by Jaye McCloud
We enter the east wing of Bentini Mansion. This is a part of the mansion that I have never been in before—probably because it’s the private residence of Robert and Angela. It’s more like a house inside of a much larger house—even so, everything is so spacious. They have their own entry, living area, play area for the children, library, home offices, parlors, kitchen, dining room, and staff-only on a smaller scale. Entering the kids’ study area, my teacher instincts kick in, and the first thing I notice is how well this room is arranged. It’s set up with the primary focus on being a learning environment. There are minimal distractions, yet at the same time, it’s kid friendly and comfortable. As I’m looking around the room, Angela Bentini takes a small walkie-talkie out of her pocket and speaks into it. “Hannah, please bring Dominic to the study room. Oh, and make sure that Gigi and Patrick are kept busy, I don’t want them to disturb us.”
“Yes, Mrs. Bentini. That won’t be a problem. Patrick is with Mr. Bentini, and Gigi is with Miss Gabby.” Hannah’s voice replies, coming through the walkie-talkie with clear amusement. It doesn’t even take Hannah three minutes to have Dominic in the study room. “Thank you Hannah.” Angela smiles as she kindly dismisses the nanny.
“Hi Dominic.” I really like Dominic. I’ve seen him romping around in the back yard enough to know that he’s boisterous, active, and athletic. I’ve spent enough time around him to know that he loves sweets, likes to destroy things and thinks his little sister, Gigi, is to be avoided at all costs. “Hi Ti.” He beams at me. He’s blonde like his mother, but with the same gray eyes as his Uncle Antonio.
“Dom! You know you are to address Tiressa properly…as Ms. Hawkins.
“But mom, she said I can call her Tiressa or Ti. I like Ti best.” He complains, in his ten-year-old defensive voice.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Bentini, I did give the children permission to call me Ti, when we are alone.”
“See mom, she wants me to call her Ti…can I mom, please?” He charmingly cajoles. It’s funny how he reminds me of Derrick when he does that. I bet he’ll be just as irresistible when he’s older. Looking between the two of us, his mom gives in gracefully. “Okay, okay…I guess it’s only right since I insist that you call me Angela.” She says to me. “Now that we have that settled. Dom, do you know that Tiressa used to be a middle school teacher?”
“Yes, Uncle Jason said that he met Ti at the school she used to work at with cousin Rachael.” Angela Bentini and I exchange quick glances. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I’m wondering why Jason Bentini is discussing me with or around his young nephew. And who else was involved in the conversation, and what else was said? Shoving those disconcerting thoughts away, I focus on what Mrs. Bentini is saying.
“Yes, well…I asked Tiressa if she wouldn’t mind helping you with some of your math work.” Not wanting her to force the issue, I hurry to jump in. “How do you feel about that Dominic…would you mind working with me?” I ask in a hopeful voice, giving him the impression that it’s completely his choice to work with me or not. “Yeah, sure, I’ll work with you Ti.” He’s not on his tiptoes with excitement, but at least he didn’t reject my offer. I motion towards the door with my eyes. Thankfully, Mrs. Bentini gets the message that it’s best for Dom and I to work without her hovering. She makes up some excuse and leaves.
For the next hour or so, I work with Dominic while covertly observing him. It’s easy to see that he responds well to direct instruction, but becomes confused when given too many multi-step directions. The confusion then turns into frustration when he doesn’t get an answer correct. After our time is up and Dominic leaves the study room-with a pleased smile-I speak with his mother about what I think will help him. I’m in full teacher-mode and loving it. I suggest some useful academically based websites, graphic organizers, as well as, other learning strategies and curriculum resources. I also advise her to install an interactive Smart Board in the study room. Smart Boards are a technological Godsend to teachers everywhere. Most importantly, I give her the name of one of my teacher-friends who is a dynamo when it comes to teaching math to struggling students. “Her name’s Belinda Raymond and she’s head of the math department at my former school. I can give her a call and set up a consultation meeting. I promise you, Mrs. Bentini, you won’t regret giving her a chance. She’s absolutely one of the best.”
