CHAPTER 22
I sat in the drawing room and supervised Carlitos and Serena's tutoring. Serena was playing the silence game with her tutor. Meanwhile, her tutor was trying every trick in the book to get her to talk.
"Don't be such a big baby. You've got to reply to your tutor," Carlitos reprimanded.
"Come on, sweetie. You've got to say a greeting in Spanish," Serena's tutor cajoled her again. This was the first time I'd witnessed a stubborn Serena.
"Answer your tutor. Now, Serena, or I'm telling Mami Buela," Carlitos threatened.
Irrespective of his threat, Serena didn't say a word. Serena's little tantrum seemed to have distracted Carlitos from his studying. His history tutor had remained quiet.
"Serena, sweetie, what's wrong? Do you want a lollipop? An ice cream? I could go get it for you on the condition that you reply to your tutor," I said to her. This trick had been used earlier by her tutor, but I reasoned I could do a better job.
"Come on, Serena. Say something," I cajoled her once more. She didn't budge; she just folded her tiny little arms and looked away with a humph.
I let out a frustrated breath at a loss for what to do. Suddenly, a beeping sound came from my back pocket, which startled me. I reached into my pocket and took out my phone. It was the alarm I had set for the meeting I was to have with Mr. Montoya concerning my observations and solutions I'd submitted to him.
"Miss Clara," I addressed Serena's tutor, "would you please excuse me? I'll be back in a minute."
I walked out of the room and made my way to Mr. Montoya's study. A few minutes later, I stood at his study door. I straightened my clothes and knocked on the door, hoping he wasn't in.
"Come in."
His reply from inside made me square my shoulders before I turned the door handle. Once I was inside, I lifted my head to take in Mr. Montoya behind his desk with an open laptop in front of him. Lucy was there too. She stood behind him and leaned a little into his personal space.
This was the first time I would set my eyes on Lucy after I'd witnessed her entanglement with Mr. Montoya's brother. An image of Lucy up against the tree and Mr. Sebastian between her legs flashed before me. It took me a moment to push it out of my mind.
I had quietly left them to their thing without announcing my presence.
"Good afternoon, sir. Lucy," I greeted. Lucy smiled and gave me a small wave.
"You're late. Ten minutes late," he commented flatly.
"I'm so sorry. I had a little situation with the kids and lost track of time," I explained.
"What happened?" he asked, concerned.
"Learning Spanish isn't coming easy to Serena," was all I could say.
"Hmm…," he hummed and looked briefly at Lucy, who straightened up.
"We'll come back to that topic later. Would you like to take a seat?" he offered one of the chairs across his desk.
"No, thank you, sir. I'm good," I answered, as I preferred the distance to his nearness.
He was wearing a long-sleeved black turtleneck that emphasized his broad shoulders and the muscles underneath. Just imagine being up close to all of that.
"Okay then, suit yourself," his voice pulled me out of my short trance.
Lucy walked away from him to settle on the couch.
"So, I've reviewed your work, and it's brilliant and professional enough. I'll see what I can do concerning socializing with their age group. I should have one or two partners with kids in their age bracket. But I stand firmly on the matter of my kids being homeschooled," he paused to take a quick look at his laptop.
He looked up straight at me shortly after and continued, "For the part where Serena mistakes you for her substitute mom, I don't mind at all if that means she's comfortable around you. But I'll make the points clear to them about your position in their lives."
"No, sir," I said simply because I wasn't satisfied with his conclusion concerning the kids being homeschooled. His jaw flexed.
"No, what, Alice?"
"No, sir, your kids can't continue to be homeschooled," I answered.
"Why not, Alice? You didn't have a problem with that in your list, and your little presentation the other day provided I see to their socialization program," he said.
The door behind me suddenly opened, and I turned to see who it was. Mr. Montoya's brother walked in. He looked so huge and seemed to take up more space than necessary. He wore a white t-shirt and black shorts, and he was covered in sweat.
"Couldn't you have knocked at the very least?" Mr. Montoya asked.
"You only knock when you assume something freaky could be going on inside. With you, that kind of freaky isn't bound to happen. Hey, Alice," he said, and I bowed my head slightly as a greeting.
He took a quick eye scan of the room. A smile lit his face when his eyes landed on Lucy.
"Hey, Lucy, what's up?" he asked with a wink.
"I'm fine," she answered with a blush.
Something was definitely going on with these two, and I planned to ask Lucy about it later if I was brave enough.
"Well, I'm busy," Alex's clipped words came out snappy. When I turned to face him, I caught him staring right at me. My heart missed a few beats, and I moved my weight from one foot to the other.
"I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow, but I have something to discuss first. It's important," Mr. Sebastian said.
I didn't think Mr. Montoya heard his brother because his eyes were locked on mine. His intense gaze made me forget how to breathe.
"So why can't I continue homeschooling my kids? You'd better have something convincing to say, or else we're never revisiting this subject again," he challenged. Oh, game on, Boss.
"Your kids will be cut off from how the world system truly operates," I started my argument.
"They won't be needing that," he countered.
Now, that was an unreasonable thing to say. Maybe I could try a different angle.
"They need the academic competition the school system provides, and your homeschooling lacks," I ventured.
"Competitiveness can be learned at any stage of life," he countered again with a smirk.
"And what stage, might I be so bold as to ask, will you assume your kids will learn it?" I questioned, trying to keep my wits in check.
"You're supposed to be convincing me, Alice, not asking questions. You aren't doing a good job of being convincing," he smirked some more as he enjoyed our little game.
"Mr. Montoya, if you keep homeschooling your kids, how will they navigate relationships and conflicts between enemies, friends, or even authority figures? How will they be able to communicate effectively with these authority figures who aren't their parents?"
I paused for effect.
"The exposure to diverse perspectives, cultures, and belief systems will eventually help them adopt a rational way of thinking. The school provides extracurricular activities like organized sports, debate teams, and bands that provide a level of competition I talked about earlier. And there's room for teamwork that's hard to replicate in the drawing room." To this, he squinted his eyes as if I aimed a gun at him and threatened to pull the trigger.
"The list goes on, Mr. Montoya. The school provides specialized teachers for each subject rather than the hand-picked tutors you made available to them. The bureaucracy—learning how it works? Independence in the form of identity building? They definitely can't achieve all this through homeschooling, sir," I concluded.
Mr. Montoya was about to speak, but a monotonous, slow, slightly loud clap rang out. Mr. Sebastian was clapping, and he had an impressed look on his face.
"She beat you to it, little bro. Damn. You can't say no to that kind of presentation. I'd vote for her if she were running for president," he said and stopped clapping, the smug, impressed look still on his face. Mr. Montoya looked at Lucy.
"Spot on, Big Gun. The kids have been homeschooled all their lives. If she could search for and come up with a good school suggestion, we could as well try it out. It's not a bad idea," Lucy inputted with a shrug.
"Very well then. Go ahead and make your findings. You can report back to Lucy or me when you're done,"
I allowed myself a triumphant smile because, why not?
"Alright, sir. Might I be so bold as to request a favour?" I asked.
"Later," Mr. Montoya said simply and turned his attention to his brother.
"So what was so important that you wanted to talk about so badly?"
That was my cue to leave. I bowed and exited the study.
There was a triumphant elevation in my chest, a soaring heat that turned my blood to liquid. The feeling that my feet weren't even touching the rug was intoxicating. I was floating on the high of my own brilliance. I'd played the Boss's little game, and I came out the winner.