“Acting DA,” he said. “Try to be a little happy, would you? Try to enjoy this moment.” “That’s not my nature, colleague,” I said with a smile.

The night after the last deal closed, Noriko and Leo threw a small dinner party to celebrate the expansion of the business. I don’t know if it was his stint in the psychiatric prison or Noriko’s influence, but Leo was a new man since he’d been released. For one, he suddenly had skills: he knew how to open a wine bottle, how to sear a fish, how to hang curtains, how to fix our sink. He made friends with the other people who lived in our building—perhaps I’m antisocial, but aside from a grunt of greeting, I had never even spoken to any of our neighbors in the eighteen and a half years I had resided there. Leo seemed more capable to me (more capable than me in certain ways) and less a child who needed my care and watch. When he got frustrated, which was rarely, Noriko would put her hand on his back, and in a moment, he would be calm again. (Natty joked that Noriko was the Leo-whisperer.) There had always been conflict between my brother and me, but for the first time in my life, I felt like I could appreciate him as a person.

One other thing: Noriko and Leo loved home improvement. I’d come back to find that they had painted the walls a dusky purple, or reupholstered our old sofa in gray wool. Our apartment became, for the first time since my parents had died, a home.

At the dinner party, the guests included Lucy, Scarlet, Felix, Theo, Mr. Delacroix, and Mr. Delacroix’s new girlfriend, Penelope, who had a shrill voice that made everything she said come off as annoying. Penelope ran her own very successful public relations firm, as she would tell me no fewer than ten times that night. She was nothing like Win’s mother, the pretty dark-haired farmer.

Everyone assumed that Theo and I were a couple, but I never called him my boyfriend. Aside from that one time with Scarlet, he didn’t refer to himself that way either. I liked his company, liked his teasing, liked that he smelled of cinnamon. I liked him and I liked myself when I was with him. By my nature, I was reserved, and by his nature, Theo was the opposite. People seemed to like me better when they met the two of us together; his warmth and good cheer buoyed me. However, I didn’t want to possess him; I didn’t even expect him to stop dating other people (I knew that he had). My heart did not break when we were apart, though I was always glad to see him when we were reunited.

However, I understood why people could have come to the conclusion that Theo was my boyfriend. We were together for work, and we even—Nana would be horrified—lived together. I had not meant to live in sin and I didn’t really like the idea of it. But, well, Theo had come to New York in the middle of an emergency, and he had never moved out.

(NB: Looking back, I probably should have made him.)

After the dinner party, I told Noriko and Leo to go to bed, that I would clean up. Noriko went, but Leo stayed behind to help me. “Annie,” Leo said when we were almost through drying the dishes, “what would you think about Noriko and me going to San Francisco to start up the new club?”

“Are you unhappy in New York?” I asked.

“Of course not, Annie. I love it here. New York is my home. But I really, truly want to do this.” “Why?” I carefully hung the kitchen towel over the back of the chair.

“I guess I want to leave my mark the way you have in New York. I can do it in San Francisco, if you’ll let me. I know I’ve made huge mistakes in the past and that you had to fix them for me. But I’m smarter now, Annie. I don’t make as many mistakes.”

“What about Noriko?” I asked. “How does she feel about this plan?”

“She’s excited, Annie. She’s so smart and she has great ideas. She makes me feel smarter, too.” I am embarrassed to admit this, but I truly had worried that once Noriko’s English improved, she would lose interest in and possibly even leave my brother.

I looked at Leo. His face, which I knew so well, was a little boy’s and a grown man’s at the same time. I knew it cost him every time he had to ask me for anything. “If I agree to this, I’ll have to treat you as I would any employee. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll fire you and Noriko both.”

“I know, Annie! I wouldn’t expect any different. But nothing will go wrong.”

“Well,” I said, “I guess the only problem is how much I’m going to miss you.” I had liked coming home to the apartment to find him and Noriko there.

Leo hugged me ferociously. “Thank you for trusting me! I won’t let you down. I swear I won’t.” Leo hugged me again. “Wait, I had one other thought. What would you think about us taking Simon Green to San Francisco with us? We need a lawyer, and I know Simon could use the job.”

Leo was clearly a better person than I. Frankly, it didn’t seem like the worst idea I’d ever heard, and it would, at the very least, separate Simon Green and me by the width of a continent. “It’s up to you, Leo,” I said. “San Francisco is your show, and you and Noriko should hire who you want.”

The three of them left about a week after my nineteenth birthday. I cried at the airport, I don’t know why. I had not known that I was going to, but then the sight of my brother and his wife, who I’d grown very fond of, filled me with unexpected emotion. Leo reminded me so much of my father. Everything I’d sacrificed to try to keep him safe suddenly seemed worth it.

“I’ll be fine, Annie,” Leo said. “I know,” I said.

“You’ll never stop worrying about me, will you?”

“That’s the thing, Leo. I have. That’s why I’m crying. I’m relieved. I really do believe you’ll be fine.”

With Leo and Noriko gone, Theo and I could not be out of town at the same time—I had to oversee the New York club, which was the headquarters for the business, and Theo was busy setting up the kitchens of the other locations. Consequently, I saw less of Theo in the second half of 2085 than I had in the first. He called me one October night from a hotel room in Chicago. “Anya, I miss you. Say you miss me.”

“I miss you,” I said with a yawn.

“You do not sound like you miss me one bit,” he said. “I’m just tired, Theo. Of course I miss you.”

“Good, then you must come home with me for Christmas,” he said. “I don’t know. Natty and I always spend the holidays in New York.” “She will come, too.”

“Airfare is expensive.”

“You’re a rich lady. You and I fly all the time for work now anyway.”

“Doesn’t everyone in your family hate me for stealing their beloved Theo away?”

“No. They will rejoice to see you. You have not been to Chiapas in almost two years. Besides, the mole we have at Dali’s is good, but it is not up to the standard of the abuelas’.”

“You’re relentless,” I said.

“That’s how you have to be when you farm cacao. Cacao is a demanding plant, as you well know. Too much water, there is mold. Too little water, she dries out and dies.You cannot simply shower her with affection either. She needs to be left alone sometimes to grow. If you make it too easy for her, she won’t produce a strong crop. Sometimes, you do everything right and she still is not satisfied.You remind yourself not to have hurt feelings—for that is just how she is. But she is worth the effort—I tell you,Anya, she is. Get everything right and you are rewarded with an uncommon sweetness, a rich flavor that you can’t find anywhere else. Growing cacao has made me relentless, as you say, but also patient and deliberate. Everything worth loving is difficult. But I get off the subject. You will go with me to Chiapas for Christmas, yes? My bisabuela is not getting any younger, and you have often said you wanted to show Natty my farm.”