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Author Spotlight

Weekend Read: “To Whom Much is Given” A Novel

“It’s bloody amazing how time flies. We’ve been out of law school for almost ten years,” Dean said. “If you think about it, we spent so many of the critical years of early adulthood together.”
A few memories created a montage in Avery’s mind. “We have a lot of history together.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Dean said sitting on the edge of a chair. “But it would be nice if you offered me a drink while we talk business.”
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Avery left the man she knew for more than twelve years sitting in the living room and wondered why he came into her life. They met during their third day in law school. She was late to her Contracts law class due to a clumsy girl at the corner deli who accidentally spilled a banana smoothie all over her right leg. Avery’s jeans were wet and her high-heeled sandals were sticking to her feet as she ran from the ladies room to her class. She was ten minutes late and she knew she was in trouble. The world always expected black people to be late. Her first week at NYU Law was not the time to reinforce the stereotype.

The notorious Professor Jacob Rathman was writing something on the board when she slipped into the classroom scanning the lecture hall for an available seat. She spied an empty seat in the second row and she cursed under her breath. “Why me?” in a thought process that only drama queens and B-list actors use. All of her friends who attended law school cautioned her to avoid the front rows of her lecture classes at all costs. It was bad enough that her last name was Benjamin. She was destined to be at the mercy of some sadistic professor utilizing the Socratic Method as a way of getting a defenseless first-year law student to talk in class. Alphabetical order worked against her throughout her academic career. Now a banana smoothie became her nemesis. She walked as softly as possible down to the second row; thanking God that there was carpet on the floor to mute her footsteps. Avery eased herself into the chair and opened her laptop never noticing Dean but he completely noticed her as well as the eau de banana smoothie scent she was wearing. She kept looking at her laptop screen but she knew the professor was looking at her.

“Would the young lady in the second row who showed up fashionably late like to tell the class the holding in the case I have written on the board?” Professor Rathman asked.

At that moment, every cell in her body felt a level of primal fear that caused her to realize she could do nothing except fight back. She read the case three times the night before. The professor was a jerk. Three of her friends and a sorority sister gave her the scoop that Professor Rathman was a demon in the classroom but you could learn a lot from him if you weren’t busy plotting his murder.

As Avery maintained her poise, Dean became increasingly fascinated with her. He examined her face out of the corner of his eye knowing he was in view of the professor they would later name ‘Professor Rat Man.’ Dean listened to her voice. It was deep, yet feminine. Avery’s voice filled the room. She spoke with the confidence of a young woman who really did not know the intricacies of the case but was prepared to show the professor that he could not intimidate her. Dean sat through their intellectual sparring match in anticipation that class would end and he would speak to her… but who was she?

“So Miss, in this case, who is the master of the offer?” The tall, imposing professor looked like the stereotypical ivory tower legal academic who gained more enjoyment buried in books than having a conversation with a human being.

“In all due respect Professor Rathman, my name is Ms. Benjamin and the offeror is the master of the offer.” Avery struck a blow to the professor while Dean was trying to figure out how and when he could bed the beauty whose brain seemed sharper than his.

“So I am led to believe you must have read one of those awful cheat sheet legal summaries. Hmmm. Maybe you actually came up with that answer yourself.” Professor Rathman’s sarcastic words came out of his mouth like tiny daggers.
“I read the case several days ago and I did my research,” Avery said realizing the professor would antagonize her for the rest of the year just because of her answer.

“Reading ahead of the syllabus, Ms. Benjamin, can be dangerous.” The class could hear the heels Professor Rathman’s wingtips on the hardwood floor where the carpeting stopped. “That could lead to a false sense of confidence.”

“I took the risk of running ahead so that I would be ready,” Avery said as her mind told her to shut up.
At that moment, Dean realized Avery was a woman he had to have. As a gorgeous man of Scottish and English decent, getting women was never a problem for Dean. At an early age he learned to use his intelligence and good looks. While other boys could not wait to play football or rugby after school, Dean mingled with his father’s students at Oxford University, especially the young women who could not resist chatting with such a precocious youngster.

Dean’s mother embraced the jet set life and showed him how to make the world his playground. His mother’s parents were an English aristocrat and a wealthy substance abusing, womanizing Englishman who showered his mistresses with lavish gifts but made up for his sins and shortcomings by leaving his wife and daughter a sizeable fortune. Living in the world of academia and occasionally skipping off with his mother to Milan or Manhattan was Dean’s reality.

Dean had modeling and acting offers but was more interested in creating art than being the instrument of someone else’s creativity. With a family lineage dating to the 16th Century, he confidently moved within influential social circles. He grew up among the English legal elite, members of Parliament, artists, and academics. He used his father’s brain to get into the best schools in England and the U.S., his mother’s money to indulge his desires, and the charm he inherited from his grandfather to get almost any woman he wanted in an effort to fill an indescribable void in his being. Now Avery piqued more than just his interest.

Want more? Buy the book here.

About the author:

Cecilia T. Capers is a Long Island native who honed her writing skills as an English major with a concentration in theatre and film at Hobart & William Smith Colleges. Following a brief career as an elementary school teacher, she attended Yeshiva University’s Benjamin N. Cardozo School of Law. As a member of the New York State Bar, she has worked in government, as a lobbyist with a major law firm, staff attorney at one of the largest unions in New York State, and political campaign consultant. Capers writes and speaks frequently about the new age of publishing and digital marketing.

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