Smiling, she gives me a gentle reminder. “I really wish you would call me Angela. I know about Mrs. Bentini’s rules. However, I make my own decisions.” Although I know that that’s not always true, I appreciate her willingness to go against her mother-in-laws wishes in this instance.
“I’ll make the same agreement with you as I did with the others. I don’t want Mrs. Bentini upset with me, so when in her presence, I’ll use your title. How’s that for a compromise?” I offer the suggestion instead of totally disagreeing with her. This is a win-win compromise, without jeopardizing my job.
“Sounds great. Now, about the other teacher…I don’t know Tiressa. I was hoping you would be able to tutor Dom. You saw him when he left out of here, he was so pleased with himself. He couldn’t stop talking about how you made finding the answers easier.”
“He has the ability to learn the curriculum, he just needs a little help.” I have a huge smile on my face, so glad that I could help. And really, what teacher doesn’t like hearing that she makes a difference. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Bentini…I mean…An…Angela. I hate disappointing you or Dominic…as you know, working with Mrs. Bentini is a full-time job and then some. I wouldn’t be able to give Dominic the attention he needs. But, Belinda Raymond will.” When she still looks uncertain, I throw in a small compromise. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll continue to work with Dominic until you meet with Belinda and decide if she’ll be a good fit.”
Fortunately, she’s willing to be reasonable. “Okay, I guess that’s more than fair. Thanks Tiressa.” She says, as she gives me a hard hug. Wow, another first.
Hearing a child’s voice well before we see her, I glance over at Angela and notice that she has one of those smiles that all loving mothers seem to have when they hear their happy, healthy, energetic offspring. “That sounds like my Gigi with her Uncle Antonio. Excuse me for a minute Tiressa.” Angela says as she steps out into the hall. As usual, my heart race at the mere mention of Antonio Bentini’s name.
A couple of minutes later, instead of Angela returning to the room, Antonio Bentini saunters in with Gigi on his shoulders. He’s changed out of the tennis outfit he had on earlier, and is now wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and lumber jack style shirt. As tall as he is and with his build, he could easily pass for Paul Bunyan—all he’s missing is a giant ax and Babe the Blue Ox. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he lowers Gigi to the floor.
“Ti! Ti! Ti! Are you here to play with me?” Little Gigi screams with excitement as she runs to me. Smiling, I bend low to scoop her into my arms, and hug her close. Umm, she smells like sugar and spice and everything nice. You never did meet a more loving child. I’ve had plenty of opportunity to interact with the kids whenever they are with their aunt or grandmother, and although all the kids are usually wonderfully polite and well-mannered, little Gigi has an abundance of affection, and freely shares it with just about everyone.
“Hey, if hugs are being handed out, I want one too.” Antonio Bentini playfully demands, smiling into my eyes, as he steps closer. Very close. “Ms. Hawkins. I’m glad to see that you’re still here at the house…you left the patio so suddenly.”
“Yes, we had plans.” I lie.
“Well you’re still here.”
“Mrs. Bentini asked me to stay.”
“And if I had asked you to stay?” Apparently, he’s in a teasing mood. I decide to do the impossible and try to ignore him. Uncomfortable by his closeness and in fact, by his very presence, I focus my attention on the adorable little girl in my arms. “I would love to play with you, but where is the play room?” Gigi giggles irresistibly like I just asked her the silliest q
uestion. “Weeell…” She says twisting her hair. “…we have the small playroom down the hall…it’s big but it’s the little playroom because we have a biiig playroom downstairs close to Nana…it’s the biiig playroom because it’s big and it has a lotta lotta toys!” Like most children, Gigi is a little chatter-box when she gets going. So, I patiently wait for her to take a breath and jump in with my next question which is sure to get us back on track. “And what room are we in now?” I ask as I place her feet back on the colorful carpet. “The study room!” She exclaims as she twirls with pride that she knows the answer. “Right you are. So, what do we do in the study room?”
