Five Steps Ahead

ONE

Many people believe there are five stages of falling in love. If you do not encounter each step, you indeed can not say that you've fallen in love. At least, that's what I used to believe. My love story didn't begin that way. If you ask any of my friends how my—relationship happened, they'd say it was the result of a miracle. If you ask any of my friends how the—connection conquered, they'd say it was good luck.

Usually, I'd be one to disagree with them regarding their outlook on my relationships. But this time, I'd hesitate to question their legitimacy. My love story is quite different from the average love story. The beginning of my story is as simple as it gets. When I graduated high school in 2014, I went to Hallow State University to study criminology. My education landed me in the best internships for connections. I gained knowledge of criminal justice, criminal law, research methods, U.S. court systems, and victimology. Now, you're reading about the life of the best attorney to walk the grounds of Peoria, Illinois. I'm sure you've never heard of it. Here's a fun fact about the town of Peoria: Peoria has one of the highest crime rates in the country when compared to all communities of all sizes, from tiny villages to significant metropolises.

With that in mind, I decided to make it a professional goal to keep criminals off the streets and in prisons. On March 28th, 2019, I received a request to unfold a case concerning a freakishly large amount of money being exchanged. Everyone knows the Feds love to get into rich people's business.

The very next day, as I walked through the streets of downtown Peoria alongside Brittany (Peoria's chief police officer and my best friend), I noticed an African-American man exchanging money with a Caucasian male who wore an all-black shirt with bold white letters that read "Support The Movement." I know what you're thinking: "Can't he just help a brother out?" And you're right! I hated jumping to conclusions, but what if this was the right time to jump? Yes, I was just a lawyer, but I needed to play detective and get facts to clear quandaries concerning my case.

"Meet me at the bakery in ten minutes. I need to do something that may help solve my case," I uttered to Brittany.

"Why don't I just come with you? I am a police officer; I'd know exactly what's going on in a situation when I see one. I could help, Amia." She smiled.

   Brittany was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and she always had good intentions. But in the eyes of a black man, she was just another white officer. I'd have better chances approaching the scenery and coming upon what was happening than she would. I wouldn't be 'Amia Latin, the lawyer.' I'd behave as 'Mia, a typical nosy melanin sister.'

"That's okay, Brit. I really should handle this one alone... for self-improvement purposes," I convinced.

"Alright, but if you're not at the bakery shop in ten minutes, I'm leaving you here downtown wearing your 4-inch heels." Brittany joked.

We departed ways, and I approached the gentlemen with folded hands, a warm smile, and my brown hair wrapped around the back of one side of my ear. You always come off gentle when you want/need answers.

"Good evening, gentlemen," I started.

They both looked at me with repulsive eyes as if my politeness had disgusted them. I guess the intelligence in my voice had not corresponded with my disguise.

"What y'all doing?" I relaxed my arms and spoke informally to appear less perky and professional.

"Handling business," The white male scoffed and continued to converse about the money.

I knew his immediate answer was fair enough to my question, but he was still foolish to indirectly answer me through the words of his conversation.

"I know eight hundred won't do. I'll give you the other two hundred at the spot. I'm meeting my girl there, and she has the rest." The young male left unannounced.

The African-American male then turned to me with demanding eyes and stated, "You shouldn't be out on the streets of downtown Peoria looking this pretty at eight at night. Especially not in somebody's business."

"Business? Do you mean figuratively or literally? You have quite the face of a successful business owner." I bugged.

"Is that what you think of all black men you meet?" He paused. "Besides, you and I have two different perceptions of business, sweetheart." He shook his head with disinterest and began to walk away.

"WellMaybeYouCan-" I spoke swiftly, causing him to pause in between his steps. I cleared my voice and began speaking typically. "Maybe you can give me an insight into your perception of a business. I'm all about educating the mind."

He taunted, "Little miss black woman tryna get the works. This is a boss you're talking to, and I'll only discuss business with aspiring employees."

I stood bewildered. "Big boss black man or an assistant to a clerk?" I joked.

"Oh, I see," He chuckled. "Very well. The best place to discuss my industry is in small business buildings. Here's a card with an address attached to it. I'll meet you there at this time tomorrow. It's better to wear the color black. You ought to support the movement." He passed me the card and immediately dismissed himself.