by Jaye McCloud
Chapter 5
Officer Allen Langston called. I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since Derrick’s show of rudeness. At first, our conversation is a bit stilted, as if he’s still upset about the incident with Derrick at the elevators. “I’m glad you called Allen.”
“Yeah, me too.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Allen, I’m sorry about Derrick. He was rude and his behavior is inexcusable.”
“Yeah, well, I think your friend is an asshole for a couple of reasons.” Before I can ask him what he’s talking about, he tells me that he's being sent out of state on special assignment.
“What kind of special assignment?”
“Me and another co-worker have to go to the Atlanta office to give a training for their security personnel.”
“Oh, sounds interesting. How long will you be gone?”
“I’m not exactly sure. But I am sure that asshole Matthews is behind this.”
“What? You can’t be serious, Allen. Why would he…”
“Tiressa, the man wants you. And he wants me out of the way.”
“I don’t think so Allen. Aren’t you a supervisor or department head?” Yes, I checked him out. “Wouldn’t it make sense that if they need someone to give a presentation or to facilitate a training related to security, they would want to send someone they know is well qualified?”
“Tiressa, that all sounds well and practical, but I’m not the only one in the security department qualified to go facilitate a training session. Hell, I’m not even the most qualified. No. I know Matthews is behind this ‘out-of-the-blue very necessary trip’. Men like that will do anything to get what they want. He pulled strings and arranged this. He wants the field clear so that he can have complete access to you.”
Wanting to put my cards on the table I admit, “Look Allen, I think you should know that Derrick and I dated for a very, very short period of time, before I started working at B&S.”
The line went quiet for a long few seconds. “So, you date white men?” Allen’s tone is a little too harsh with incredulity.
This is not the first time someone has asked me that question, in that way. “Yes, Allen. I’m attracted to all kinds of men…including white men.”
“I don’t understand black women like you. Do you date white men because of what they can give you? Did you date Derrick Matthews because of what he could do for you? Is that how you got your highfalutin position up on the fifth floor?”
He’s so close to the truth of how I may have gotten my new job that I go on the defensive. “Allen you’re being insulting. Of course, I didn’t use my relationship with Derrick to get my job here. I don’t appreciate what you’re implying. If that’s what think of me, then there’s no point in our knowing each other beyond a simple hi and bye.”
“Tiressa, I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying that I don’t get why black women fall for white men.”
“Look, Allen, I’m not going to get into some deep discussion with you debating why black women date outside their race. That’s such a loaded topic, and it really doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Well it shouldn’t, because it’s none of your business.”
“It doesn’t have to be my business for me to give a damn. You have some white man panting after you and—”
Tired of his unyielding point of view, I demand. “So, you’re telling me that the chivalrous Officer Allen Langston has never dated or been attracted to white women? Because I won’t believe it.”
“We’re not talking about me. Just because black men want to date, screw or marry the rainbow, doesn’t mean we like to see our women with white men. Especially white men with lots of money. It just seems to me like he’s buying you. And you’re allowing yourself to be bought.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous Allen. First, what happened to, the heart wants what the heart wants? If the heart wants someone of a different race, then it is what it is. Second, it shouldn’t matter whether the guy is loaded or not, as long as he treats her like he adores her. And third, it sounds like your wounded black-man ego is throwing all kinds of shade, with that do-as-I-say, not-as-I-do bullshit.” I exhale a loud huff. “You need to change the topic, you’re starting to make me angry, and I really don’t want to hang up this phone on you.”
At first, it didn’t seem like he was going to drop it, but then... “Okay. I don’t want you to be mad at me; especially when we’ve just made up. But I have to know…were you in love with him?”
“No Allen. It’s wasn’t like that. I—” He cuts me off.
“Who called it quits? Him or you?” Apparently, Allen can be a stubborn man when he chooses to be.
“Allen is this really necessary?” I hedge, not wanting to say or explain my past relationship with Derrick—however brief it was.
“Yes, Tiressa, for me it is.” Allen responds doggedly.
Relenting, I give him just enough information. “We decided that we weren’t really a match for each other and agreed to just be friends.”
“I don’t know if I believe that Tiressa. Who decided that you would just be friends? You or Him?”
Super tired of this subject and wanting to bring the discussion to an end, I confess. “Okay Allen. I broke it off with Derrick. But we agreed to be friends. And that’s what we are. We’re just friends.”
“I knew it!” He exclaims, as if he has just uncovered the key to the root of some huge dilemma. “That explains it all. Like I said, he still wants you Tiressa. And arranging for me to be out of town for an extended period of time, is his way of attempting to come between us.”
“Allen you’re being paranoid, and you’re grasping at straws.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m telling you, Allen, you’re wrong. Derrick isn’t a factor, and he’s not trying to come between us.” I say in a light-hearted teasing tone.
“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure?”
“Well…he doesn’t know anything about us, because there is no us.”
“Maybe there’s no us at this exact moment, but there’s about to be. It’s time for us to jump the next hurdle.”
“What hurdle?”
“Although I’m tempted to talk dirty to you while we’re both here at the job, I’d like your personal number and a date. Not one of those lunch dates that’s not a real date.”