“We do our homework and we color and we count numbers and we learn ABC…I know my shapes”, she says clapping her little hands excitedly as if she just earned a sticker for getting the answer right again. “Oh my goodness little Gigi, you are so smart. Can you tell me where you sit during your study time?”
“Sure.” She screeches and dashes to her area. “This is where I sit and do my homework.” Then she dashes over to another area of the room. “And this is where Patrick sits when he does his homework.” Then she happily dashes over to yet another area of the room. “And this is where my other brother Dom sits when he does his homework. I wanted to use his markers…he wouldn’t share. He says I can’t touch his stuff.”
Antonio Bentini and I share indulgent smiles at the pint size bundle of energy skipping over to the big alphabet blocks. Abruptly his smile fades as his eyes sweep up and down my body causing me to blush from head to toe. “You have your hair pinned up even on the weekends?” He’s looking at my hair as if he wants to take it down and run his fingers through it. I can feel my silly scalp tingling as if it wants to be caressed by his strong cable fingers. My eyes drop from his to watch his perfectly sculptured lips move. “Not that your hair doesn’t look nice, because it does…it’s beautiful. As a matter of fact, you look beautiful.”
I’m trying to keep from looking owl-eyed, but I couldn’t be more shocked if one of the chairs got up and walked out of the room! Not sure how to respond, I stammer out a whispered, “Um, thank you, Mr. Bentini.” I hate feeling like a twit and that’s how he makes me feel when he says things that catch me off guard and have me stuttering like a nervous teenager.
Gigi skips back over to us taking hold of one of my hands and one of Antonio Bentini’s hands. She playfully swings our joined hands as she’s talking. “I want to show you my homework Ti. Will you wait for me to get it off the refrigerator?” The way she mangles the word refrigerator, as she tries to pronounce it, is so adorable.
“Of course I will. I promise not to move from this spot.” I assure the little girl as she releases both of our hands and runs out the door in search of her homework, only to dash right back inside. “Don’t you go anywhere either Uncle Tony.”
“I promise to be right here, Tadpole.” Gigi leaves a trail of sweet giggles as she races down the hall. Antonio Bentini steps even closer. Oh my gawd, he smells so good! I’ve never known a man that smelled this damn sensual. The scent is perfectly made for him. Very masculine and subtly dominating. My body is actually becoming heated. I’ve got to put some space between us, so I take a casual back.
“She calls you Ti. I noticed that my nephews also refer to you as Ti when they think no one is listening, or they slip when they’re in a very involved conversation.” Trying not to be so obvious, I take a couple more steps away from him. “Yes. I hope you don’t mind. I gave them permission to use my first name, but only when we’re alone. It’s supposed to be our little secret.” The corners of my lips lift in an uneasy half smile as I divert my eyes from his—glancing around the room.
Closing the distance between us again, he assures me, “No, of course I don’t mind.” Then suggests, “In fact, I think you should call me by my first name, which as you know, is Antonio…” He says it with a sexy manly smile before continuing. “…and I should call you by yours, Tiressa.”
My name sounds seductive, coming from those lips. I think he’s mesmerizing me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bentini. I don’t think that would be appropriate. Mrs. Bentini wouldn’t approve.” Somehow, he has managed to walk me up against the table. There’s nowhere for me to move with him standing right in front of me, blocking me.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, we can start off slowly, with me calling you Tiressa and you calling me Antonio…then eventually progress to Ti and Tony. I like the sound of that, don’t you?” He’s standing so close that his breath is caressing my face. And damn, it smells great too.
The closer he is to me the more I have to crane my neck to look into his hypnotic gray eyes. But I really don’t mind because I rather enjoy looking at him…I just don’t want him to know it. I finally get around to answering his provocative question. “It doesn’t matter if I like the sound of it or not, you know why it’s inappropriate for us to address each other in such a casual manner.”
Going on as if I hadn’t just answered him, he continues. “If you prefer, we can continue to be more formal in public and more personal when we are private. Or, at least out of Mom’s presence. I assure you, no one else would care.”
