After Hours by Rochelle Alers

that said that Dina Gordon had been given a second chance to live a normal life and she wasn’t about to blow it by not making it to an interview on time.
    Pushing to her feet, she extended her hand. “I’ll let you know how everything works out.”
    Karla stood up and took her hand. “Please keep in touch. Good luck, Dina.”
    â€œThank you, Mrs. King.”
    â€œYou’re welcome. I think it’s time you call me Karla.”
    The glow of Dina’s smile reached her luminous eyes. “Thank you again—Karla.”
    Dina was there, then she was gone, closing the door softly behind her. Karla admired and respected the former Adina Jenkins. She’d fled her abuser and taken his money.
    She was a woman after her own heart.

CHAPTER 21
    D ina felt as if she were walking on air. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt free, free of the demons that’d haunted her for as long as she could remember.
    She’d taken the train from Trenton with her prized birth certificates clutched to her chest and a silly grin on her face. A few times she’d caught other passengers staring at her with strange expressions on their faces. One woman who’d sat down next to her had kept inching farther and farther away until she’d finally changed her seat. Oblivious to everyone and everything going on around her, she’d closed her eyes and mentally planned her next move.
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    As soon as Dina returned to the motel she went through her closet for something to wear to her “interview.” Even the word sounded foreign. She, who’d never worked a day in her life, was going to get a legitimate nine-to-five. Staring at the garments on the hangers, she reached for a pair of slacks and a blouse.
    She’d added a few more garments to her meager wardrobe when she’d gone shopping, and, if hired, she probably would wear a uniform, but she still needed clothes if she was to become a working girl.
    Flopping down on the bed, she picked up a pad and pen and wrote down her to-do list: get a job, find an apartment and apply for a social security card. A driver’s license wasn’t a priority because she couldn’t afford a car. Even a hooptie wasn’t an option. She’d kept a mental running total of how much money she had left, and it was a long way from the twenty thousand she owed Payne. Living at the motel was steadily draining her funds.
    The phone rang, startling her. Reaching over, she picked up the receiver. The only time the phone rang was when someone at the front desk called. “Hello.”
    â€œMs. Jenkins, this is the front desk. There is a delivery for you.”
    Her nerves tensed as acute panic held her captive. Did a delivery translate into someone had discovered her whereabouts? “Is there a name?” she asked the desk clerk.
    â€œLet me check the card…. It’s from L. Haynes.”
    She whispered a silent prayer. “Thank you. I’ll come get it.”
    Retrieving her key, she left the room, nodding to the woman assigned to cleaning the rooms on her floor. The only upside of staying in the motel was that she didn’t have to clean up after herself. Housekeeping made the bed, cleaned the bathroom, dusted and vacuumed. Each time she left and returned to the room she checked to see if anything was moved or missing. Her greatest fear was returning to find the contents of her backpack gone.
    She entered the lobby and stopped short. Lance had sent her a large bouquet of pale pink roses in a tall vase filled with colorful marbles. Several people who were checking in stared at her as she attempted to carry the vase. It was a lot heavier than it looked. They stared, but not one offered to help her.
    Struggling under the weight, Dina made it back to her room and plucked the card off the cellophane. Men had given her money, clothes, furs, but never flowers. She read Lance’s neat print: I’d be honored if you