“I guess with the music always playing, it was natural you made that assumption,” Ransom said. “The students seem to relate well to music.”
He liked that she seemed interested in his pilot program. Hopefully Coco would allow one of his boys to put in some volunteer hours at her store. “I haven’t been to your shop, but I’ve heard a lot of good things about it.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m pleased with the way things are going. Word of mouth is the best advertisement.”
Michael snapped his finger. “I knew that I recognized your name. You won a Grammy earlier this year.”
Ransom smiled and nodded. “Most people have never heard of me.” He could feel the heat of Coco’s gaze as she quietly observed him.
“You’re one of the biggest songwriters out there,” Michael said. “I know because I have a couple of friends in the industry. My sister here plays the violin.”
Ransom glanced over at her. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”
She gave him a smile that caused his heart to flip. “You might regret it afterward. I haven’t played much in years. I’ve had my hands deep in chocolate.”
They laughed.
If her brother had not been standing there, Ransom most likely would’ve asked Coco out on the spot. But he decided to keep it professional between them. He still held out hope that she would allow one of his students to fulfill his community service hours in her shop. She was one neighbor he was happy to have.
Coco could hardly keep her eyes off the handsome man standing before her. He was not at all what she expected. Ransom had to be at least six-four or –five, his shoulders broad and muscular. His skin was the color of delectable dark chocolate and his eyes a dark brown with a hint of hazel.
He looked familiar, but Coco was sure they had never met. There was something about his eyes. She searched her memory and came up with nothing. She knew some Ransoms but it was their surname.
“I need to get back to the center,” he said. “But before I go, I was talking to Michael about community service.”
Her brother quickly gave her a recap of their conversation.
“Part of the program includes my students volunteering for community service hours,” Ransom interjected.
“I’m going to have some of them help out in the plant,” Michael announced.
Guarded, Coco met his gaze. “Really?”
He nodded. “I think it’s a good idea, sis.”
Although she was very attracted to Ransom, Coco was not about to have a bunch of teens she didn’t know working in her shop.
“Would you be interested in having one of my students come in a couple hours a day?”
“I’m sorry, Ransom. My shop brings in a certain type of clientele and, well, I’m not sure how…” Coco looked to her brother for help.
Ransom gave her a polite smile. “Thank you for your time. I need to pick up lunch for my students and get back to the center.”
“You left me hanging, Michael,” she said after Ransom left the plant. “Now he probably thinks I’m nothing but a snob.”
“Ransom is doing a good thing with those teens,” her brother responded. “It wouldn’t have hurt to let one come over to help you.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t a good program, but he can’t change those kids overnight. Michael, you are taking a great risk by bringing them into the plant. You need to discuss this with Dad and see what he thinks.”
A flash of anger ignited in Michael’s eyes. “I’m the one in control, Coco. I don’t need to report to Dad—not about this.”
“Those boys lead troubled lives and if they are involved in gangs, who knows what will happen?”
“Maybe all they need is to know that they matter in this world, sis,” Michael pointed out. “We grew up with two wonderful parents. Most of those kids are from low-income, single parent homes.”
“So you think I’m wrong for not letting them come to my shop?”
He met her gaze. “I never said that, Coco. I can’t tell you what to do in your shop.”
“And you don’t want me telling you what to do in this plant, right?”
“Right,” he confirmed. “I have everything over here under control.”
Coco released a soft sigh of resignation. “Michael, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Chapter 2
Ransom was attracted to Coco, but he was disappointed in her stuck-up attitude regarding her clientele. He really hadn’t expected her to have any of the students waiting on customers, but she didn’t give him a chance to tell her.
He shook his head sadly. He knew too many people like her.
Ransom knew some boys gravitated to gangs because they were looking for something they didn’t have at home—a sense of family. But he hated the way people sometimes tended to prejudge teens. There was always a reason for bad behavior, but most adults didn’t want to dig deep enough to find it. No one had given up on him, so Ransom vowed to do all he could to help out in turn. He was never going to give up on any child.
Before he ended his canvassing, Ransom picked up two more companies willing to give volunteer hours, so he considered his venture successful. He walked to the deli in the next block to pick up lunch before returning to the center.
Some weeks he had as many as ten boys at D-Unit, but he averaged around four or five. He currently had four students, and decided two would go to the Stanley Chocolates factory, one to the grocery store, and the other would do his community service at the restaurant across the street.
Ransom paid for the sandwiches, chips and sodas. He picked up the box and carried it back to the center. One of his staff members ran out to assist him.
“Thanks,” he said.
His eyes traveled over to the fancy lettering in mint green and brown over the door of Coco’s shop.
She really was a beautiful woman, Ransom thought to himself. Even if she was stuck-up. Maybe once she got to know him better, he might be able to change her mind about community service for his students.
That wasn’t the real reason he wanted to get to know Coco. Ransom couldn’t forget that smile she’d awarded him earlier, or the gleam of interest he’d glimpsed in her eyes. They were attracted to each other.
Moving to the Brentwood area had been one of the best ideas he’d had in a long time.
After a light dinner of spinach salad and grilled salmon, Coco settled down in her den and pulled her violin out of the back of the downstairs closet.
She blew a layer of dust off the instrument.
What am I doing? I haven’t played this thing in almost two years. Some fine man tells me that he’d Chocolate Goodies like to hear me play and what do I do? I run home and pull out my violin.
Ransom was just being polite.
I’m doing this for me, she kept telling herself. It has nothing to do with him.
Coco made sure to hold the violin properly, with her left arm curved underneath the instrument, the chin rest placed between her left shoulder and jaw. She began playing softly.
She had forgotten how much doing so soothed and calmed her. Coco had been playing the violin since she was ten years old and loved it, although in recent years she’d put it away to focus on building her business.
She