1. Cora #2
By the time he reached us, he’d painted on that tight smile again. “Wow,” Aiden said. His eyes flicked over me like he was appraising a painting. “This is unexpected. The Masked Mixer herself. My night just got better.”
I stiffened, opening my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
Jennifer slurped her drink noisily.
I’d been working hard to be stone-faced, to give nothing away, but my jaw dropped.
What the absolute hell? He didn’t recognize me!
Well, he did, but only as the Masked Mixer.
So not only had I been dumpable all those years ago, but I was forgettable too?
Why not give me some papercuts and spritz lemon juice over them, asshole?
Was this flimsy little mask really enough to hide my identity from someone who used to tell me that looking into my eyes was like looking at the stars?
Blah. I wanted to throw something—a drink, preferably—at that too-perfect face and watch it drip off that chiseled jaw, messing up his probably-designer clothes. But that would be a waste of a good drink.
He leaned against our table, close enough for those blue eyes of his to twinkle under the elaborate lighting rig overhead. His eyes shouldn’t be allowed to twinkle like that. “I’ve heard some amazing things about you.”
“Oh yeah?” I said, trying not to grimace in response. Save it, Mr. Elixir. I know your games.
“Yeah.”
“And what’s that?” Jennifer asked.
I threw her the mother of all glares. She hiccupped and covered her mouth.
“That you mix a mean drink,” Aiden teased.
Well, no fucking shit. Not as if I haven’t built my entire brand around that very thing.
“I’m sure you’ll easily sweep this contest. I doubt there’s anyone here who can hold a candle to you.
” He was trying to lay on the charm, but I still knew how to tell when his smile was faked.
This one looked flat, practiced. So he didn’t remember me, he was trying to hit on me for whatever reason, and he didn’t even mean it?
Gee, just when I thought he couldn’t possibly piss me off more…
“We’ll see,” I said dismissively, hoping to end this conversation. Just go away already, I pleaded silently. There’s a dumb blonde with awful pickup lines only a few feet away who’d love for you to flash that empty, soulless smile at her. Go bother her instead.
“But how great would it be to win?” he said.
Jennifer nodded, chasing a cherry at the bottom of her glass. “So great.”
I shot her a heated glare that said keep it together. She was officially cut off. No more Dirty Shirleys for her.
Aiden glanced at Jennifer, then turned to me again. “Your followers probably expect nothing less. But you know what would be even better?”
I’m sure he was about to enlighten me.
“If you won the contest using Elixir in your creations,” he said.
Ahh, okay. So that’s what this was all about. That was why the guy who took my virginity and now didn’t remember me was over here pretending to flirt. I was a business opportunity, nothing more. A vehicle for a bunch of free marketing for his stupid alcohol brand.
There was no end to how much he was going to piss me off tonight.
“It makes a really smooth cocktail,” he continued. “That’s what everyone says.”
I snorted. “I’ve literally never heard anyone say that,” I lied before turning to Jennifer. “Have you?”
She shrugged, halfway through another Dirty Shirley.
The corners of Aiden’s mouth tightened. Point to me. “You’re sure?” His voice was thin, on the verge of pissed. “It’s on our packaging and everything.”
“That’s called false advertising,” I said, enjoying the way his face struggled to maintain its composure. “And in my experience, a lot of packages lie.” I gave him a long, deliberate look up and down. “You can dress them up all fancy, but they’re never as impressive as what people claim.”
And sure, that was a lie, too—but I knew how to sell a lie, and I managed to smirk like I meant every word. I saw his jaw clench in response. Oooh, he was getting really annoyed. Another point to me, I thought, my smirk widening.
Aiden at seventeen probably would have blown his top by this point, but it looked like he’d learned to get a better handle on himself.
“Well,” he said, holding up a large bottle of Elixir I hadn’t noticed he was carrying.
He presented it to me, practically shoving it in my face.
“You should definitely give it a try. I think you’ll be inspired by our products. ”
Oh, he thinks I’ll be inspired by Elixir, does he? Ha!
“Consider this our thank you for adding Elixir to your drinks today,” he said.
“Did I say I was going to do that?” I shoved his hands and the bottle away. “I don’t want your liquor.”
