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

about her in months. I’m sure a woman like that has enemies other than me.”
    Mickey pulled out a gun and poked it into my ribs near my heart. “You have every reason to wish Sophia ill, but the only way we can help each other is if you tell me where she is.”
    “Mickey, please. I honestly have no idea. I honestly—” I started reaching for the machete that I kept in my backpack during the summer months. Without a coat, I couldn’t strap the weapon to my belt—too obvious. I had never gotten around to acquiring a sheath.
    Another voice said, “Mickey Balanchine, welcome home. There’s a gun pointed at the back of your head so I suggest you drop your weapon.” Mr. Delacroix was pushing an object into Mickey’s skull, but even in the darkness, it didn’t look like a gun to me. It was a bottle of something. Wine? “Unless there’s somebody else with you, I suggest you drop the gun. You’re one against two, and I know Ms. Balanchine is probably itching to pull out that machete she thinks no one knows about.”
    “I’m alone,” Mickey said as he slowly lowered his weapon.
    “Good man,” Mr. Delacroix said.
    “I don’t want to hurt her,” Mickey said. He coughed and the sound was deep and rattling. “I only want information.” Mickey set the gun on the ground, and I picked it up. Despite how this scene may appear, I was not particularly happy to have Mr. Delacroix’s intervention at that moment. I did not believe my cousin would shoot me nor did I want Mr. Delacroix involved with the Family in any way. Frankly, his hero act annoyed me. I saw through it. As I had known when I asked him to work for me, Mr. Delacroix was self-interested above all else, and it felt false for him to pretend otherwise. Besides, I did not require heroism—I had been the hero of my life for some time.
    “If that’s true, come inside and discuss the matter like a civilized person,” Mr. Delacroix said to my cousin. “We’re all getting soaked, and you look as if you might get pneumonia if we stay out here much longer.”
    “Okay,” he said.
    Once the three of us were inside, I went to the guard’s station to tell Jones, who ran security for the club, that I needed him to stay with Mickey.
    Our party now expanded by one, we went up the stairs and past the club space to my office. I unlocked the door and told Jones and Mickey to wait inside. I then went back out to the hallway to dismiss Mr. Delacroix for the evening. He handed me a thin towel that must have come from the club’s kitchen.
    “You need personal security,” he said. “I’m not going to be around to rescue you—”
    I interrupted him. “I’m glad you bring that up, Mr. Delacroix. I wanted to remind you that you were not hired for heroics.”
    “Heroics?” he asked. “Hired?”
    “Hired,” I said. “You are my employee.”
    “Your partner. I assume I understand the contracts I vetted.”
    “My share in this business is far greater than yours and I don’t need your permission to do anything.”
    He looked at me with an even expression. “Fine, Anya. What does madame require?”
    “Legal counsel,” I said. “Nothing more.”
    “So I understand my responsibilities … If I see you at night—let’s say it’s dark and stormy—and you are being attacked by a man I recognize as the mafiya cousin who may or may not have tried to murder you and your family, protocol dictates that I should”—he shrugged—“look the other way and let you die?”
    “Yes, but—”
    Now he interrupted me. “Good. I’m glad that’s cleared up.”
    “I wouldn’t have died. I haven’t died yet. I even survived being poisoned, if you can believe that.”
    “Be that as it may, as your legal adviser and only in that capacity —I wouldn’t want to overstep here—I think it would be useful for you to have security.”
    “You’re taking this the wrong way. I’m saying we need boundaries. Our roles need to be defined. I appreciate your need to know