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 drew the bow across the strings, creating a rich, mellow sound. Every now and then she would pluck a string with her index finger, creating a totally different sound. She played until she felt nice and relaxed, then decided to leave the violin out, because she’d really missed playing it.
Still feeling the effects of the busy day, Coco walked through her house to make sure it was secure. Then she headed upstairs to her bedroom and prepared to take a long hot shower.
Her oldest brother, Daniel, called her not too long after. “Are you in bed?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Coco answered, putting him on speakerphone while she slipped on her robe.
“I’m not going to keep you, but I promised Grace that I’d call you tonight. She wants to know if you’re coming over on Saturday for Cinnamon’s birthday party.”
Coco smiled at the mention of her niece’s name. “Of course I’ll be there. Cinna’s going to be the big five. I can’t miss that.”
He gave her the time and location of the party, and then they ended the call.
Coco slipped on a pair of pajamas, then stretched out on the sofa in the sitting room to watch some television before she called it a night. She always watched the news before going to bed.
She frowned. A couple of teenage wannabe gangbangers had attacked a woman, who’d later had a heart attack. She was in the hospital in critical condition.
Coco thought about the types of teens hanging out at D-Unit and felt a growing concern for Ransom. It was admirable how much he wanted to help them, but did those boys really want help? Did they want a better life, and were they willing to work toward it? She wasn’t sure, and with all the gang activity spreading, she couldn’t help being skeptical.
Her brothers were always after her to stop prejudging before she had all the facts. She didn’t have any children, so her only connection was through her friend’s children and her niece, who was only four, soon to be five. The only teens that frequented her shop usually came with their parents.
“You can’t save the world, Ransom,” she whispered.
Chapter 3
Coco caught a glimpse of Ransom as he crossed the street with two of his students the next day. She eased over to the window, observing the teenagers. They were dressed in baggy pants and long T-shirts. They looked like thugs to her, but it was clear that Ransom saw something else.
He was talking and laughing with them as if they were all friends. If they
