I’m sitting in the café which I frequently go to because I love their Latte when I can feel that someone is staring at me. I turn my head and my eyes meet those of a very beautiful African American woman. As we lock eyes for what seemed like eternity, I debate whether or not to walk over there or simply walk out. It hasn’t been that long since my marriage ended after I found out that my wife was cheating on me. Her betrayal still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Relationships are the last thing on my mind right now.
The owner of the café, a jovial man walks over to her and she looks up at him. He leans over and says something to her. She grabs her handbag and immediately leaves. The owner comes over to me and says in a low voice, “I saw her making eyes at you,” he said. “I don’t want her business in here. I told her that if she came here again, I would call the police.”
I stare at him, confused. “What do you mean? What kind of business is she in?”
He looks around to make sure no one could hear him. “She’s one of those ladies of the night. Seems like she likes to go into reputable businesses and find customers. Well, she’s not going to use my café for her sordid business.”
“But, she didn’t look like a…” I couldn’t even say the word.
“No, I don’t suppose she does but I know her kind. I see her hanging out on the street, trying to solicit and now she has the gall to come into my café. I told her not to show her face around here anymore or else I’ll set the police on her. I think I scared her off. I don’t think she will come here anymore.”
I thank him and finish my Latte. I get up from the table and leave. Outside, I stand on the sidewalk and look in both directions. I spot her standing at the corner. I hurry towards her. This is crazy, I think to myself. I shouldn’t get involved. But, I can’t let an opportunity to reach out to someone who needed help pass me by. She turns her head and sees me. I can see the surprise on her face.
“Hi,” I say when I reach her. “I was hoping that you hadn’t gone far.”
“Why did you come after me?” she asks.
Up close she is very beautiful. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“You’re not a cop, are you?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m a lawyer.”
“You think I need one? Did the owner press charges against me?”
“No. Why would he press charges against you?”
“Because I’m a hooker and I was on his premises. He probably thought I was trying to solicit you.”
“And were you?”
“No! I was in there like any paying customer when I saw you. I can’t help that you’re a very attractive man. I was just admiring you. I wasn’t going to solicit you or try to pick you up.”
“If he hadn’t told me what you were, I never would have guessed. You don’t look like a…”
“Prostitute? Well, during the day, I’m a regular person, doing regular things but at night I get picked up by all sorts of men.”
“Why do you do it?”
She shrugs. “I got laid off a year ago.”
“So, why can’t you try to find another job or go through a temporary agency?”
“Listen, why should I settle for another nine to five job when I can earn $120. a customer? I make more money having sex with rich, white businessmen.”
“You don’t have to do this. You can make that kind of money without selling yourself.”
She stares at me. “How?”
I think about it for a moment and then I say, “A former client recently told me that if I had any favors to ask of him, don’t hesitate. I can call him and see what he can do for you.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asks.
“I’m a Christian lawyer.”
“Oh. Wouldn’t your church have a problem with you helping me?”
“No. As Christians we are supposed to help others.”
“I used to go to church a long time ago but stopped going because the members were judgmental. I got pregnant out of wedlock when I was 17 and they treated me like I was the devil himself.”
“So, you’re a mother?” I can’t believe that as a mother she would sell herself.
She shakes her head. “I was. I lost the baby. It was a stillborn.”
“I’m sorry. What about the father?”
“He was one of the deacons. That’s why I left the church. They were a bunch of hypocrites judging me when the baby’s father was a man they all respected and treated like he was a saint.”
“I’m sorry you had a bad experience and you were judged instead of shown love and mercy but not all churches are like that.”
“I guess not but I’m not interested in going back to church. How do you think they would treat me if they knew that I was hooking?”
“Unless you told them, how would they know?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Listen, I have to run. I have to meet a client. Is there a number where I can reach you?”
“Sure. Do you have a business card and a pen?”
I fish in my breast pocket and hand her a business card and a pen. She takes them. I watch as she scribbles something at the back of the card before she hands it and the pen back to me.
I look at the card before putting it and the pen back in my pocket. “Thanks for writing your name too, Danica.”
“What’s yours?”
“Claude.”
She holds out her hand. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Claude.”
I shake it. “Likewise.”
She withdraws her hand. “Well, don’t let me keep you from your client.”
“Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“Yes, the usual.”
“How about having dinner with me tonight instead of…”
“Is this you being charitable again?”
“No. I just thought that you would prefer to spend the evening having dinner with me instead of with a complete stranger who’s only interested in you for one thing. You’re a beautiful and smart woman, Danica. You deserve much more. Stop selling yourself. It wouldn’t bring you any satisfaction or happiness.”
“Okay. You don’t have to argue your case, Counselor. You’ve talked me into having dinner with you.”
“Good. Where do you live?”
She tells me. “What time should I be expecting you?” she asks.
“I’ll be there at seven.”
“Okay, Claude. I’ll see you at seven.”
I smile and then, I walk away. I could feel her watching me. I find myself looking forward to seeing her tonight.
At promptly seven o’ clock I show up at her apartment. She looks amazing in a black dress with a V neckline and three quarter long sleeves. She’s wearing her hair up, giving her an elegant appearance. We go to one of my favorite restaurants where we enjoy a sumptuous meal and a very engaging conversation. When I take her home, I ask her to have dinner with me the following evening. By the end of the month we are seeing each other regularly. She’s no longer soliciting. My friend and former client was able to find her a well paying job at a PR firm.
I’m taking her to church where she feels warmly welcomed. What impresses her is that there’s a ministry for former drug addicts, drug dealers, alcoholics and prostitutes. She sometimes can’t believe that a church is willing to minister to such people. After her baptism and becoming a member of the church, with my encouragement and support, she has become a part of the ministry. And now she’s helping prostitutes to leave the streets and they receive counseling and job training. Many of them have joined the church.
I never imagined that I would get married again but that was before I met Danica. We got married last year and are expecting our first child in the summer. I thank God that I was in the cafe the same day she was. I went there as usual for a Latte and found love.
Notes to Women 