Free BWWM Romance: Crossing The Line: Interracial Romance / Wealthy Love Interest by Aisha M. Taylor

dinner, not to come cook it. Being able to use the front door was a plus. In her heart of hearts, she hoped that Virgil had more sense than to expose her to some bigoted nonsense.
    Virgil didn’t bother to give her a tour of the main property. He moved swiftly through the wide halls with her in tow. Shawna barely got a glimpse into the family room with its old school fireplace and a painting of some ancient family member surrounded by all of his valuable possessions. She spotted a stuffed bird of some sort in another room, and the family library was located close by as well. Virgil had to double back to drag her from the library with its ceiling-height shelves, packed with every conceivable volume from centuries past.
    “What’s in the books?”
    “Honestly, I have no idea.”
    The dining room was something out of a movie. The long table was covered with an ironed and starched white tablecloth. The aroma of the red and orange floral centerpiece could be detected from out in the hallway and its colors matched those of the oriental rug. Tall white candles filled the empty spaces on the table. An elaborate gold chandelier hung from the high ceiling. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found. Shawna smirked at the little silver domes over the plates. She had seen them in movies, but didn’t think they really existed.
    No one else was in the dining room. Virgil mumbled something under his breath and headed for a different door. He was cut off by an older black woman in a maid’s uniform. She carried a large serving dish, which she shifted to the side to avoid running into Virgil.
    “Where’s the fire, young man?”
    “Sorry, Mrs. Hargrove. Have you seen my parents?”
    “They’re in the sitting room waiting for you.”
    Virgil looked over his shoulder at Shawna and back to Mrs. Hargrove. “Mrs. Hargrove, Miss Shawna Mills.”
    “It’s nice to meet you, dear.”
    “The pleasure is mine,” Shawna said.
    “She’s cute,” Mrs. Hargrove told Virgil. “Keep her away from your mama.”
    Shawna’s mouth fell open and she quickly closed it. Virgil and Mrs. Hargrove exchanged a look.
    “Wait here,” Virgil told Shawna.
    Shawna watched Mrs. Hargrove set down the serving dish and wipe a smudge from one of the silver domes. Shawna’s grandmother used to work in people’s houses. There was no shame in it, even though there were plenty of people who would say otherwise. It was an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay. Mrs. Hargrove didn’t seem too distraught over it. She hadn’t given Shawna one of those looks that unhappy folks exchange among themselves. The unspoken, unwritten language of facial expressions was common in black households. But the only vibe Shawna received from Mrs. Hargrove was one of mild concern.
    “I don’t know how you got here, honey,” Mrs. Hargrove said, finally. “But you should get out while you can.”
    “What’s wrong with them?”
    “Who knows, but a pretty young thing like you can do better. Do it for your health. I love that knucklehead. He’s a sweet boy, but the rest of them are nuts. Like I said, I love the boy, but he ain’t worth it, honey.”
    “I think Virgil is hiding something from me.”
    “He sure is,” she said. “That ain’t even the child’s name. That’s his stage name.”
    The door swung open again and Virgil re-entered the dining room. He stood behind a chair and beckoned Shawna to stand next to him. Mrs. Hargrove gave Virgil a look. “Be good to her, Alex, or you might regret it.”
    “Alex?” Shawna asked when Mrs. Hargrove disappeared through the door.
    “It’s my middle name . . . Virgil Alexander Dixon.”
    She blew out a puff of air, glad that there was a logical explanation. The secrets she already had on her radar were bad enough.
    “Don’t believe whatever Mrs. Hargrove told you.”
    “Why?”
    “She hates her job and, by extension, us.”
    Shawna shook out her nerves. She had been absorbing Virgil's nervous energy and it made