Just as I’m about to give Allen my cell number and the promise of a real date, an image of the tall stranger from the other day flashes in my mind. I don’t know who he is and I haven’t seen him since, but he seems familiar to me somehow and I haven’t been able to get him out of my thoughts.
Shaking off the bizarre feeling, I give Allen my cell number and we arrange to see each other after work. Hanging up the phone, I think about how much I like Allen Langston. I actually was waiting impatiently for his call. I haven’t done that since back when I was dating my ex-husband. Of course, I can’t be sure that anything will come out of my attraction to him, or his to me. But, I’m going to take my friends’ advice and see if a relationship can grow between us. If we’re meant to be together, then it will happen.
***
Kathy and I alternate between working at the office and driving out to Bentini Mansion. Currently, we are assisting Mrs. Bentini with planning an upcoming birthday party for two of her sons. I know Jason of course, but I only recently met Adam Bentini. The brothers are natural heartbreakers with their sleek dark Italian good looks.
I’m introduced to three more Bentini men, when Kathy and I attend a meeting in the big conference room on the fifth floor. I try not to stare as I enter the spacious room, drenched in sunlight streaming from a row of floor to ceiling windows. There’s a huge table smack dab in the middle of the room, surrounded by expensive looking black leather chairs. This particular room is used far less often than the smaller conference rooms. From photos around the building and in B&S brochures, I instantly recognize that two of the men are brothers. They
’re standing next to each other, near the conference table, talking to two other men—and their similarities are too marked to miss. Another man is standing in front of a section of windows, with his back to the room. He appears to be looking out at a view of the plaza below or the park across the street. The men pause in their conversation and Kathy introduces me to everyone by way of, “Good morning gentlemen, if you haven’t already met her, this is Tiressa Hawkins, Mrs. Bentini’s new PA. Tiressa, this is William and Nicholas Bentini.” Welcomes, smiles, and handshakes are exchanged, and then Kathy quickly introduces me to the other two men waiting patiently. We make our way towards the other end of the conference table and take seats, out of everyone’s way.
Kathy leans over and whisper, “Don’t worry about Antonio—the one at the window—he doesn’t mean to slight you, that’s just how he gets when he’s thinking in beast mode.” She then reminds me that we are to be as inconspicuous as possible. I give a nod to let her know that I understand.
Just as I’m glancing around the room, the man standing at the window suddenly turns. Our eyes clash and I swear I feel a jolt of electricity go through my body.
Damn! He’s the man that winked at me…the one with the intense eyes. My tall stranger!
Confused and more than a little disturbed, I immediately drop my eyes. My heart is racing out of control. I feel lightheaded and faint. I don’t know why I’m reacting to Antonio Bentini like this. Sure, he’s the image of my dream lover, but I’ve been around men who were more attractive. They’ve never shattered my composure so completely and had me damn near panting. As I pick up my pen preparing to take notes, I pray Kathy doesn’t notice my trembling hands and bated breath.
In that brief glance, it wasn’t hard to see that he’s a Bentini thru and thru…no wonder he seemed so familiar to me. Although his eyes are a dark gray—and not the family blue—he has the thick wavy black hair, full eyebrows, and same athletic build as the other Bentini men. But he’s different…a tad darker…more rugged and, well… dangerous. I don’t know why I get the feeling that he’s dangerous. My instincts tell me that he is someone you don’t want to make an enemy of. I’m not easily intimidated, but I admit that he intimidates the hell out of me. Yet, there is something about Antonio Bentini’s overpowering size and unpolished look that I find both highly attractive and excitingly threatening.
Everyone takes a seat and the meeting soon gets underway. I begin to slowly relax as I realize that everyone at the table appears to be in a jovial mood. Their conversation is a mixture of business and personal matters. More men enter the room quietly apologizing for being late and explaining what held them up. One of the latecomers is Derrick. As he takes a seat, he shoots me a cocky grin, which I promptly ignore. Like a moth drawn to the light, my eyes flicker to Antonio Bentini only to be surprised to see that his searing gaze is centered on me.
After that, I take my notes seldom looking up. The Bentini brothers seem to enjoy cutting each other off and talking over one another. Of all the voices bouncing around the room, Antonio Bentini’s is the most remarkable—at least to me. He speaks in a deep baritone with a snap to it. As if he’s used to giving orders and expects them to be obeyed instantly.
Although the discussions are lively and very interesting, I can’t wait for this meeting to be over. I desperately need a break from all the male testosterone in the room. I don’t like feeling off kilter, and having so many authoritative boisterous men in one place—no matter how spacious—is a bit much. Where are the women? This is the twenty-first century after all.
I soon get my wish. The men conclude their meeting, stand up and file out of the conference room—laughing and talking. As Kathy and I gather our stuff, preparing to leave, I look up and right into the eyes of Antonio Bentini. Damn, not again!
Like the coward that I didn’t know I was until recently, I quickly drop my eyes…again!
When I look back up, Antonio Bentini is gone.