“I think you’re wrong about that Mr. Bentini. I can’t see your brothers taking something like that lightly.” I say, thinking about his older brothers’ stern expressions.
“What I do is none of my brothers’ business—” Seeing me shake my head no, he continues. “Why are you being so resistant to me? I know that you call Jason and Adam by their first name, and they call you by yours. Jason also use your nickname. I’ve even heard you call Gabby by her name…in Mom’s presence and she doesn’t bat an eye. Why not extend that courtesy to me?”
“Mr. Bentini—” I pause when he audibly exhales a deep frustrated breath. “Mr. Bentini, it’s not the same. Gabby, Kathy and I are about the same age…and we’re girls. Adam and Jason are a lot less—” I stop suddenly catching myself.
“Go on…a lot less what?” His tone is almost daring me to say it. “Well, if I can speak candidly?” I ask, watching his chest rise and fall. “By all means, please speak candidly.” He steps even closer to me, reaching out and gently wrapping his strong fingers around my bare upper arms.
The feel of him touching me like this makes me breathless. I have to give myself a mental kick to keep from melting at his feet. He must not know the effect he has on me. Shrugging my shoulders, I try to step out of his grasp, but he tightens his hold and is giving me a silent command to stay put. Meeting his penetrating stare, I say it. “Jason and Adam are a lot less intimidating than you and your other brothers. They’re not stand-offish…they’re sociable. They are also about my age and we have a lot in common. Even your youngest siblings, Christopher and Sophie are open and friendly. They make it easy for me to be myself. I’m not saying that we’d ever be friends, but I feel more relaxed when I’m around them.”
Although his jaw clenches a few times and he increases the pressure of his hold, his voice continues to be calm and smooth. “So, what you’re saying, Ms. Hawkins, is that we need to spend time getting to know each other better, so that you will feel more comfortable using my given name…as you do with my more fun-loving younger siblings.”
Now, he’s just being sardonic. There’s nothing like seeing a grown man pout when he can’t get his way. I move, as if to remind him that he’s restraining me. He immediately, loosens his grasp and begins gently rubbing his big hands slowly up and down my arms. “I’m sorry, Tiressa, I wasn’t aware that I was holding you so tightly.”
Trying to control the breathlessness in my voice, I reply. “No harm done Mr. Bentini. However, I have to tell you, that holding me at all, is highly inappropriate. Is this your way of trying to make me use your first name?”
“Of course not, Ms. Hawkins. I simply like holding you… touching you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he bends his head towards mine.
Oh shit! What the hell is he doing?!
Pushing against his chest, I admonis
h him in a shaky voice, “Mr. Bentini, what are you doing?!”
Straightening to his full height, he steps back a little. “I apologize. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” But he refuses to step back any further.
Not wanting him to know that that’s exactly how he’s making me feel, I try to bluff. “You didn’t. I’m not afraid—”
“Then why are you trembling.” He asks in a husky tone.
He’s right, I’m shaking like a leaf. There’s no point in trying to lie about it so I do my best to meet him stare for stare.
That lasts for all of less than a minute. Instead of him showing amusement or satisfaction, he continues where he left off, as if these last few minutes had not occurred. “Where were we? Oh yes, you were saying how warm and fuzzy my sibling are, and that you and I need to spend more time getting to know one another so that you can feel warm and fuzzy about me too—at least enough so that you are able to address me by my first name.”
“No, Mr. Bentini, that’s not what I’m saying. I just d—” Before I can argue with him further, little Gigi returns. Thank gawd!
“Here it is Ti…here’s my homework, see!” Antonio finally steps farther back, giving me space to breathe, as Gigi moves to stand in front of me. She hands me her assignment, takes my hand and we walk over to her study area. Sitting down in one of the chairs, I bring her up on my knees. Smiling and arranging the handwriting worksheet commonly used with Kindergarten students, she and I both look at her hard work carefully. I spend time exclaiming over her wonderful effort and telling her what an awesome job she’s doing learning to write her name…her whole name.