by Jaye McCloud
I’m just about to pee my pants! What’s going on?! From what I was told by personnel, I was under the impression that I’m supposed to be interviewing for a low-level temp position. You know—answering phones, typing, and filing—until the real data prep clerk comes back from Family Leave. I even applied for a position as a shift worker in their call center. Nothing fancy. So why am I here?!
I come to a stop next to one of the two chairs placed in front of Mrs. Bentini’s, big fancy desk. My entire body is stiff with anxiety as I stand waiting for some sign of what to do next. Mrs. Bentini …a.k.a… The Boss Lady, is not even bothering to look up from whatever she’s reading, to give me a clue as to what to do. Sit down or remain standing? So, I stand there feeling awkward for several seconds. Until she finally looks at me and waves at me to take a seat.
Mrs. Bentini doesn’t mix words; she gets right to the point. “You will be interviewing for a position as one of my personal assistants. As I understand it, you have already completed the first-round interview with Mrs. Weaver. She and others think you are worth a second look.”
Although I only met her once, I recall Mrs. Weaver fondly. She was so cool, so laid-back. I think I would enjoy getting to know her and working with her. Oh, how I wish I were interviewing with Mrs. Weaver again! But, I’m not. So, I try to pull my shit together and give a good performance.
Mrs. Bentini goes back to silently reading the open file while stopping frequently to either give background information about what the position entails or to tell an interesting little story about her family or to ask me questions.
I’m thinking, “She can’t possibly be really considering me for her personal assistant. Although I’m a teacher, and therefore a public servant, I would be good—if not great—as a personal assistant. Nevertheless, I didn’t apply to be anyone’s personal assistant… especially not the matriarch of the Bentini family. Well damn… this shit can’t really be happening!”
“According to your résumé…”
After we discuss some information related to my résumé, Mrs. Bentini goes back to looking at the file, and then starts recalling a time when she had to plan some big B&S event with very little help. While Mrs. Bentini is talking, I glance at Ms. Carlito. She gives me a small reassuring smile with a raised eyebrow.
Yep, this shit is for real! But why? How?
“Although you don’t have the caliber of experience that I would normally insist on, I think that with my guidance, you will grow into the job quite well and hopefully quite fast. I believe in equal opportunity and doing my small part for humanity. I’ve never had an African-American personal assistant…but I believe in having a diversified staff—both here at the office as well as at Bentini Mansion. My family is constantly accusing me of being stuck in my box. Well, this will show them.” Mrs. Bentini and Ms. Carlito share a smile at some sort of inside joke.
My word….she sure said a mouth full there. I’ve never been told directly to my face that I’m getting a job because I’m black. Well, ain’t that some shit. I don’t even know if I should be offended. I really need this summer job. So, as long as she’s willing to give me a chance…and don’t expect me to be her personal fucking slave…I’m willing to give it a try.
The interview changes slightly, becoming much more personal. I continue to answer Mrs. Bentini’s questions–and she has a lot of them—as honestly and efficiently as I can. Although she comes off a little stiff, once we start having an actual conversation, she’s more animated. I loosen up, just a little, as well. Her wit is sharp and dry...similar to my cousin, Danece’s. I’m surprised to see that Mrs. Bentini can not only crack a smile, she also knows how to laugh.
“I won’t beat around the bush. I pride myself in being a good judge of character and knowing what I want when I see it. The position is yours if you want it.” Mrs. Bentini stands up from behind her desk, and Ms. Carlito and I immediately stand up as well. “If you should have any questions, please direct them to Ms. Carlito.”
Apparently, the interview has come to an end and I’m being dismissed.
“Thank you Mrs. Bentini for giving me an opportunity to assist you. If I accept the position, I will work hard and do my very best to meet your high standards and expectations.” Mrs. Bentini gives me a startled look, like I must be crazy as hell to even consider not taking a position with her. We shake hands and I follow Ms. Carlito out of Mrs. Bentini’s office.
