How to Lead a Life of Crime by Kirsten Miller Read Free Book Online

whatever your father has told you.”
    “You sure you want to start there? Everything the man’s ever said was a lie.”
    Mandel chuckles. “Yes, your father is a master of twisting the truth to his own advantage. But I promise—I’ll never be anything but honest with you. The academy was founded by my great-great-grandmother, Fredericka Mandelbaum, in the 1870s. Very few people know about the institution’s early days. Until the turn of the century, it was known as the Grand Street School. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it?”
    “No.”
    “Yes, well, it was a different beast back then. But it did share our current goal of educating disadvantaged youths. In fact, most of the school’s first students were plucked right off the streets of the Lower East Side. Many were pickpockets and thieves just like you. My grandmother had an eye for talent. Her school was a stunning success from the start.”
    “Yeah?” I fake a yawn. I don’t want him to know that I’m interested. “So why the name change?”
    It seems to be a question that my host is eager to answer. “My grandmother was a philanthropist, but she was also a businesswoman. And I’m not ashamed to admit that some people called her a criminal. She made a fortune trading in stolen goods. When the police shut her down, she fled to Canada, where she died an extremely wealthy woman. Her son wanted to continue the good work that his mother had begun in New York. Unfortunately, the Grand Street School was tainted by its association with the Mandelbaum family. So he dropped ‘baum’ from our name and opened the Mandel Academy in a beautiful building on Beekman Street. Have you seen it?”
    “No.”
    He leans forward, elbows on the table, fingers entwined, eyes on me. “Would you like to?”
    I lean in too. “I didn’t come here for a history lesson or a sightseeing tour. You know who I am. You knew where to find me. You’ve obviously been watching me, and I want to know why.”
    I should terrify him. I’m big, filthy, and I reek of dog shit. But he seems to find me adorable. Like I’m just a naughty little scamp with a plastic pistol who’s told him to reach for the sky.
    “Because I’d like to offer you a place at the Mandel Academy.”
    This time I can’t hide my surprise. Mandel eats it up.
    “It’s a wonderful opportunity,” he continues, sitting back against the plush banquette. “We’re considered the best school in the city, and we only admit eighteen students a year. Since 1960, every one of our graduates has been awarded a full scholarship to an Ivy League university.”
    “I thought the Mandel Academy only accepts charity cases. I’m not exactly what you’d call disadvantaged.”
    I get the sense that he and I define the word differently. But he’d rather humor me than argue. “I’ve decided to make an exception in your case. Although I must say, you look rather disadvantaged at the moment. And you smell even worse.”
    We’re still dancing around the real issue. “My father is on the Mandel Academy’s board of directors. Does he know about this?”
    “Certainly! All of our students are carefully vetted. I could never hide a candidate from a member of our board. Your father has been informed of my plans every step of the way.”
    “Then tell me this.” I lean even closer. “Why the f— do either of you think I’d attend that bastard’s precious alma mater?”
    “For the same reason you’ve been living in his old neighborhood for the past seven months. You want to grow up to be just like him.”
    I grin. There’s no longer any reason to stay, so I scoot my chair away from the table. “I was almost impressed. But you’ve got me all wrong.”
    “Have I?” Mandel asks before I can make my exit.
    “Tell my father I’ll see him soon.”
    “Without my help, you’ll never be ready to face him,” Mandel says.
    The surprise forces me back down in my seat. “What do you mean?” I growl.
    “Your father is one of