Because It Is My Blood (Birthright #2)(93)

“Unfortunately, you aren’t the first boy to say that to me.”

*   *   *

Friday came, and with it, the party. Still I had not heard from Win. I spent the day having the space cleaned and setting up samovars for the frozen hot chocolate along the sides of the room. I’d invited everyone in my circle—though no one from the semya—and Charles Delacroix had invited people, too, including potential investors.

Scarlet and Gable were among the first people to show up. She was about a million months pregnant at this point and I hadn’t been sure if she’d come at all. When I messaged her though, she had replied in about a second: Really happy to have a reason to get out of the house and really happy for the invitation! P.S. Does this mean we aren’t mad at each other anymore? I am so lonesome without you. When she arrived, she hugged me.

“You two married yet?” I asked them.

“We’re thinking about waiting until after she gives birth,” Gable said.

Scarlet shook her head. “I couldn’t get married without you, Anya.”

“This is a terrific place,” Gable said. “What are you planning to do with it anyway?”

“You’ll hear all that soon enough,” I said. “Hey, Gable. You planning to take any pictures tonight?” I asked.

Gable snarled that Scarlet had taken away his camera phone. “Where’s your boyfriend?” he wanted to know.

I pretended I didn’t hear him and I moved on to other guests.

Once most everyone had arrived, I went to the podium at the front of the room. I looked around to see if Win perchance had shown. He hadn’t. Without him or Natty or Leo, I felt a bit unmoored, and it certainly was not the best speech of my life. I ran through the bullet points about the club I was planning to open, and what I planned to serve, and the reason all of this would be perfectly legal. As I described the business, I could feel the room grow deathly quiet, but the quiet did not scare me. “Tonight, you’ll be drinking carob versions of the medicinal health drinks I’ll be serving in the fall. They’re going to taste a lot better then, I promise.” I raised my mug, but I hadn’t remembered to have it filled before starting my speech. Because it seemed awkward not to, I pretended to drink. “Someone once told me that last year’s enemy could very well be this year’s friend, so with that in mind, I’d like to introduce you to my new legal counsel.”

Charles Delacroix took the podium. He had shaved for the occasion, a gesture I appreciated. “Forgive me if I’m a bit rusty. I’m out of practice,” Charles Delacroix began, with a falsely modest chuckle. “Seven months ago, my career in politics, for lack of a better word, ended. We don’t need to go into the reasons why.” He shot a look over at me, which made the crowd laugh. “Tonight, I’m here to talk about the future, however.” He cleared his throat. “Chocolate,” he said. “It’s sweet. It’s pleasant enough. But it’s not worth dying over and it’s certainly not worth losing an election over. Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about chocolate this past year for obvious reasons”—he looked at me again—“and here’s why chocolate matters. Not because I lost or because organized crime is bad. The reason it matters is because the legislation that banned chocolate is and has always been bad legislation.

“How does a city in decline become a city of tomorrow? It’s a question I’ve asked myself nearly every day for the last ten years. And the answer I’ve come to is this: we must rethink the laws. Laws change because people demand change or because people find new ways of interpreting old laws. My friend—and I think I can call her that—Anya Balanchine has come up with a novel way of doing both.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are at the start of something larger than just a nightclub. I see a future where New York City is a shining city once again, a city of laws that make sense. I see a future where people come to New York City for chocolate because it is the only place in the country that has had the good sense to legalize it. I see an economic windfall for this city, this chocolate city.” He paused. “Even when we aren’t elected to serve, we can still find ways to serve. I believe that this is so, and that’s why I have agreed to help Anya Balanchine in any way that I can. I hope you, my friends, will join us.”

It was a far better speech than mine, though it should be noted that Charles Delacroix had had far more practice with such matters. It should also be noted that my colleague’s goals were a bit loftier than my own. He’d never said anything to me about a chocolate city. The term struck me as absurd.

I made my way through the crowd, stopping briefly to talk to Dr. Lau. And then I saw Dr. Freeman from Cacao Now. He shook my hand. “I can’t thank you enough for inviting me. You must come speak to us this summer. This is visionary, Anya. Visionary!”

Just as I had reached the banquet table, a waitress I had hired for the evening told me there was someone who was asking for me outside. I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t hoping for Win.

I went into the hallway, which was deserted. I walked down the stairs. On the landing stood my cousin Fats. He was sweaty and red-faced. Needless to say, he had not been invited. A flight down, I could see his security. That was new. Fats usually traveled alone.

“Fats,” I said lightly. When I was close enough, he kissed me. His lips smacked almost violently against my cheeks. “What brings you here?”