Confusion knit his brows together. “This is a limited edition, tenth anniversary bottle.”
“So?”
“You can’t even buy these on the shelf!” he said, clearly exasperated.
“Am I supposed to be impressed?”
“You’re supposed to say thank you.” His words were close to a growl.
A noise of disbelief exploded from me. “Thank you for what? Intruding on my break uninvited and trying to pawn a bottle of Elixir off on me that I don’t want?”
“We had to make a special trip to the warehouse to retrieve this,” he snapped.
“Oh, you poor thing. What are you, a dog? Am I supposed to give you a treat for playing fetch?” I taunted.
Frustration inched into his features. I could see it in the fine lines across his forehead, the hard set of his jaw, and the way his shoulders inched up by his ears.
Clearly, he’d expected me to gush with gratitude.
But as far as I was concerned, he could shove that bottle where the sun didn’t shine.
His nostrils flared as he thumped the bottle down on the table. Beside me, Jennifer jumped. Aiden shoved the Elixir back in my direction. “This is a gift.”
I pushed the bottle away again. “And this is me refusing your gift.”
“You can’t refuse it. This bottle was selected specifically with you in mind.”
I snorted. Yeah, because he knew me—sorry, knew the Masked Mixer so well.
“Let me say this in a way you’ll understand: I don’t accept gifts from brands I have no intention of working with.
Me and Elixir are a no-go.” He wasn’t the first to try to butter me up with gifts to convince me to tie my name to their brand, but I had a firm policy of saying no.
A lot of companies were selling products I honestly wouldn’t endorse, and I wasn’t willing to stake my reputation on just anything.
That wasn’t the case with Elixir—I could admit that. It was a good product. But it was his product, and I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.
That tightly held mask Aiden wore fractured a little more. He wasn’t taking the rejection well. Aww, poor baby…I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from laughing.
“And why would you not want to work with Elixir?” he demanded.
I rolled my eyes. “How much time do you have?”
His hand clenched into a fist where it rested on the table. “Just take the goddamn bottle!”
“No. And last time I checked, that was a complete sentence.”
Aiden crossed his arms, looming over me. “Well, I’m not taking it back. And I’d hate for it to go to waste. So you might as well just accept it.”
God! What was it going to take for this asshole to get a clue?
I didn’t want to work with him or his stupid company, and like hell was I going to stand up in front of the massive crowd who’d gathered for this contest holding a bottle of Elixir.
My gaze drifted to a guy walking toward our table.
He wore a button on his shirt that said Birthday Boy.
How fucking perfect. A smug smile stretched across my face.
I grabbed the Elixir bottle and shoved it into the guy’s arms as he passed.
He blinked at me for a beat. So did Aiden.
“Happy Birthday!” I said, giving him an overly cheery smile.
“Yo!” the guy yelled to his friends, grinning like a tipsy fool as he lifted the bottle over his head. “Masked Mixer just gifted us a bottle!” There was a subsequent cheer from a table across the bar. He stumbled off with Aiden’s limited edition, tenth anniversary bottle.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Aiden snapped. I could practically see the angry wheels spinning behind his eyes.
“It’s called a birthday present,” I said. “And it sounds like you really made their night, Mr. Cocktail King.”
“That wasn’t meant for them,” he all but snarled.
I shrugged. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want it to go to waste.”
He huffed like a growl had gotten caught behind his teeth. He was definitely pissed off now. Good. Maybe now he’d take his stupid-hot self somewhere else and leave me the hell alone.
“Round two participants!” the host announced into the mic. “Last call! Please make your way to the bar.”
“That’s you!” Jennifer said excitedly, reaching across the table to nudge my arm.
Last call? I jumped off my stool. I’d almost missed the round because I was too busy being annoyed by Aiden. I was not going to let him mess with my head like he did back in the day. Not again. And especially not now, when I had a contest to win.
“Wait,” he said as I hurried past him, heading for the bar. He gestured after the birthday boy. “The bottle!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said in my most condescending tone, looking from the birthday boy’s table to Aiden. “They’re so drunk already I’m sure they won’t notice Elixir’s awful aftertaste.”
Aiden’s face twisted into a snarl. I turned away, grimly satisfied, and made my way over to my round two workstation.
Another point to me.