I was ready for a big change. For fifteen years I had worked hard to build up my dental practice, only to have my marriage break up and most of my savings lost in a malpractice law suit. I did not relish starting over and spending all my time working to pay insurance and alimony. Fortunately, we had no children, so I was free of that responsibility.
Several of my dental patients had declined my prices in favor of going to Central America to have first rate work done at one third of the cost. This told me that the cost of living and doing business in Central America had to be a lot cheaper. If I went there I could live better on less, and my lower earnings would mean that my greedy ex-wife would get less alimony, another benefit.
Some research on the internet revealed that I could join a network of Central American dentists who marketed their services to potential customers in the U.S. and Europe. With my credentials, all I would have to do is set up an office, and the customers would be routed to me. It was an easy decision. I packed up the tools of my trade and my few personal belongings and headed south.
It was like entering paradise. The weather was perfect, the people friendly, and the price of most things was one third of what I was used to. With my share of the money from the sale of our house in the U.S., I was able to buy a car and a nice house, complete with swimming pool and servants' quarters. The fact that I did not speak fluent Spanish was a bit of a problem, but I knew quite a bit, and was confident I could get by until I learned more.
And then there were the women. The Latin beauties were every where, all dressed in skin tight pants and closely fitted tops. Their revealing clothes and their dark hair and eyes, set off by their smooth, coffee-colored skin, made them incredibly desirable. When you looked at them, they looked back at you, as if they were absorbing your admiration. You sensed that you were in a different culture where young women dressed and acted to please men. I looked forward to interviewing many of them in the process of choosing a dental assistant.
A few days after I moved into my new house, I heard from an English-speaking neighbor that there was a young woman looking for a job as a domestic. She was being fired from a similar job, probably, my neighbor theorized, because the husband was spending too much time watching her work. This woman was in the country illegally, working and sending money home to her sick mother in another, not so prosperous, Central American country. These illegals, as they were called, could be arrested and deported on the spot. It was critical for them to have jobs where they would not be noticed.
I was immediately interested. Having a single woman live in my servants' quarters and take care of the cooking and household chores was very appealing, especially she were attractive and anxious to please. I wanted a woman around to meet my needs, including possibly my sexual needs, but not on the so-called equal footing basis that had caused so much trouble in my marriage.
I got directions to the house where she was employed and went looking for her. Just as I pulled up in front of the house, I saw a young woman in the driveway filling a taxi with bags and suitcases. A stern-faced older woman was observing the process from the front porch. When the young woman turned toward me, I saw that she was upset. I also saw that she was very attractive.
It was an awkward situation. I wanted to meet this woman and talk with her about working for me, but she was about to drive off in a taxi, and I could not just walk up to her under the gaze of the old shrew. Acting like I was at the wrong house, I slowly drove away, looking at the houses I passed as if I were searching for the right one. In reality I was waiting to see where the taxi went so that I could follow it.
The taxi finally backed out, and fortunately it headed in my direction. I let it pass me, and then followed. In five minutes we were in the center of the town. The taxi stopped in front of the bus station, and the woman got out. I parked a half a block away and walked up to her just as she was finishing unloading all her bags and suitcases. She had obviously underpaid the driver, because he was cursing as he drove away.
She was very distraught, but in spite of her red eyes and haggard appearance, she was a very pretty young woman. I guessed she was in her mid twenties, slender and not very tall, with long dark hair, and a light complexion. Her clothes were tight and revealed a figure that made my heart beat faster.
"Hello," I said, drawing on my limited Spanish vocabulary. "I do not speak Spanish very well, but I would like to talk with you. My friend told me you are looking for a job, and I need a 'domestica'."
"Yes sir," she said, smiling slightly. "I need a job and would like to talk with you."
I appreciated the fact that she spoke Spanish slowly, and used simple words. She was apparently smart enough to know that communication was a big problem for gringo employers. There were several unoccupied benches in front of the bus station, and I pointed to one.
"Let's sit down there. We can bring your bags."
Together we moved her two suitcases and three plastic bags over to the bench. We sat and turned toward each other.
"My name is John," I said.
"My name is Tina," she replied. She was tense, but she met my eyes without shyness.
I decided to take the lead and tell her a little about myself and the job. It was slow going with many pauses as I tried to remember Spanish words.
"I am a dentist. It has been three weeks since I arrived here from the United States. I bought a house two kilometers from here. The house has a separate apartment for a domestica. I am not married. I live alone."
She listened carefully to my strange accent, and nodded that she understood. I waited until she began to tell me about herself.
"I am from a poor country. It has been four months since I arrived here. I came without papers. My mother is home alone with my young sisters, and I send her money. I worked hard for those people, but they did not like me."
"Why did they not like you?"
"I do not know. The husband I think liked me, but the woman, no."
"What kind of work did you do for them?"
"I cleaned. I worked in the garden. Sometimes I cooked."
"That is the kind of work I have also. How much did they pay you?"
"Fifty dollars a week. I lived in a cabaña for free, but I had to buy my own food."
I really liked this girl. She was smart, straight forward, and sexy as hell. I decided to go for broke.
"If you come work for me and do what I ask, I will pay you seventy five dollars a week, and you will not have to buy food," I said. "Are you interested?"