***
I’ve put last week’s looking incident out of my mind because I’m convinced that I imagined the whole thing. I’m relieved that I haven’t seen him since. I feel ridiculous every time I think that a man like Antonio Bentini could possibly be giving me the eye. Although I’m confident in my attractiveness, I’ve come to the realization that I do have relationship issues. Not that any of it matters since my boss would flip her lid if she knew that I was daydreaming about her son. So, it’s probably a good thing that Antonio Bentini is not interested in me. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do with a man like him—even if some trick was being played by Eros, the Greek mythological god of love, and he found me attractive enough to merit a look. Anyway, from what I can tell, my type of black-girl appeal is primarily appreciated by black and Hispanic men. And I’m okay with that. I love my looks and I wouldn’t trade who I am for anything in the world.
I’ve heard it said many times, in many different ways, that most white men can’t handle black women, and wouldn’t know what to do with a size twelve when all they ever deal with is a size two. Which kinda makes sense because most white men are built on the small-side themselves. Personally, I think it takes a special kind of non-black man, who wasn’t raised by a black woman, to appreciate the unique attributes of black women. I’m not claiming that white men aren’t attracted to black women, because of course some are. Unfortunately, according to Hollywood, those black women usually have to be mixed and beautiful, or have a special talent—like acting, singing, dancing—or have loads of money and social status. White men like Derrick are different. They’re kinda special, in that they grow up around black people, and have a certain level of familiarity and comfort with black people and the black culture. There are other types of white men that tend to simply love women–all women. They tend to view certain black women more as exotic and therefore something to obtain.
Oh well, it is what it is. And it’s a good thing that I imagined ‘the look’.
Chapter 6
I’m running all over B&S, from one meeting to the next, during one of the busiest weeks so far, when Antonio Bentini stops me as I’m leaving one of the small conference rooms on the third floor.
“Hello, Ms. Hawkins.” He greets, placing a hand at my elbow as he motions me over to a window alcove. I’m so surprised that I blank-off for a minute. Thankfully, the alcove is more than a few steps away and that gives me time to get myself together before he starts talking to me. “I want to apologize for our not being properly introduced the other day. There was a lot on my mind and I was very distracted.”
He doesn’t seem to want to let go of my elbow, which prompts me to take a small step back; just enough so that his fingers fall away. Facing him, I look up and then up a little more—my goodness he’s tall. He’s got to be at least six-five, and this close he’s really big…and really solid. I don’t want to be attracted to this man, but I am.
I finally remember that he’s saying something about an introduction. “Um…that’s quite alright. I’m sure you’re a very busy man.” I stammer out, extremely nervous to be standing so near him.
“Yes, I am busy, but that’s no excuse, Ms. Hawkins.” His tone is low and intimate. Our being in this alcove is intimate. Too intimate. “I was incredibly rude to you…and for that, I apologize.”
I try to smile. I don’t know where to put my eyes. “I accept your apology, Mr. Bentini.”
He steps close again and I’m almost certain that he knows that he’s making me uncomfortable. “Thank you for being so nice about it. I appreciate your kindness.”
I need to get away from him. “Think nothing of it.” I say as I edge around him and move to walk away. “I’m sorry Mr. Bentini, I have another meeting to get to.”
“Of course.” Stepping out of the alcove, he surprises me when he starts walking down the hallway by my side. We walk in silence until we get to the elevators. “Are you always so quiet, Ms. Hawkins?” He inquires with a stern expression. Glancing up at him and then quickly at the glowing numbers on
the elevator panel, I try to think of an appropriate response, but nothing comes to mind. So, I’m standing next to him tongue-tied and in brain-fart mode. Lucky for me the elevator doors slide open and—
Damn… Of all people to run into…
“Tiressa!” Antonio Bentini puts a large strong hand at my back and ushers me into the elevator in front of him.
Plastering a smile on my face, I greet Jason Bentini. “Hi Jason.”
“Is that all I get…a hi Jason.” He exclaims, opening his arms and giving me an exuberant hug. Just like his brother, when he steps close, he blocks everything out. I can’t see Antonio Bentini’s reaction to this very unprofessional display. I immediately start worrying that Mrs. Bentini will hear about this and I’ll end up losing my job before I’ve even had a chance to explain myself. Thank gawd Jason’s embrace is brief. When he steps back, I slant a quick glance at Antonio Bentini. Then wish I hadn’t. His annoyed expression looks anything but pleased. Shit!
Looking to a cheesing Jason, I wonder if he’s aware that his show of friendship—in such a public place—could have negative consequences for me.
“So, how’s it going Tiressa? I haven’t seen you since the celebration at your school.” Before I can respond, he continues talking. “I see you’ve met my big brother…well, one of my big brothers.” He says cheerfully, still not picking up on the body language of the other two people in the elevator with him. My worried gaze shifts from friendly Jason’s, to scowling Antonio Bentini, a few more times before mercifully, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open. Stepping out of the elevator, the three of us begin walking. I’m headed to my office; I don’t know where they’re going. Then Jason, stops and looks at me as if he has just hit on the best idea ever. “Hey, Tiressa, how about Antonio and I take you to lunch to celebrate your new job?”