To My Arrogant Boss (The Inappropriate Bachelors #2) - J. S. Cooper Page 0,51

her. “So let’s go, what do you want to know?”

“What are your parents’ names?”

“My dad is Taft Howard and my mom’s name is Diane, Diane Cornelius Howard.”

“Fancy.”

“What are your parent’s names?”

“My dad is Genaro Garcia and mi mama is Maria Garcia, and I have an older brother, Marco.”

“Genaro, Maria, Marco, and Jane. Got it.”

“What are your sisters’ names?”

“There’s Rosebud—wait, don’t call her that.” I grinned. “She hates it.”

“So Rose, not Rosebud.”

“Yeah, she’s my favorite sister, and then there’s Maybelle, but she goes by Belle, and the youngest is Willow.” I smiled as I thought about my sisters. “All of them are Southern belles, but they all have hearts of gold.”

“It must have been cool growing up with all sisters.”

“I hated it.” I laughed. “I always wanted a brother. Rose was a bit of a tomboy, so that helped.”

“Aw, yeah, I think Marco always wished he had a brother as well.” She laughed. “He got stuck with me.”

“I bet you weren’t a bad sister.”

“I was okay. I wasn’t perfect.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. No one should be perfect. So boring.”

“So, okay, family members out of the way. I know you enjoy writing and you like going to the gym and nature. What else?”

“You remember a lot about me …” I looked at her appreciatively. “You pretty much know everything there is to know about me.”

“Well, not really.” She shook her head. “Would you feel comfortable reading me a piece you wrote?”

“I guess.” I sat back, a prickle of sweat breaking out across my back. I’d never shared my writing with anyone. It made me uncomfortable to think that someone could judge me on something and I had no control over it.

“You don’t have to.” She studied my face. “If you’re not comfortable, I understand.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Hold on.” I got up and walked over to my writing table, grabbed my writing pad, and sat back down. “So I haven’t written a book or anything. I just write short little things that pop into my head.”

“Okay, that sounds good, better than me.” She smiled encouragingly.

“Okay.” I opened the book and flipped through the pages. “I guess I can read you this. See if you know what it’s about.”

“Sounds good.” She leaned forward, a sweet smile on her face.

I cleared my throat and took a couple of deep breaths before reading. “He never thought it would be like this. So dark, and so cold. Even though there were hundreds of them there. The fear stopped the heat. The fear stopped the warmth. He’d wanted his freedom. Wanted to have a life where he didn’t have to get up when Master told him, didn’t have to toil from sun up to sun down, ‘til his back couldn’t carry no more. He hadn’t seen his children in years. Didn’t even know if they were still alive. And then there was Sarah. She’d been sent to Charleston to work in some big house. She was pretty. Too pretty. He knew that she was Master’s favorite. It didn’t always pay to be the favorite. But soon, soon he’d be up North. Massachusetts. He’d have his freedom. There were people there that would help him. He just had to make it. He was tired of walking, his feet caked with dirt, blistered and hard, kept on going, but he didn’t know how much more he could take. Why God had forsaken them? There was no light. Just tracks to follow. On and on. He wasn’t no train, but he sure as hell preferred the dark of the tunnel to the light of the plantation that had become his life.”

I finally took a breath and looked up at her face. She actually looked impressed, and some of the tension left my shoulders.

“Wow, you wrote that?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Did you like it?”

“I did.” She ran her hand through her hair and looked thoughtful. “I’m assuming it’s about a slave?”

I nodded. “A slave in the underground railway.”

“Oh, so an escaping slave. What made you write it?”

“My family and I went to New Orleans last year and we took a couple of trips to see some old plantations. Well, me and my sisters, my parents didn’t go. It struck me that those days were really good to some and really horrible to others.” I took a deep breath. “My family has very different views on the Reconstruction Era, and sometimes it makes me ashamed.” I bit down on my lower lip. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but so much