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"I'm sorry, Deena," her lawyer was saying. "You can't expect to stay in business the way you're spending money. My god, girl! You made almost $300,000 last year, and you're $22,000 in the hole, now!" He shook his head. "I'm glad you and my wife aren't friends," he muttered, walking away. "Oh, and you have to be out of the office by next Thursday," he added, over his shoulder.

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She sat in the sparkling white office in the scratchy, thin paper robe that they make everyone wear. Perched upon the barely cushioned table that sported a pair of metal torture devices that forces women to lie in the most completely vulnerable position, she waited for her turn with an unsympathetic doctor. Yes, Jodi could say without a doubt, that she hated getting her yearly pap smears.

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