30. Cora
30
CORA
“ H ello?” I called. I’d been in the middle of a new Masked Mixer video—ever since Jennifer and I had visited the wing joint near our apartment for Souped-up Caesars, I’d been eager to do my own take with a Bloody Mary—but I’d paused the recording when the ringing started from the phone that hung by the front door.
I had everything from deep-fried pickle spears, mini-sliders, olives, and tomato juice spread from one end of our tiny kitchen to the other, but that phone was a direct line to the front desk, so I figured I’d better answer in case it was a delivery or something. I was slowly starting to accumulate ingredients for the drink I planned to make to celebrate one million Instagram followers—a target I was hoping to hit by the end of the year—and I had random packages showing up all the time. The Commonwealth cocktail had a grand total of seventy-one ingredients, so I’d started planning early.
And anyway, the ringing was loud . It wasn’t like I could just ignore it and keep recording.
“Cora?”
“Hey, Carlos,” I said. “How’s it going?”
“Slow day. Can’t really complain. But I’ve got a very grouchy woman here in the lobby who’s threatening to show me a bad time if I don’t let her up to see you.”
I chuckled. There was only one person I knew who would say something like that to Carlos.
“Anyway, says her name’s Maggie,” he continued, confirming my suspicion. “Apparently, she has a delivery for you. But threats or not, I’m not letting anyone past unless you say it’s okay.”
He was such a sweetheart. And since the whole Levi thing, he’d gotten twice as protective. “Thanks for looking out for me, Carlos. I really appreciate it. But she’s all good. You can send her up.”
“Okay, then. She’s on her way.”
I could hear Maggie’s “ about friggin’ time ” through the phone. I imagined Carlos wasn’t sorry to see her go.
“Have a good afternoon.”
“You too, Carlos.” I hung up the phone and stared at my mess on the counter. I wasn’t quite done with my video yet, but I put some of the excess ingredients away in the fridge and corralled dishes into the sink. I’d just started wiping up tomato juice when a knock sounded. I glanced around. Meh, it was presentable enough.
I answered the door, smiling at Maggie as she stood there in the hall holding a small wooden crate. “Heard you were giving Carlos a hard time.” I pulled the door wider, inviting her in.
Maggie stepped past me, looking around. “Yeah. Thought I was gonna have to wrestle him to get into the elevator. He got all blustery as soon as I said your name, like he was some papa bear guarding your door with a shotgun. What’s with the guy?”
“After recent events, he’s a little protective.”
Maggie made a face. “Yeah, I heard about everything from Tony. Guess I can’t fault the guy after all.”
“Not that it’s not great to see you, Maggie,” I said, closing the door. “But what are you doing here?”
“I’m here doing Tony a favor—on Aiden’s behalf,” she explained, putting the crate she held down on the counter. My heart was already racing, which immediately ticked me off. I hated that even the mention of him could still make my heart pound.
I shook my head. “Nuh-uh, Maggie. I don’t want anything from?—”
“Hang on,” she said, shaking her hands at me. “Just hear what I have to say before you go kicking me out or something equally as ridiculous.”
“Wait, did you say you’re doing this as a favor to Tony?” I asked. “Does this mean the two of you are back together then?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“When I last dropped into the bar to say hello, I heard you two were having some…problems.”
“We were never not together,” Maggie muttered. “Also, Tony needs to learn to keep his big mouth shut about things.”
“Guess that’s something you two can work on as a couple.” I grinned at the look on her face. “If you’re officially together.”
Maggie actually blushed, which was both adorable and hilarious.
“Can I just say congrats? Because I think you and Tony are perfect together.”
Maggie crossed her arms, playing up the grumpy card. “Just open your dang crate already.”
I glanced at it, taking up room on the counter. “What’s in it?”
“How should I know?”
“You brought it all the way here without knowing what it is? I doubt that.” Not just because she was too nosy not to ask, but because I suspected this was a little more than a favor. I knew Maggie had always thought Aiden and I made a great pair.
She grumbled at me. “Of course I know what it is, but I’m not gonna tell you. That’ll ruin the surprise.”
“I’m not sure I want a surprise.” Especially one that came from Aiden.
“Just open it,” Maggie urged. “I don’t have all day. And I came all the way out here out of the goodness of my heart.”
“Okay, okay ,” I said, before she could really start complaining. “Why’s it in a crate anyway?”
“That’s where you put fragile merchandise.”
“Right.” Was it my heart? It could sure use better packaging since it kept getting broken. I slipped a butter knife out of the drawer and used it to help pry the lid off the crate, finding a sleek bottle nestled on a bed of straw. It took me a second to realize it was a bottle of Elixir Free—but the branding had been completely changed. The logo no longer read Elixir Free . Instead, it had been redesigned to read Zelda .
My pulse skipped as I cradled the bottle, my thumb running over the fancy lettering of Aiden’s longtime nickname for me.
“He had a one-off bottle made?”
“One-off?” Maggie snorted. “Kid, this is a whole brand change. This is what they all say now.”
Rebranding at the last minute like that must have cost him a fortune. Emotion clogged my throat.
“ Sooo? ” Maggie said, nudging me with her arm. “What do you think? Nice, right?”
