Emily stood in front of her open closet with her arms folded, staring at the rows of clothes like they had personally offended her.
"This is a disaster," she muttered. She'd been at it for the past thirty minutes since Jamal informed them about the club hangout.
Mari, sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg crossed over the other, leaned back on her palms and glanced at the clothes. "It's not a disaster. It's just… very Emily."
Emily shot her a look. "Meaning?"
"Meaning everything here says brunch, hospital rounds, or solo coffee dates. Nothing here says clubbing. And honestly, you've never really worried about it before. Remember the dress you wore to the club the last time?" Mari asked, pointing at a black decent dress in the closet.
Emily groaned. She'd never been one to care much about her outfit in the past, but knowing that Callan was coming with them to the club, she wanted to look sexy. She wanted to look like the kind of girls she'd seen with him in the past.
