In the Age of Love and Chocolate (Birthright #3)(25)

“I know we don’t normally discuss such matters, but I was sorry to hear about your divorce,” I said.

His eyes flashed anger and he pulled his hand away. “Is my dirty laundry public knowledge now?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. Win told Natty. She told me.”

“Frankly, Anya, I’d rather not…” he said.

“Fine,” I said. “You are allowed to give me advice. You are allowed to offer opinions on everything in my life, but we can’t ever talk about anything to do with you.”

He didn’t reply.

“This is ridiculous, Mr. Delacroix. You are my friend.”

“Can you be certain of that? Colleague, I will give you. I have many of them. But friend? You cannot be my friend, because I have no friends.”

“Yes! It is not a usual friendship, but it is one. And you are mean to pretend that it isn’t. I’m an orphan, alone in the world, and I know very well who my friends are. So, yes, we are friends, Mr. Delacroix, and as your friend, I am allowed to offer sympathy when I can plainly see my friend is upset.”

He stood. “If that’s all, I should go. I will begin looking for investors.”

On his way back to the table, Theo passed Mr. Delacroix. “Bye, Delacroix,” Theo called, but Mr. Delacroix did not reply. “Where is he going?”

“To get investors.”

“Right this moment? It’s New Year’s Day.”

I shrugged.

Theo set the drinks on the table. “We are doing this, then?” Theo clinked his glass to mine, and then he leaned across the table to kiss me.

“Whoa, Theo,” I said, pulling away.

“What?”

“Last night was last night, and this morning is this morning.”

Theo took a drink. “As you like,” he said. “Let’s go eat. The club doesn’t open for hours, and I am sick to death of macaroni and peas.”

* * *

Toro Supper Club was in a ground-floor apartment in a housing project in Washington Heights. A leather-skinned gentleman with a jet-black curly mustache poked his head out the window and called, “Theo, my man! Good to see you!”

“Dali, I brought Anya with me!” Theo yelled from the street.

“It’s freezing out there,” Dali said. “Come inside.”

Dali greeted Theo by kissing him on both his cheeks. “Anya,” Dali said, “I am an admirer of your club, but Theo didn’t say you were such a beauty.”

For New Year’s, the supper club was serving breakfast, brunch, or maybe it was indeed a late supper for those who hadn’t yet made it home from the prior evening’s merriments. The scent emanating from the kitchen was familiar. It only took me a moment to place it. “Theo, how in the world did you find out how to get mole in Manhattan?” I asked.

“Mole contains cacao, and Granja supplies it,” Theo said. “Besides, I am very popular in this city.”

The restaurant only had three tables, and two of them were filled by the time we walked in. There were blue-and-white-checked tablecloths and votive candles in blue glass holders. A dried rose with a bent neck stood in a vase by the fireplace.

The mole was perhaps not quite as good as it had been at Granja Mañana, but it was close. The flavor was delicious and spicy. My eyes began to water.

“Anya,” Theo said, “you are crying. You really must have been starving.”

“It’s the heat. I’ll be fine.” I waved my hand in front of my face. “I like the heat.”

I ate three more bowls. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. Theo laughed at me as I sat and contemplated whether to go on to a fourth bowl.

“I can’t do it,” I said finally. I pushed the bowl away and tried not to belch. I was so warm and satisfied; I barely knew what to do with myself.

We couldn’t get a cab, so we walked the long way back to the club. It took hours, but we were young and strong and had the time to spare.

“It’s not the safest walk,” I warned him. “But it’s daytime, and I do have my machete.”

By the time we reached the southernmost side of Central Park, it had begun to snow. I was a little cold, so when Theo put his arm over my shoulder, I let him.

“Theo,” I said guiltily, “aren’t we better as friends?”

“Who says we will not be friends because we kiss each other in the park every now and again?”

I leaned in to kiss him but then I stopped myself. “You need to know: I don’t love you that way.”

“What does it matter? I do not love you either. Let us have some fun together. I like you. You like me. No one has to say A-M-O-R or anything estúpido like that. We are both good-looking and alone. So why not?”

Why not indeed?

My breath probably stunk of chicken mole, but what difference did it make? Theo didn’t worship me. He didn’t think I was a princess. That is to say, he knew my breath did not always taste of mint chewing gum and cinnamon. I leaned over and kissed him hard. It is nice, on occasion, to kiss someone because he is cute and because it is fun and because it feels so good.

VIII

I ACQUIRE TWO ADDITIONAL ROOMMATES

IN THE MONTHS SINCE SCARLET had had her baby, I’d seen her only a handful of times. Though she had attended the opening of my club, she’d left early, before any of the fun started. She had missed my New Year’s party because she’d spent the holiday with Gable’s parents. In an attempt to be a good godparent, I’d gone to Midnight Mass with her and Felix. But that was it. We didn’t have school to keep us together, and she lived a lot farther away than she used to—sixty-two more blocks.