“Hi, bhuti. Thank you so much,” Fezi said, trying to hide the quiver in her voice. “I can do a cash transfer. Thank you so much bhuti, but now I need to go to the police station and report that I have lost my identity document.”

“I can take you there if you don’t mind,” the gentleman offered. He was so unbelievably kind even more than the Good Samaritan in the Bible.

Again, the small voice whispered into Fezi’s ear: He is too good to be true, something is cooking, watch out. But the other voice protested: Being ungrateful is a sin my sister, come on, be nice to the man.

“I am Fezi Dala,” she said eventually looking up at him because he was much taller than her.

“Happy to meet you. Are you new in this area? I mean, this is a small town so we kind of know when someone has just arrived here,” he said, taking the grocery bag from Fezi’s hand.

“Yes, I started working here two months ago, so I am still new,” she replied.

“I can help you with this. I see you are still shaken up. How much did you lose?” he asked, looking at her with such tender sympathetic eyes.

Fezi noticed that he had a few lines around his eyes, he might be in his fifties, she thought. His eyes were big and brown, very clear for his age, and they seemed to be smiling. It felt as though she was peeping through a well of love as she looked deep into his eyes. She felt guilty of all the not-so-clean-thoughts that were going through her head. She looked down.

Then when lifting her eyes up she caught a glimpse of the chest hair through the two open buttons of the man’s shirt. Even that made her shiver. For some reason she longed to run her fingers through that thick hair on his chest, but that would be so inappropriate, she thought.

“What? What did you say?” she blurted out, then suddenly felt guilty for her sharp tone and tried to sound calmer.

“No, no bhuti. I am fine. I just need to report my ID book and I promise I will pay back your money. It would be wrong for me not to pay you back.

“Oh please, don’t worry about that, I help people all the time. You don’t have to pay me back, take it as a gift. You know how good it feels when you do something good for someone? Right now I feel like I have won a million rand,” the man said, roaring with laughter and revealing his clean and neatly arranged teeth.

She liked everything about this man, this kind stranger she wished she could get to know more.

Fezi shook her head as she took a good look at the man’s face again. The man was well groomed, his black hair with sprinkles of greyish strands here and there made him look so sexy and extremely handsome. There was something about his eyes that made her feel weak at her knees to the point that she decided not to look at him again. He was indeed tall, dark and handsome.

She had read about this saying: tall, dark and handsome but she never thought that she would actually witness it. The man’s cologne was fresh, inviting and calming at the same time – not very strong or too manly, one of those scents that makes you feel the need to be embraced and held close.

“That would be wrong of me to do that,” Fezi looked away as the man came closer to her, almost too close that she took a few steps back.

“It’s not like you are pointing a gun to my face Fezi, I offered,” he said.

Fezi looked down shyly, she felt a bit stupid, actually she did not know how to react. Why would this man do this? Pay for her groceries and then tell her not to repay him? No, there must be a hidden agenda. This man had fallen for her, no doubt about that, she thought to herself.

***

Tell us: Why do you think the man helped Fezi?