ESME
I slammed my laptop lid closed and grunted for effect. “This disrespectful little motherfuc—”
My phone vibrated beside my laptop with a call, interrupting my vent. I released the air I’d been holding in during my pissed-off state and instantly released the tension in my shoulders.
Malcolm Lawson’s name appeared on the screen as the phone continued vibrating.
I inhaled a deep breath, closed my eyes to gather strength, and snatched up my device. I exhaled as I pressed the green circle on the screen to answer.
Before I could say anything, the voice on the other end of the line spoke.
“Ms. Bennett?”
Smooth and rich like artisan milk chocolate from a chocolatier that always seemed too out of reach. That was the effect of Malcolm’s voice on me.
“Mr. Lawson,” I sighed, clearing my throat a quick second later. “Good evening.”
Was there an age limit on when a woman could have a crush? Because at my grown 34 years of age, I didn’t think I should be crushing so hard on a man.
“I was surprised to see the virtual session had ended,” he began. “I know we usually have our post-session discussion when you and Mason wrap up. We did so last summer. Are you taking a different direction this summer? Because if you are, I can adjust.”
I had tutored his son last summer and had started tutoring him again last week for summer recess. Malcolm had plans to enroll his son, Mason, in a high school that was highly rated in New York City. The Manhattan School for Excellence was one of the best high schools in the state. Admission was strict, requiring students to pass their advanced scholastic assessment exam with no less than a 90%. While Mason excelled in other subjects, math—specifically Algebra and Geometry—was kicking his ass. But his penchant for not wanting to participate or even work through the math problems he struggled with often felt like I was pulling out my own teeth with no Novocaine. On my period.
“No, I’m not taking a different direction.” I inhaled a breath and exhaled it slowly. “Today was a particularly difficult day with Mason.” I shook my head. “Mason was very… his behavior was extremely…”
“Was he being a jerk, Ms. Bennett?”
Yes!
“No,” I lied. “Just very difficult, is all.”
I would never call his child a name. Malcolm’s love for Mason was so evident it was palpable, and I couldn’t help but admire that. It was honestly one of the most attractive things about Malcolm, and that’s saying a lot because there were quite a few things attractive about Malcolm Lawson. That man checked all the boxes—on paper and off it.
A professional who earned enough to live in one of the most expensive high-rises in New York City. I often had to refocus whenever working with his son Mason because the view of Manhattan over his shoulder through the crystal-clear floor-to-ceiling windows was so damn distracting. Malcolm was respectful and engaging, and let’s not skim over the fact that the man was fucking fine, okay?
His deep brown, penetrating eyes, full bow lips, and a smile that I could never resist returning—Malcolm was like Lance Gross’s doppelgänger but taller, darker, and with an even more dazzling white smile, if you can believe that was possible. The man was beautiful, and if I’m honest, one of the reasons I agreed to tutor his son for another summer.
The other reason was Mason himself. From our very first virtual session, I recognized his potential and identified why he struggled in math. He was a genius, but in a way that often clashed with the rigid structure of traditional math instruction. Mason favored innovative problem-solving, approaching math problems in unconventional ways. Rather than following the standard steps, he intuitively jumped to solutions or used shortcuts that weren’t typically taught. He could solve complex algebraic equations in his head or arrive at the correct answer through creative, non-linear methods.
This unconventional approach sometimes made it challenging for him to show his work on paper, which intrigued me even more. To me, Mason’s unique methods, deep understanding, and intuitive grasp of math made him a rare talent worth nurturing, despite his often disrespectful attitude. Working with Mason last summer had also improved the way I taught my students this past school year. So, tutoring him for another summer seemed like a win-win.
That and because I wanted to see his fine-ass daddy again.
Malcolm groaned on the line, and that sent a tingle between my thighs, forcing me to cross my legs at my desk.
His voice.
Out of all the other endearing things, his voice topped the list. It was deep and rich and sexy, and it sounded so damn good. I’d shifted so many times in my seat to calm the tingling happening between my thighs because of it. Shifted so many times, the friction of my ass brushing against the genuine leather of my chair could’ve started a fire.
I sat on the other side of my bedroom at my work desk, my usual place whenever I was lesson planning and preparing for school days when school was in session. It was also where I tutored Malcolm’s son Mason virtually.
Mason.
Ugh!
That little boy tried my patience the moment our session started.
“Why do you even bother?” Mason had said to me the moment I explained what we would be working on during our second virtual session for the summer. “You’re not helping me at all. Maybe my dad should find someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
And that was the least offensive of his remarks. It took everything in me not to go off on him tonight.
It wasn’t like this when I started tutoring him at the start of last summer.
I’m actually not sure what happened. When I first started tutoring him, things were great. He listened, was attentive. He struggled in some areas, but still, Mason was respectful and optimistic that the work we were doing would improve his understanding of everything. I used the same practical examples and interactive exercises as I did with my kids at the elementary school I taught at during the school year, with brilliant results. Obviously, my kids were younger than Mason, but the strategies were literally the same. And I could see my strategies were working for Mason. But there was some kind of switch during the latter part of the summer last year that I couldn’t wrap my mind around why it had happened. Hopeful that things would be different this summer, I agreed to tutor Mason again, only to be faced with the same behavior that seemed to have gotten worse this summer.
“I’m sorry,” Malcolm apologized.
“Mr. Lawson.” I shook my head.
“I apologize for his behavior, whatever that behavior was this evening.”
“You’re always apologizing for him.”
It’s a thought I’d had since the start of Mason’s disrespect but that I’d kept to myself. But it was true. Malcolm was always apologizing for Mason’s behavior. After our weekly post-session video calls last summer and then when we resumed them last week, Malcolm always acknowledged at the start of our video calls Mason’s behavior, and Malcolm would apologize for it. He apologized so much, even that became sexy. He’d apologized so often, I came to expect it.
He’d never apologized over the phone, though.
Malcolm sounded good on a phone line. Quiet storm good. So good, I had to lean back in my seat and get comfortable to enjoy it well enough.
“Can we meet up?” he asked next. “For dinner.”
That got my back off the back of my leather chair. “Excuse me?”
There was silence for a moment.
“I… um…” He inhaled a breath. “Mason did amazing this past school year. He earned his highest grades in math, which has never happened since he started middle school, and it’s because of you. There’s no denying that.”
I smiled.
“And… I know he’s been difficult lately, and I just would like to meet face to face to explain what’s been happening and…” He chuckled. “I just feel dinner is the least I can do to say thank you for all of your excellent work.”
We’d never met in person. From his hiring me to the virtual sessions that started last summer and then resumed this summer, they had all been done from my laptop.
Malcolm and I had barely spoken on the phone. The only other time we’d dialogued on a phone line was when I gave him my phone number after he contacted me by email. He found my profile on a tutoring service website that connected tutors with students and their parents. He viewed my profile, agreed to my rate, which I had purposely set on the higher end of tutoring rates, and he was eager to set up a phone interview with me.
Dinner with Malcolm would be the first time we met in person, and although I knew it was to discuss his son, the idea of seeing him face to face was all the initiative I needed to say, “Okay, sure. Let’s do dinner then.”
New Episodes Of When Love Just Happens Will Be Sent And Posted On Monday, September 8th at 10:15am est!
When Love Just Happens is a spinoff of the Energy Series. Esme appears in both When Luke Met Juliette and in When Life Gives You Sunsets. Get to know her friends Juliette and Clarke in their books below!
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