, excluding the rest of the table as they talked about a recent national political scandal. The others were loud, but Lauren and I spoke in a stage whisper, as if we were involved in a secret conspiracy.

Without any segue, Lauren broke from talking about the Humphries case, a particularly disturbing child-abuse situation in which the mother had been burning her daughter’s backside, and said, “This was wonderful. I’m so glad that you thought to invite us.”

I leaned in closer to her; I could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. “I was nervous about it. You know . . . worlds colliding and all.”

“Don’t be silly,” Lauren said. “Tonight only proved to me what I’ve suspected since we first met.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“That you’re a woman not only of extraordinary ability, but also of secret talents.”

30.

30.

For some reason, the DA’s office does performance reviews in the middle of the calendar year. Lauren referred to the exercise as “the black hole of being a supervisor.”