And then he left. It would have been pathetic of me to run after him, to insist that he accept my friendship when he clearly thought it was worth so little. Even if I felt like it, I couldn’t leave the party I had thrown. I couldn’t go home, get into bed, pull the covers over my head, and cry. I put a smile on my face and went back to my friends at the bar.

The DJ announced that there were only two minutes until 2085 would officially begin.

Leo and Noriko came over to our group, and Natty chatted to them about whether they should have another wedding, a real one, now that Leo was out of prison.

With thirty seconds to go, Theo took my hand and looked at me with bright and perhaps slightly intoxicated eyes. “Abuela says that it’s bad luck not to kiss someone on New Year’s.”

“You’re such a liar,” I said. “I’m sure your abuela says nothing of the kind.”

“It’s true,” Theo said. “She worries that in New York, I am not getting kissed enough.” I rolled my eyes. “Then you’ve not been telling her the full story.”

“12 … 11 … 10…”

He took my hand and rotated my barstool toward him.

“Life is short,Anya. Do you want to die knowing you had a chance to kiss a sexy Latin man but let it pass you by?”

“What sexy Latin man are you referring to?” “9 … 8 … 7…”

He set his hand on my knee. “Once in your life, chica, you should be kissed by a man who knows how to do it properly.”

“6 … 5 … 4…”

Theo looked at me with his smoldering Jesus eyes, and the Catholic schoolgirl in me crossed her legs.

“3 … 2…”

I would be lying if I said it hadn’t occurred to me that across the room my ex-boyfriend was being kissed by a Vikingmermaidicelandicprincess.

“And 1! Happy New Year! Here’s to 2085!”

“All right, Theo,” I said. “Since it’s a brand-new year, you may as well show me what you mean by ‘properly.’”

I WOKE UPBEFORE DAWN on NewYear’s Day. An idea had popped into my head and, once it had, that idea would not let me rest.

Theo and I had fallen asleep on the sofa. I unwrapped myself from his arms and went outside to call Mr. Delacroix.

“Anya, do you have any idea what time it is?” “Six a.m.-ish?”

“It’s 5:13.”

“You never sleep, so I thought it would be fine.”

“New Year’s Day, I might sleep a little. I’d prefer the option at least.” “Can we meet today? I want to run a business idea by you.”

“Of course. I’ll see you at ten a.m.,” he said.

“You’re already awake anyway,” I said. “Let’s say seven?”

“You’ve gotten to be a huge bully since you’ve become a success,” he said. “Theo’s coming, too.” I hung up.

I went into the living room and shook Theo awake. “Happy New Year, mamacita,” he said drowsily. He puckered his lips but didn’t open his eyes.

“There’s no time for that,” I said. “We’ve got a meeting to get to.”

The three of us met at the Dark Room, which was a mess owing to the previous night’s festivities. “You are looking terrifyingly bright eyed,” Mr. Delacroix said to me. “I’ve seen this look from you before, and it usually means trouble.”

“What is this about, Anya?” Theo asked.

“Well, I was thinking about where the second location should be.”

“Have you gone off Brooklyn again?” Mr. Delacroix said. We had been discussing the possibility of a second Dark Room in Brooklyn for a while.

“No. But last night, my brother was saying how he’d like to work for the club, and the day before that, at Mr. Kipling’s funeral, Simon Green made a similar request.” I looked at Mr. Delacroix. “He wanted your job, actually.”

“He should have it then,” Mr. Delacroix said. “The hours are brutal. And the boss is demanding.” “Sometimes,” I continued, “Fats asks me about jobs for Family guys, too. The black market chocolate business has been bad these last couple of months.”

“Who can say why?” Mr. Delacroix asked. “This isn’t your responsibility.”

“Maybe not, but I think about it. And then, last night, I was talking to you”—I pointed to Theo —“and my sister, and we were joking about Dark Rooms in Canada and Paris—basically places Theo and Natty want to visit. And we had a good laugh. But this morning, I thought, why not? Why open one more location when you can open ten?”

“Oh dear,” Mr. Delacroix said.

“Could we do it, Mr. Delacroix? Could we have a franchise?” “You sound like you’re asking me for a puppy.”

“I’m not asking your permission,” I said coolly.

“I didn’t think you were. But by God, I’d hate to see what you look like when you don’t get what you want for Christmas.”

“I’ve never gotten what I want for Christmas, Mr. Delacroix. I’m used to disappointment.” “What about the year I gave you the machete?” Theo asked.

“Except for that,” I said. “What I want to know, Mr. Delacroix, is if it’s possible for us to raise enough money.”

“Yes, but it’s not only about the money. It’s the logistics—the peculiarities of regional government and laws, the regional scarcity of certain resources and supplies, the particular tastes and habits of the locals, and much more,” Mr. Delacroix said. “Whatever you do, you definitely shouldn’t attempt this abroad. Domestic locations only. And technically you don’t mean ‘franchise.’ You’re talking about a chain.”

Chain sounded so much less glamorous. “What I’m asking you, Theo, is could we use the same menu for all our locations, and could we get enough cacao to supply them?”

“If you wanted Granja to supply it, we would have to get more land, though I could investigate other suppliers,” Theo said. “As for the menu?Yes, it is refined, and I believe it will translate to many different venues.”

“Anya,” Mr. Delacroix said. “This is a bold proposition, and as such, I approve of it. But you should know it’s an enormously risky one, too.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t get in this to be small. You once told me that the only real way to change this world was to be giant.”

“Did I?” “You did.”

“Sounds like hubris.”

Theo said we needed drinks. He went to get them, leaving Mr. Delacroix and me alone at the table.

“We can do this,” Mr. Delacroix said. “And I will help you. But why not sit back and enjoy your success for a while?”

“Because what fun would that be?” I said.

“I don’t know. Some girls like hobbies and boyfriends and diversions of that nature.”

“Mr. Delacroix, you have to understand. I feel responsibility toward the Family and my family, but even more than that, I believe in what we’ve done here. I want to make my business large enough to put a lot more people to work. Wouldn’t that be a very grand accomplishment?”

“Grand. Yes, of course, it would be grand.” He laughed. “You do sound like me sometimes. A younger—obviously—more hopeful, comelier version of me.”

I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, but I didn’t think they were the kind that came from one night’s lost sleep. Although the gesture was unlike me, I put my hand on his.

“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.”