I took a deep breath, ignoring the way my eyes filled with tears. This was…it was nice. It really was. And yet…it didn’t fix anything. I couldn’t let one moment of thoughtfulness erase how badly he’d hurt me. Changing the brand of Elixir Free didn’t change what had happened between us.
“I think it’s a weird thing for a guy to do after he dumped me,” I said when I’d gotten a hold of my emotions.
Maggie let out a frustrated huff. “Pretty sure it’s supposed to mean he wants to get back together. It’s his way of apologizing.”
“An apology starts with ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I was wrong’ or ‘I was a complete dumbass.’”
“Agreed,” Maggie said. “But also…if you’re not so good with words, I think a gesture can be a good start. And this one, well, I’m sure you know how big this one is.”
Sure, stamping my nickname on a product that was already live would make quite a splash. This kind of gesture was something only someone like the Cocktail King could pull off, but that wasn’t the version of him I’d fallen in love with, and the only thing this proved to me was that he didn’t understand that.
“I think it shows commitment on his part, right?” Maggie said, hopeful.
I shook my head. I couldn’t let myself fall for this. I knew better. I knew what I deserved. “He might seem committed now, but who’s to say he won’t change his mind again the next time something happens that makes him lose his oh-so-precious control?”
Maggie frowned, not quite sure what to say to that.
“I could maybe accept a gesture instead of words, but only if the gesture shows that he’s actually trying to address the problem he claimed he couldn’t get past. Changing the bottle doesn’t matter to me when what actually needs to change is him. And you can tell that to Tony or Aiden or whoever’s waiting for you back at the bar.” I put the bottle down on the counter. “I can’t trust a commitment from Aiden. Not when he’s broken them before. Multiple times. I’m tired of feeling like an idiot for trusting him.”
“If that’s how you feel,” Maggie said. “I won’t try to talk you out of your feelings.”
I nodded. “Thank you. It was good to see you though.”
Maggie sighed, picked up the bottle of Zelda, and glanced at my Masked Mixer video set up. “Sure seems a shame to waste this.”
“Is that your way of saying you want to stay for a drink?”
“Think you could whip something up?”
I gestured to a stool on the other side of the counter where Maggie could wait. “Have a seat and watch the magic,” I told her, taking two new glasses from the cupboard. I made a quick cocktail out of some of the ingredients still lying around, using Elixir Fr—using Zelda as my base.
I handed her the drink. We clinked our glasses. I didn’t know if it was a goodbye or a celebration, but it felt like acceptance.
Maggie took a sip. “Wow,” she said. “That’s a pretty damn good drink.”
Despite everything, I appreciated her compliment. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
“I mean it. You have a gift, Cora.” She shook her head. “Tony could totally use someone like you.”
“What d’you mean?”
Maggie made a sweeping gesture. “He’s got a great setup with the bar, and he’s a businessman through and through, so he knows exactly how to handle that side of things.”
“Right.”
“But…he could use someone to give the place a little magic—to make a list of signature cocktails and the like that could really put the bar on the map and make it stand out.” Maggie tilted her glass in my direction. “Sounds right up your alley.”
Hmm , I thought. There’s an idea…
AIDEN
It was a struggle to keep from pacing as I waited for Maggie to come back. Finally, she strode through the bar’s front door, a grumpy look on her face.
That was no help. She always had a grumpy look on her face. How was I supposed to know if that meant she had good news or not?
“Well?” I finally said, when I couldn’t contain myself any longer.
“Well, what?” she asked, taking a seat at the bar. Dad popped the cap off a beer and slid it down the counter to her.
“Well, did she open the package? What did she say?” I asked, barely managing to keep from snapping at her when she paused to take a long gulp from the bottle before answering.
“She opened it, all right,” Maggie stated. “And she said she thought it was a weird thing for a guy to do after he dumped her.”
I winced.
“And also that if you wanted to apologize, you probably should have started with ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I was wrong’ or ‘I was a complete dumbass.’ Personally,” she added, “my vote’s for the last one.”
“Mags…” Dad said from behind the bar, his voice softly scolding.
“What?” she shot back, unapologetic. “He was a dumbass. A moronic, boneheaded, chickenshit, fatheaded, ja?—”
“Okay, enough,” I cut in. “I get the idea.”
“You sure? ’Cause my brother got me a word-of-the-day calendar of insults for Christmas last year, and I’ve got plenty more I can pull from, if you haven’t gotten the message yet.”
“Trust me,” I gritted out. “I’ve gotten it loud and clear.”
“Well, just in case you need it broken down in smaller words…” she said, getting up from the barstool and coming over to stand in front of me, meeting me eye to eye. Well, eye to sternum—I was a lot taller than her. But that didn’t stop me from feeling small when she stared me down.
“You fucked up,” she said bluntly. “And you really hurt her. After what you did, it’s going to take more than swapping around a label to get her to forgive you.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I just wanted to show her how much she means to me.”
At that, Maggie finally softened a little. “Look, I’m not saying it was a bad move,” she conceded. “But it wasn’t enough. Cora said it herself—if you want her back, what needs to change isn’t the bottle. It’s you.”
“I’m trying ,” I said.
“Yeah, I know,” she replied. “Keep trying. Try harder.”