Free The Last Boyfriend by J. S. Cooper Page A

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.”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “You could be one of the
interviewers if you want. Maybe use what you learn to help your
research. Talk about an amazing primary