Ms. Carlito and I cross the reception area and walk into another, slightly smaller office. This is definitely Ms. Carlito’s office, it has the decoration and little touches that shows that this is her personal space. She takes a seat behind the desk and asks me to take a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of her desk.
“Ms. Hawkins…” I interrupt to offer, “Please call me Tiressa.”
“Yes well, Tiressa, as I said earlier, I’m Mr. Bentini’s senior executive assistant. As such, one of my duties is to act as liaison between the Bentini family members working in the family business and key employees associated with Bentini & Sons. Now, before we begin, do you have any questions?”
“Well, yes. I don’t understand how I ended up interviewing for a position that I didn’t apply for. As you know, I’m a teacher. I’m only seeking temporary employment with B&S for the summer months until school reopens.”
“Yes, we are aware of your circumstances. However, your name was submitted, in fact, highly recommended, as a possible candidate for the position. Which is why, Mrs. Bentini looks on you so favorably.”
Wow. That means that Jason and Derrick really came through for me in a big way. But, this is too big. I can’t accept this position. I can’t give up my teaching career. Damn. I wonder if it will be possible for me to get a lesser position—like the one I actually applied for. Tuning back in, I hear Ms. Carlito telling me about the PA position. “The PA position is definitely full time and then some. Before you make your decision, know that the base starting salary for the position of personal assistant to Mrs. Bentini is $59,000 a year, with a guaranteed five percent increase in pay annually. You will have full healthcare coverage: medical, dental and vision, with an option for life insurance coverage as well. The position also includes a retirement package and a few company perks. After we go over more details, you’ll have the next four days to make a decision.”
***
I walk out of the elevator and into the lobby in a kind of daze. Nothing this incredible has ever happened to me. Well, that’s not exactly accurate. I remember feeling just as elated when I signed my contract with the school board. But, this is just as remarkable.
As I approach the exit side of the tinted glass doors, I hear a smooth male voice very near me, “Hey pretty lady, I hope everything went well.”
“Well hello again Officer Langston. Yes, everything went well, thanks.” We’re giving each other flirtatious smiles again. “Can I assist you to your vehicle?”
“Now, that’s mighty sweet of you Officer, but I doubt B&S pays you to assist ladies to their cars in broad daylight. Especially if there is no emergency.”
His eyes twinkle as he flashes me a wide wolfish grin. “Oh there is an emergency all right…I’m dying to get your number.”
I had to laugh at that. “I bet you spend a lot of time practicing your craft?”
Shaking my head at him, I continue through the exit doors. Officer Langston calls out to someone. “Hey Johnny, I’m taking a quickie. Cover for me.” Then he catches up to me.
Officer Langston and I engage in light-hearted banter as he escorts me to my car, all the while trying to convince me that I can save his life by giving him my phone number.
“Damn.” I mutter when we reach the sidewalk and I see that I have a ticket for being parked at an ‘out of time’ parking meter. “I thought my interview was only going to take about an hour or so. I totally forgot to come back out and feed the meter.” I remove the parking ticket from under the windshield wiper, and then open my car door.
“Let m
e take care of that for you.” Officer Langston offers. “Thanks, but no thanks. That’s very gallant of you.” Although I’m standing inside my open car door, I’m not in a rush to leave just yet. For some reason, I’m really digging this guy.
“I insist”, he says as he slides the ticket out of my hand. “Besides you’ll be doing me a favor.”
“Oh yeah, and what favor would that be?” I challenge coyly.
“You’ll be giving me an opportunity to be your black knight in shining armor.”
Arching both my eyebrows at him, I say teasingly, “No you didn’t just say that.”
He shrugs his wide shoulders and claim, “It’s true, I can’t resist a beautiful damsel in distress.”
“Well, Officer Allen Langston, better be careful that you don’t go broke playing black knight to every damsels in distress…pretty or otherwise.” I advise in my seldom-used sultry voice.
Whoa, I’ve used my flirty charms twice in one day. I must be feeling damn good.
