I kept my face down, hurt and upset, and quickly responded to Braydon’s text: That sounds great. What time were you thinking?
“Sorry about that.” Zane’s voice interrupted me.
“No problem.”
“So what were we talking about?” He asked me with a brief smile. His eyes looked distracted, and I could tell that his mind was still on his phone call.
“I don’t remember. Maybe you can tell me what you had to say?”
“What I had to say?” He looked at me with a blank expression.
“When you pulled over on the highway.” I frowned. “You said you had something to tell me.”
“Oh yes.” He paused. “It’s not important.”
“You can’t just say that now. I want to know.”
“Lucky.” He leaned towards me again and spoke in a low tone. “I want you to be my undercover lover. I want us to reenact all the scenes from Fifty Shades of Christian and …”
My mouth dropped open as I looked at him. I knew he was a freak. Or more appropriately, a kinky freak. “You what? Do you mean Fifty Shades of Grey?”
Zane burst out laughing and nodded his head. “Sorry, I had to see your face. I’m taking it that you read the book.”
“That is not funny.” I frowned and ignored his question. “You owe me $100.”
Zane pulled out his wallet and took out another set of twenties. “In all seriousness Lucky, I want you to come with me to Los Angeles tomorrow.”
“I can’t go to Los Angeles.” I shook my head. “I have school, and I have to work.”
“Okay.” He sat back and smiled at the waitress as she placed our plates on the table.
“What do you mean, okay?” I frowned. “That’s it. You’re not even going to tell me why?”
“You told me you couldn’t come.”
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t be convinced.” I sprinkled some salt and pepper across my eggs. “Convince me.”
“What are you studying, Lucky?” Zane cut into his omelet. “Last night I think you told me history, right? You know a lot about civil rights stuff?” He spoke nonchalantly.
“Yeah history.” I nodded.
“I like history.” He smiled as he chewed. “It suits you.”
“Why does it suit me? Became I’m old and dowdy.”
“I’d hardly call a supermodel old and dowdy.”
“Then why does history suit me?” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
“It shows me that you’re a thinker. You’re intelligent. You care about the past. You care about people. You care about not making the same mistake twice.”
“What did you study in school?”
“I was a British Literature major.” He grinned. “Very very useful degree.”
“About as useful as it is to know the names of all of King Henry VIII’s wives.” I laughed.
“We all know about King Henry VIII.” Zane laughed. “He left the Catholic church so he could get a divorce from Anne Boleyn, right? Or was it Catherine of Aragon?”
“Smart.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Name for me all of his wives and I’ll be even more impressed.”
“Do they have to be in order?”
“No.” I grinned.
“Okay, that’s easy.” He grinned back at me. “Catherine of Aragon, Mary, Anne Boleyn, and uhm, the other Boleyn sister.”
I burst out laughing as he frowned. “The other Boleyn sister?”
“Right?” He cocked his head. “Or was that a movie.”
“I guess knowing all his wives’ names isn’t that common, right?”
“Okay, you got me. What are the names?”
“First off, ‘The Other Boleyn Girl’ was a book by Philippa Gregory. Now his wives, in order were: Catherine of Aragon, whom he divorced, Anne Boleyn, whom he executed, Jane Seymour, who died, Anne of Cleves, whom he divorced, Kathryn Howard, who was executed and another Katherine, Katherine Parr.”
“What happened to the last Katherine? Did she run away, scared he was going to scream ‘Off with her head?’ or what?” Zane faked a shudder.
“Actually no, Henry died while they were still married and she was widowed.”
“I bet she poisoned him.” He laughed.
“Well that would have been karma for sure.” I laughed and cut into my crepes. “Hmm, these are so good.” I allowed the taste of the lingonberries to dwell in my mouth as I chewed slowly, savoring every bite.
“Come with me to Los Angeles, Lucky.” His voice was low and measured as he changed the subject.
“I still don’t know why you want me to come.”
“I need an assistant. Someone who knows a lot about history. Someone I know I can work with and trust. And I trust you. I don’t trust many people.”
“But I have classes.” I sighed.
“Can you take a leave of absence or withdraw from the classes?” He paused. “I’ll pay for the classes you've already signed up for so you are not out any money and I will pay for the remaining credits for any other classes you have to take.”
“I don’t know.” I bit my lip. “I’m almost done.”
“I’m working on a documentary.” He paused. “It’s about the ’60s. Civil Rights and all that stuff. I think that you could really help me, as a historian.”
“You make movies?” I looked up surprised and slightly bewildered. Why hadn’t he told me before that he was making a documentary about the Civil Rights Movement?
“Well, not movies. Documentaries.” He smiled. “My dad makes blockbusters, I just dabble, so to speak.”
“What’s your documentary about?”
“The education system after 1954.”
“You mean after Brown. v. Board of Education?” I asked excitedly.
“Yes. I’m talking to people to see how the end of segregation impacted their educational experiences.”
“Nothing really changed that much.” I paused. “Not for a long time.”
“You know about the subject?”
“A bit.” I drank some coffee and thought for a moment. “My senior thesis is related to that topic actually.”
“Oh?” He nodded his head and smiled. “Well then it seems like you would be a better assistant than I thought.”