Read In the Age of Love and Chocolate for Free Online Page A

which had, in the last several weeks, begun to look like a club. The floors were buffed and polished. The painted-cloud ceiling had been restored. Silvery velvet curtains covered the windows, running from the ceiling to the floor, and the walls were painted a deep chocolate brown. A mahogany bar the length of one side of the room had been added, and a bandstand, too. A red carpet would be laid out that afternoon. The only feature we lacked? Paying customers. “ This is rather enormous,” he said. “Now don’t stay too late, and get a good night’s sleep if you can.”
    *   *   *
    Despite Mr. Delacroix’s instructions, that night I lay in my bed not sleeping. As was my custom, I tortured myself by listing everything that might go wrong. It was almost a relief when my cell phone rang and Jones came on the line.
    “Sorry to wake you, Ms. Balanchine. There’s been some vandalism. Someone poured acid—we think it’s acid at least—over the cacao supply.”
    When I arrived, Jones led me to the pantry. The entire batch of cacao had been doused in a chemical that looked like either bleach or acid. Holes were burned into the sacks, and I could see dark mud-like clumps of damp cacao.
    “You shouldn’t spend too long in there,” Jones said. “There’s not much ventilation.”
    My eyes were already watering. I had to think. It was not going to be an easy matter, finding two hundred and fifty pounds of raw cacao for tonight’s opening.
    I was about to leave the room when I noticed a Balanchine Special Dark wrapper sitting on a shelf. Not very subtle, I thought. Of course, subtlety hadn’t been the point.
    I hadn’t heard much from Fats, who was now the head of the Balanchine family. At the prelaunch party in June, he had threatened me that there would be consequences for opening the club. I guess this was what he had meant. I knew I would have to deal with him later. In the meantime, triage. I took out my phone to call my cacao supplier in Mexico.
    “Anya, this hour is insanity. It is too early for me to be speaking English,” Theo said when he picked up.
    “Theo, I’m in trouble.”
    “I am serious as the grave when I say that I will kill for you. I am small but tough.”
    “No, you ridiculous boy. I don’t need you to kill for me.” I explained what had happened. “I wanted to know if anywhere locally might have, say, two hundred and fifty pounds of cacao for tonight?”
    Theo didn’t speak for several seconds. “This is a disaster. My next delivery is not supposed to arrive to you until miércoles . Nowhere in your country can you obtain such a large quantity of cacao, and even if you were able to, you could not be sure of the quality.” He yelled to his sister, “Luna, despiértate! Necesitamos un avión!”
    “Un avión?” My Spanish had atrophied in the months since I had left Casa Marquez. “Wait, isn’t that a plane ?”
    “Yes, Anya, I am coming to you. I cannot let you start your business with subpar cacao. In Chiapas, it is now five a.m. Luna thinks I can get to New York City by afternoon. You will arrange a truck to come meet me?”
    “Of course. But Theo, a cargo plane is very expensive. I can’t let you and your family absorb such a cost.”
    “I have money. I am a rich chocolate baron of Mexico. I will do this for you in exchange for”—he paused to come up with a figure—“50 percent of your first week’s profits.”
    “Fifty percent is kind of high, Theo. Besides, shouldn’t you have negotiated this up front? You’ve already told Luna to get the plane, no?”
    “You speak the truth, Anya. How about 15 percent of your profits until I’m paid back for the cost of the plane and the fuel and the cacao?”
    “Theo, now you’re asking for too little. My business could flop, and then you’ll get nothing.”
    “I believe in you. I taught you everything you know, did I not? Plus, it gives me a good chance to see New York and I can help you, if you like. I would not mind to