On the drive home, I keep thinking about the extraordinary day it has been. Not only do I have a job offer that will pay me 20K more than I make as a schoolteacher, but I just may…just may, have myself a new romance. And this time, hopefully, it will be different. I’m cheesing as I look over at fine-ass Officer Langston’s phone number neatly penned on the piece of paper sticking out of my purse.
***
For the next two days, I alternate between congratulating myself and thinking that a mistake has been made—almost certain Mrs. Bentini will cancel the job offer.
I agonize over the decision I have to make: resign my position and give up my teaching career to work as some rich woman’s personal servant. Or stay in the career I went to college for and have invested so much passion, time and energy into–even if I’m miserable.
At first, I don’t tell any of my friends or colleagues or even any of my family members about the job offer. I just want to be alone with my thoughts. This will be one of those crucial decisions that can potentially change the course of my life.
On day three, I finally break down and decide that I would like to have input from other people. So, I arrange for a night out with my girlfriends. After a little negotiating and compromising, we all agree to meet up at Al’s. By the time I arrive, Carmen, Janette, Rachael, my cousin Danece, and my older sister Mya, are already there and apparently waiting impatiently for me to show up. I say my hellos and ask if they have placed their orders yet.
“Yeah, your late.” Says Janette from across the table from me.
“Don’t worry sis, I’ve got you covered, I took the liberty of ordering for you.”
“What did you get me?” I ask holding my breath. I’ll eat whatever it is, I just hope I like it. My big sister is a health nut and we don’t always have the same culinary desires.
“Don’t make that face; you’re going to like it. I ordered you the Seasonal Berry & Spinach Salad with Sweet Tea, no sugar.”
Oh crap! Well, I guess that’s my consequence for being late.
Looking at my disappointed face, Mya and the others burst out laughing. “Sike! I got you an Appetizer Sampler. The one with the honey barbeque chicken, mozzarella sticks, and cheese quesadilla. And I ordered you a Long Island Iced Tea.”
“That’s what I’m talkin bout, cause ain’t nobody tryin to live off rabbit food like you Mya.” Janette throws in with her boisterous cowgirl hoot.
I can laugh too, now that I know Mya was tricking me. “Thanks, that’s perfect. You know what I like.”
“We’re all going to be spending extra time in the gym working off all the calories we’re about to gobble down.” My cousin Danece predicts.
“Yeah, but our girl needs us, and we think better when we’re fully loaded.” That comment, coming from Carmen, gets a chorus of agreements and grumbles because everybody at the table is watching her weight and at least trying to make healthier food choices–with the exception of my naturally thin sister Mya and my equally naturally thin friend Rachael.
“So Ti, what’s going on? What are we here to discuss and how can we help you?” The ever matter-of-fact Rachael asks.
“Well, like I said on the phone, I need your opinions about something…”
I notice the waiter approaching our table and wait for him to set our meals and drinks in the right places before continuing. Before I can get the first word out, Carmen asks, “Does it have anything to do with the application you put in at B&S? Did Jason get you a job?!” When she asked that last question, she was damn-near bouncing up and down in her seat.
“Okay yall, no interrupting Ti with questions yet, give her a chance to tell us or we’ll be here all damn day and still won’t know anything by the time we leave.”
I love my cousin, Danece. She has a way of getting things and people in order.
“Thanks Danece, and yes, Carmen, it does involve B&S. Well, here goes… I was offered a full-time position at Bentini and Sons as Mrs. Bentini’s number two, personal assistant. Before you ask again Carmen…I don’t know if I got the position because of Jason or Derrick or both. I was told that I was highly endorsed for the position. So, I guess that means that they had something to do with it. Anyway, I was given four days to decide if I want to give up my teaching career to be the personal employee of a rich lady. By the way, I have until this Friday to give them my final decision.”
“But Tiressa, this sounds like a serious full-time job. I thought you only wanted something for the summer?” Although Rachael asked the question, when I look around the table, I see that all my friends have the same concerned look on their faces.
“I know. But, now that I have this opportunity, I have to decide if I’m going to take it or let it pass me by. Okay, so tell me what yall think.”
Between one breath and the next, questions, comments and opinions come at me fast and from every direction…
“That’s tomorrow!”
