A Rich Man's Baby by Daaimah S. Poole Page A

lifestyle. “How much you pay for that?” is her favorite question. She is a know-it-all who really didn’t know anything. She wanted to know how much your house cost and how much you put down on it, how many square feet. She was just a prying, materialistic, negative person. But something attracted Darren to her. And he was her ticket out of her blue-collar existence. All evening I caught her staring at my engagement ring. I knew before the night was over she would ask me how much it cost.
    In the bathroom, Jasmine finally had her opportunity to ask the burning question she wanted to ask all evening.
    â€œWhat’s your secret?” she asked.
    â€œWhat secret?”
    â€œYou know, how did you get Terrance to propose to you?”
    â€œI didn’t have to do anything,” I said, offended.
    â€œLet me see your ring,” she said as she reached for my hand. After she evaluated it for a few moments, she said it was nice and Terrance probably spent five thousand for it. “So he just asked you to marry him without an ultimatum or you threatening to leave him?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDamn, he is a good man. Do you know what I had to do to get Darren to speed up the process?”
    I didn’t really want to know, but she told me anyway.
    I couldn’t take any more of Jasmine. I announced to them that we had to go home because I had to get home and prepare for my first day of work.
    I wanted to get to work early on my first day. I showered and curled every piece of my hair perfectly into place. First impressions are important, and I wanted to make a great one.
    Before I walked out the door, I looked at myself in the mirror once more. I looked great, like a seasoned attorney. I was carrying my briefcase and wearing my navy suit. My stilettos click-clacked as I strutted into the public defender’s offices. There were people waiting in line and phones ringing, and it wasn’t even eight-thirty. I walked up to the front desk, introduced myself, and was told that I was early and to go and have a seat.
    A few minutes later, a man walked in and introduced himself. His name was Joseph. His face read that he worked too much and was stressed. His nails were bitten down to the corners of his pink fingertips, and he had permanent bags under his dark-circled eyes. I said hello and reached out to shake his hand. He told me he was waiting on two other new hires.
    After the other two new hires, James and Martina, came in, we introduced ourselves and Joseph showed us around the office.
    â€œOkay, you all will report to me with any questions or concerns. This week you’ll be shadowing Alyssa. She will be joining us shortly. Unfortunately, we are understaffed and have a very heavy caseload. After this week, you’ll be on your own.”
    He showed us to our office. It was small with three desks in it. There was a desk on the left of the room and one to the right. The other desk was directly in front of the window.
    â€œWe don’t get our own offices?” I asked.
    â€œNo, you will all share this office. This will serve more or less as a home base. You guys will be in court most of the day.”
    I didn’t know I would be sharing an office; that really sucked. A Hispanic woman dressed in a black suit with a white shirt came in and introduced herself as Alyssa Hernandez. She had very straight, pressed black hair and light brown eyes. Her look was more model than attorney.
    Alyssa took us across the street to courtroom 11-B. We went in and had a seat in the back of the courtroom. The jury was coming back in and taking their seats. The jurors were a mixture of young and old, and white and black. Alyssa was defending a twenty-year-old woman named Jamia Gilbert who was charged with distribution and intent to sell narcotics. She was facing up to five years. The D.A. brought charges up on her because her boyfriend made bail and was on the run. She looked innocent; she didn’t