wouldn’t come to regret his decision.
She considered calling their father, but didn’t want to upset Michael. He was running the factory, and would be furious with her if she involved their dad.
Her assistant manager, Valencia, arrived and walked to the back to clock in for work.
Coco hid her shock when Ransom entered the shop a few minutes later. Smiling, she greeted him cheerfully. “How are you, Ransom?”
“I’m good,” he responded, taking a seat at the bar. “I figured since we’re neighbors, I should come check out the chocolate here. I’ve heard a lot of great things about this place.”
“So you’re coming to see if it lives up to the reviews, huh?”
He met her gaze. “Something like that.”
She cleared her throat. “So, how do your students feel about having to work in the factory with Michael?”
“They were actually excited about working with him. I also have one working two doors down at the restaurant, and another at the grocery store.”
She frowned. That was not what she’d expected him to say. “Really? They wanted to do it?”
“Yeah, they were eager to work in the factory. I suspect more out of curiosity than anything,” Ransom answered. “To be honest, I was surprised Mr. Chou agreed to let me send a kid over. I half expected him to nix the idea.”
“He’s a nice man and the father of eight, so he must really love children. I know he does a lot in the community.”
“I’d heard that,” Ransom told her. “That’s why I went to talk to him.”
“I know you probably think I’m a snob or something because I refused,” Coco stated, folding her arms across her chest. “But I’m really not.”
“To be honest, I did think that,” Ransom admitted. “But now that I’m seeing this place from the inside, I can tell that you cater to a certain type of customer.”
“It’s not only that, Ransom. What would I have him do?”
“He could sweep up for you, or wash dishes—anything. He doesn’t have to work with your customers.”
“I hadn’t considered that,” she said. “Oh, I’m forgetting my manners. Ransom, would you like something to drink? It’s on the house, and hopefully, it’ll impress you enough to give a good review when you’re asked about the shop.”
His smile sent a thrill through her. “Thank you. I’d like to try one of those…drinking chocolate. Is that a fancy name for cocoa?”
Coco laughed. “‘Drinking chocolate’ is a European term for hot chocolate, Ransom. It’s not a powder like cocoa, but actual pieces of chocolate melted into a cup of boiling water or milk. I always use milk.”
“So which one would you recommend I try?”
“That will depend on what flavors you like,” she answered with a smile. “The dulce de leche is made with real white chocolate and natural caramel.” Coco surveyed him for a moment, then said, “You look like a German chocolate kind of man. My German chocolate drink is made of milk chocolate, caramel and coconut milk. Once you take a sip, you’ll swear you are back in your grandma’s kitchen. I also have strawberries and white chocolate, chocolate mint and Moroccan spice.”
“I’ll try the German chocolate,” Ransom decided.
His cell phone rang.
“Would you excuse me, please? I need to take this call.”
While he was talking to someone back at the center, Coco glanced up at him, studying his profile. This man looks so familiar to me. I must have seen him someplace. But where? There was something oddly familiar about him, although she was still positive they had never met before now.
She poured the hot liquid into two cups, one for Ransom and one for herself. There was nothing wrong with bonding over a mug of drinking chocolate.
She handed him the cup when he put away his phone.
“Thank you.” He took a sip of the soothing liquid and smiled. “You were right. This is delicious and it does remind me of my grandmother’s kitchen. She used to make me German chocolate cakes for my birthday every year until the day she died.”
“When was that?” Coco inquired.
“Five years ago,” Ransom told her. “I miss her a lot. My mom, too.”
“You lost your mother?” Coco couldn’t imagine the pain of such a deep loss. She adored her mom and didn’t know how she would survive such grief.
He nodded. “She died last year.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Coco said earnestly.
“She worked hard all her life,” Ransom murmured. “I’m glad she can rest peacefully now.”
“I suppose that’s a good way of looking at it.” Coco took a sip of her drink, then asked, “Could you please tell me more about your program?”
“Sure,” he responded. “What would you like to know?”
“You get these boys only when they’re suspended from school, if I understand correctly. I guess I can’t help but wonder if what you’re doing really helps them in the long term. You only have the students for, what, three or four days?”
“I have them for the entire time they’re suspended,” stated Ransom. “That can be up to ten days, sometimes longer. And many continue to come back even after they’re returned to school.”
“Is that enough time to make a real difference in their lives?”
He set his drink down on the bar. “I know we can’t save everyone, Coco, but we have had some great successes. I’ve had two boys give up their flags.”
Puzzled, she said, “Give up their flags…what does that mean?”
“That they are leaving their gangs,” Ransom explained.
“Are they safe when they do that?” Coco asked. “I thought the only way out was through death for most of these kids.”
“We move them into a safe house outside of Los Angeles, so that they can live without fear. I have four houses around the country just for situations like this.”
She was impressed. “Wow. Ransom, I think that’s wonderful. It sounds like you’re really dedicated to these boys.”
“I am,” he confirmed. “I really believe that it takes a village to raise children, Coco. Most of the students who have come through my program show a marked improvement when they return to school. When they come to me, I get copies of their school records, which show that most are not bad kids. Many are growing up in single parent homes, and gangs provide the family they crave. Some are misjudged because of the way they dress or who they associate with.”
“I