“Are you serious about not teaching anymore?”
“I wouldn’t do it if I were you.”
“I thought teaching was your childhood dream?”
“What if you don’t like working for her?”
“I don’t know, it could be a golden opportunity.”
“You have been pretty miserable for the past couple of years.”
“You’re really going to give up a steady income for something that might not work out?”
I raise my hands indicating that I want to get in on the conversation. “You guys aren’t saying anything I haven’t been saying to myself for the past three days. Would it matter if I told you that the salary is damn-near $60,000 a year, with a five percent guaranteed annual pay increase? 20K more than I make as a teacher? And they’re providing pretty much the same medical and retirement package as the school board.”
The girls are stunned—only for a second. Then Janette blasts out with, “Does it matter?! Hell yeah, 60K makes a big damn difference! Girl, you better jump on that!”
My friends know that I have always wanted to be a teacher—since I was in the second grade. However, I have become increasingly disillusioned, frustrated and disgusted by all the politics and shady business that’s interwoven in the fabric of the educational system. We spend the next three hours at Al’s, hashing out the pros and cons.
Chapter 4
Well, for good or bad, I have made my decision. I’m The Boss Lady’s junior personal assistant.
The senior PA, Katherine Walters, is on vacation and will help me learn the ropes when she returns in a few days. In the meantime, I’ve been directed to familiarize myself with the B&S building, key staff, general office protocols and procedures.
During the week that followed, I reported to personnel, got my picture taken for my ID badge, filled out paperwork, attended a three-day training, and did a little shopping to spruce up my wardrobe. Although I can look damn sharp or sexy it up
when I want to, I’m more comfortable not standing out. I like the classier ‘old fashion’ style of dressing.
You know, boobs tucked safely away and skirts down to my ankle. Well, at least below my knees. My grandmother helped raise me and she instilled in me the importance of always appearing to be a lady. Especially in public. She loved saying, “If you dress like a whore, then you can’t blame folks for thinking you have whore tendencies.” Thanks grandma.
***
Mrs. Weaver instructed me to report to Ms. Carlito as soon as I arrive at Bentini and Sons the following Monday morning; which I gladly do. Sitting in a comfortable chair in front of Ms. Carlito’s desk, I take notes while she goes over my itinerary for the next three days—until Mrs. Bentini’s senior PA, Katherine Walters returns. As she’s talking, I’m wondering why I’m meeting with Ms. Carlito instead of with Mrs. Bentini…so I ask.
“Ms. Carlito. I’m wondering why I’m meeting with you here and not with Mrs. Bentini.”
Ms. Carlito cracks a tiny smile and explains. “Mrs. Bentini is a wonderful woman, really she is. Unfortunately, she doesn’t deal well with newbies—has absolutely no patience for them. She would rather you take the time to learn how things are done—here at the office, as well as, at the mansion—before you start meeting with her.” With an even bigger smile she adds, “So that you won’t have so much of that lost, overwhelmed look…like the one you’re wearing now.” Then she becomes very serious once again. “For instance, you’ll need to know the process and procedure for entering the Bentini estate. You can’t just drive onto the estate, you have to have clearance. We’ll cover more on that, later. There’s also protocol for how to interact with staff and family members while you’re at the mansion. Mrs. Bentini insists that certain things are done certain ways—her way. And her number one rule is that employees are not to become overly familiar with family members. It’s important that you keep a professional demeanor at all times—with family members, guest, and the estate staff. When you’re here at the office, you represent Mrs. Bentini. You will sit in whichever meetings she directs you to, for whatever reason. Sometimes, you will just take notes on a meeting. At other times, you will be required to present information or give input. However, you will never attempt to speak for Mrs. Bentini personally or presume that you know anything. Everything is cleared through Mrs. Bentini, first and foremost. She tells you what information she wants you to relay, and no matter how much anyone presses you—and they will—you’ll always respond, “I Do Not Know Anything More’. You will do well to familiarize yourself with those six words…because you’ll be saying them a lot.”
