Simone stepped out of the car as Cynthia skirted the front. Her blonde hair bounced in loose natural curls as if she 'd only jumped out of bed and let her hair dry. She was casual in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. But what Simone noticed most was how comfortable she was in her own skin. Simone had never had that, no matter how she carried herself.

She looked down at her own clothes. Casual, she thought, but her red high heels peeked from the bottoms of her black slacks. Her bright, billowy, flower print, silk shirt clung to her skin in the Tennessee heat. A large chunky ring adorned her right ring finger. Pearls dangled from her ears and lay against her neck and wrist. She 'd left her hair down, but even she hadn 't thought it looked classy enough when she 'd left the house.

All put together, and she still didn 't have the confidence Cynthia had as she opened the front door to the building. "Are you coming? "

"Yes. I am just a bit nervous. "

"With that accent they 're going to eat you up. And in a good way, " she added.

All heads in the waiting area turned as they walked through the door. A few of the people gave a nod to Cynthia, but all eyes scanned over Simone. One woman seated in the corner with a baby looked up at Cynthia and she quickly moved right to her.

"Regina, what are you doing here again? " The woman looked up at her and her face had been bruised.

Simone felt her knees begin to buckle and she bent them slightly to keep from toppling over. Someone had hit the woman with the baby, and the way Cynthia looked at her, this wasn 't the first time.

Regina responded to Cynthia in Spanish, but Simone didn 't understand. But the message was clear.

Cynthia shook her head and then gave Regina a hug. She 'd reassured her by saying something to her quietly. Regina nodded and Cynthia smiled and then ran her hand over the baby 's head.

Her demeanor had changed when she headed back to Simone. "C 'mon. I 'll introduce you to Marsha. She 's in charge. "

Cynthia led her through the closed door and into the clinic. Curtains were drawn aroun1d beds. Babies were crying and chirps from machines were heard over the shuffling of feet and words spoken in whispers. Cynthia didn 't seem to notice any of it as she led Simone to an office at the end of the hall.

She tapped on the open door and the large black woman who sat behind the desk smiled wide. "What are you doin ' here? It 's your day off. "

"I brought you a new data entry clerk. " She nodded to Simone.

Simone stepped into the office, which she thought might have once been a closet. There was hardly enough room for all three of them and the desk.

Marsha looked her over. "You sure look fancy for wanting to work in a clinic. "

"I assure you, I can do the job, Ms "

"Ooo, fancy French accent. " Marsha shifted her glance to Cynthia. "Where did you find her? "

"Curtis Keller. " His name rolled from Cynthia 's tongue and it gave Simone an uneasy feeling. What would he think if he knew she was using his name to find herself a job.

"Well " Marsha 's eyes widened and lit up. She held out her hand and shook Simone 's. Her large hand enveloped Simone 's petite fingers. "You come with some power behind you. If you 're a friend of Curtis Keller 's you must be something special. "

Simone would have like to have thought so, but she wasn 't sure Curtis felt the same way. "Thank you. But I am quite positive that I can do the job Cynthia has proposed even without Mr. Keller 's endorsement. "

"Uh-huh. " Marsha crossed her arms over her broad chest. "Well, first the name is Marsha. No need for any fancy manners here. And second, can you type? "

"Yes. "

"Can you file? Fax? Email? "

Simone gave her a confident smile, one she 'd rehearsed most of her life. "Yes, Ms. -Marsha -I am quite proficient in all of those areas. "

Marsha gave her a slow nod. "We have a dress code. You 're dressed a bit too fancy for it. "

Simone swallowed hard. She was quite appropriately dressed for any position in any co1mpany. "And what would the dress code be? "

"Scrubs. Can you handle that? "

"Scrubs? "

Cynthia leaned in toward her. "Like wearing your jammies to work all day. "

She looked at the outfit that Marsha wore, it was purple with big pockets and sheep on it. This must be the attire they recommended, though Simone couldn 't imagine why. "Oh, I am sure it won 't be a problem. "

Marsha nodded again, slowly. "Well, if you come with such shiny recommendations from Cynthia and Curtis you must be one hell-of-a gal. "

Cynthia held up a hand as if to add more. "She comes pretty well recommended. Let me drop a few more names for you. Zach and Regan Benson and of course Audrey Benson. "

"Well, girl. You are connected aren 't you? "

Simone felt heat fill her cheeks. "I have been blessed with some wonderful friendships. "

"Uh-huh. " Marsha sat back down in her chair and pulled a file from the drawer beside her. "Here. As far as I 'm concerned you 're over qualified for this piddle job, but if you want it, it 's yours, honey. "

She handed Simone the file. "You start tomorrow at nine. Scrubs. " She emphasized with a look that scanned over Simone from head to toe. "Bring in the paperwork and we 'll get you started training. "

Simone couldn 't believe that by dropping a few names she 'd landed a job. If it were this easy why were there so many people out of work? And even funnier it wasn 't her father 's name that had to be dropped, but Curtis and his family 's. She could do this. She could prove that she was capable of taking care of a job, and wearing scrubs -whatever they were. A hint of excitement brewed in her belly. So this was what independence felt like? She liked it.

She held out her hand to Marsha, who shook it again. "Thank you, Marsha. I appreciate the job and the opportunity. "

"Girl, I think the men are going to eat up that accent. " She laughed. "Oh, and you 'll want to leave any of that fancy jewelry at home. "

Simone looked down at her hands. Certainly that wasn 't fancy jewelry she wore, but she nodded as Cynthia pushed her out of the cramped office before she turned back toward Marsha.

"Hey, Regina is back. " Her voice had dropped and sadness echoed in its tone.