In the Age of Love and Chocolate (Birthright #3)(6)

“Partner, I’d say. Or legal counsel to unnamed Manhattan club.” He paused. “Mrs. Cobrawick was a formidable woman. When you were at Liberty didn’t she teach you anything about respecting your elders?”

“No.”

“That institution is a waste of the land it sits on. Returning to the discussion at hand. How about the Dark Room?”

I considered it. “Could be worse.”

“There’s the unavoidable photography reference of course. But it’s a little bit evil. It references what we’re selling. And, at this point, we have to choose a name. Don’t you know how publicity works, Anya? You repeat the same message over and over again in as loud a voice as possible. To do this, though, we need to have something to say.”

“The Dark Room,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

“Good. I’m off for the night, then. Happy Birthday, ma’am. Big plans for later?”

“I’m going to a play with my best friend, Scarlet, and Noriko.” Noriko was my brother’s wife and she was also working as my assistant.

“What are you seeing?”

“Scarlet bought the tickets. A comedy, I hope. I hate crying in public.”

“It’s a good policy. I try never to do it myself,” he said.

“Unless it served your interests somehow, I imagine. How’s your son?” I asked casually. We never talked about Win. It was a tiny present to myself to even ask the question.

“Yes, him. Change of plans. The boy has decided to go to college in Boston,” Mr. Delacroix reported.

“He mentioned that.” I’d boxed up his possessions, but I still hadn’t managed to bring them to work.

“He’ll be back for holidays and summers, I imagine,” Mr. Delacroix said. “Jane and I will miss him, of course, but Boston isn’t very far.”

“Well, give him my regards, will you?”

“You could always come give them yourself. His father won’t object.”

“I think that’s done, Mr. Delacroix,” I said. “He doesn’t understand about the business.”

Mr. Delacroix nodded. “No, I can’t imagine that he would. He’s prideful and he’s been too sheltered.”

I wanted to know if Win ever asked about me, but the question was too humiliating. “Relationships aren’t always meant to last forever,” I said, trying to sound wise. If I said this enough times, maybe I would start to believe it. “Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?”

“Life is not easy for the ambitious, Anya.”

“I’m not ambitious,” I said.

“Sure you are.” His mouth was amused, but his eyes were annoyingly certain. “I should know.”

“Thanks for the cake,” I said.

He held out his hand for me to shake. “Happy birthday.”

Not long after Mr. Delacroix departed, I took a bus back to my apartment.

The truth was, I did not miss that boy.

Maybe I missed the idea of that boy.

* * *

(NB: No, it wasn’t just the idea. It was him. I missed that stupid boy, but what was the point of that? I had no right to miss him. I’d made my choice. Forgive me the honeyed lies I told myself—I was still so young. And when we are young, we don’t even know completely what we are giving up.)

* * *

(NB: What I mean to say is that you can make a choice, be reasonably satisfied with it, and still regret that which you did not choose. Maybe it’s like ordering dessert. You have it narrowed down to either a warm peanut butter torte or strawberries jubilee. You choose the torte, and it’s delicious. But you still wonder about those strawberries…)

* * *

(NB: So yes, from time to time, I thought about the strawberries.)

* * *

Noriko and I had been waiting outside the theater for a half hour. “Should we go inside without her?” Noriko’s English had improved a remarkable amount since she’d arrived in America four and a half months ago.

“I’ll go call her from the pay phone,” I said. I hadn’t had time to procure my, as of today, perfectly legal cell phone.

Scarlet picked up on the fifth ring. “Where are you?” I asked.

“Gable was supposed to watch Felix, but he never showed up. I can’t make it. You guys should go to the play without me. I’m really sorry, Annie,” Scarlet said.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said.

“I am worried about it. It’s your birthday, and I wanted to see the play. Can I come meet you later? We’ll dance or have drinks.”

“Honestly, I’ve been working since six in the morning. I’ll probably go home and go to bed.”

“Happy birthday, my love,” Scarlet said.

The play Scarlet had chosen was about an old man and a young woman who switch bodies with each other at a wedding. The young woman’s husband has to learn to love the young woman, even though she’s in the old man’s body. And in the end, everyone learns a lot of lessons about love and acceptance and how it doesn’t matter what body you’re in. It was romantic, and I was not in the mood for a romance, which you’d think Scarlet could have guessed.

When the actors took their bows, they were given a standing ovation, but I stayed in my seat. Romance was a lie. It was so much of a lie that it made me angry. Romance was hormones and fiction. “Boo,” I whispered. “Boo to this whole stupid play.” No one heard me. There was too much applause. I could boo all I wanted and I found this liberating.