11. Aiden #2
“Anyway,” I said, grinning, “after the class was over—which we aced, by the way—me, Dominic, and Trent sort of ran with the idea, figuring out how to grow it into a working business. By the time we graduated, it was a full-time job for the three of us. Vincent was already committed to his family’s business, but he came on as an investor. ”
“Okay, that’s ridiculously impressive,” she admitted. “Most college students can barely figure out how to do their own laundry. Meanwhile, you and your friends are taking over the make-up industry.”
Warmth surged through me at her words. I didn’t know why one little compliment had me feeling like that.
It’s not as if I didn’t already know how amazing it was.
Maybe I’d just forgotten what it was like to talk to her.
To really share things with her. She’d always been super supportive—even of my dumb high school dreams of wanting to win the state championship my senior year.
And maybe a small part of me sort of wanted her to be impressed.
I wanted to be deserving of her praise. She’d always encouraged me to chase my dreams. And she was so damn beautiful—even when she was getting powdered sugar from the donut all over her nose and shirt.
“So what happened to the cosmetics company?” Cora wondered.
“We sold it when I was about twenty-three.” The group of us had split the one hundred-million-dollar profit. “I took my share of the proceeds and used it as seed money for Elixir. Ten years later, here we are.”
“It’s nice that you and Dominic stayed close.”
“Oh, the whole group is still close. I was actually just at Trent’s birthday the other weekend.
And Vincent and his fiancée just had a baby, so we were all at the hospital for that.
I’ve been really lucky to have the guys in my life.
And Trent’s grandmother. She kinda adopted the group of us in college. Calls us her Lost Boys.”
“She sounds sweet,” Cora said.
I laughed. “She can be sassy as anything. And she likes to meddle in our love lives. But she opened her home to me while my parents were going through their divorce, and I’ll always be grateful to her for that.”
“Sounds like she’s really important to you,” Cora said softly.
“She is,” I said, my voice tight, almost harsh. Cora looked startled and leaned back, as if she was worried she’d offended me. “Sorry, I just…I’m kind of worried about her right now. She’s been having some dizzy spells.”
“What have the doctors said?” Cora asked gently.
“That’s the problem—she’s been fighting against going to get checked out.
” I shrugged helplessly. “All of us have been trying to talk her around. We even called up her best gal pals to bug her, but it’s a work in progress.
” I cleared my throat, struggling to force down my anxiety.
“So, how’d you get into the Masked Mixer thing anyway? ”
Cora took a beat before answering my question.
“I guess I stumbled into bartending sort of by accident,” she said. “Or maybe that’s not the right word. More like out of necessity. You heard about what happened to my dad, yeah?”
Yeah, I’d heard. I’d been a sophomore at Cornell, so I hadn’t been around, but in a small town, everyone knows everyone’s business.
I’d gotten the story from a couple of high school friends I still kept in touch with back then.
Mr. Newport’s car wreck had been a mess, but what had made it worse was that it hadn’t been immediately fatal.
He had a couple of surgeries right afterward to try to save him…
but all they really did was load Cora and her mom with a mountain of medical debt on top of the funeral costs.
My hands tightened around the wheel. It was all so unfair.
I hadn’t known Mr. Newport well—he’d tried so hard not to be some “overbearing dad intimidates his daughter’s boyfriend” cliché that he never knew what to say to me.
I couldn’t remember much beyond a handful of awkward conversations between us in the stretch of time when Cora and I dated.
But even just knowing him in passing, I could still tell that he loved his wife and his daughter deeply, and the last thing he would have wanted was to make life harder on them.
But—through no fault of his own—that was exactly what he’d done, leaving them in a financial hole that couldn’t have been easy to climb out from.
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out directly,” I said, feeling the need to apologize.
“It’s okay,” she said, trying to brush off the apology. “It was a long time ago, Aiden.”
“I just didn’t know the right thing to say.
” Truthfully, I hadn’t felt comfortable calling after the way things had ended between us.
I’d figured I was probably the last person she wanted to have to deal with when she had so much else on her plate.
“I sent flowers though. I never did put my name on the card, so it’s not like you would have known they were from me anyway. ”
“Oh,” she said, tilting her head to look at me.
“That was…Thank you.” She smoothed the crinkled edges of the pretzel bag.
“Losing my dad was hard, but the debt…that was what really made it scary. For a while, we thought we’d lose the house.
We were able to use my college fund to save it.
I thought at first about trying to go to school anyway—getting loans, all of that.
But my mom…she’d been a housewife, remember?
Even when she was able to find a job, she just didn’t have the qualifications to earn much.
She needed another salary in the house, and I came to find out that tending bar paid pretty well. ”
“So you gave up your dreams,” I said softly, remembering the girl who had planned to be an English teacher, who’d loved Jazz Age writers and always carried a copy of The Great Gatsby with her. My Zelda…
“I found a new dream,” she said. “I discovered my passion for mixing drinks. Even when things settled down—when my mom got a better job, and we finally paid off the last of the debt—I never seriously considered going back to school. I found the thing I’m meant to be doing.
Now my plan is to save up to open a literary-themed speakeasy.
That way I can combine my love of literature with my passion for crafting drinks. ”
“That’s…Wow!” I hadn’t realized she had designs on starting her own business.
“That’s partly why I was so eager to say hi to your dad again when you said he was refurbishing the Red Lion. I thought I might be able to pick his brain a little.”
“I’m sure he’d love to talk to you about it,” I said sincerely. “Maggie, his handywoman, might also be a good resource for you. She could give you the rundown on what it takes to get a place fitted up right.”
“That’d be great,” she said. “I know your dad’s obviously in Manhattan now. But where’d your mom end up after the divorce?”
“She’s in Ohio, closer to my grandparents. What about your mom? How’s she doing?”
“She’s doing well…I think.” Cora sighed heavily, snapping a pretzel in half.
“What is it?”
“It’s just…She’s been oddly distant and secretive lately. It takes her hours to reply to my texts sometimes, which is so unlike her. I’m starting to worry something is wrong.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” I said.
“She would have told you if it was. Right?” Then again, wasn’t Nana Dee trying to hide whatever was going on with her?
I shoved that thought aside, trying to comfort Cora as best as I could.
“Look, maybe you’re just overthinking it. Maybe she took up a new hobby.”
“I don’t know,” Cora said, indecisive. “Something is definitely going on with her. My mind keeps flipping between serious and ridiculous things. What if she’s sick?
What if she’s run into money troubles again?
What if she’s decided to sell the house and move down south to sell pineapples off a fruit stand on the beach? ”
I burst out laughing as I envisioned a dilapidated fruit stand. No way in hell was Bonnie Newport heading down south to sell pineapples. “I don’t think you have to worry about your mother giving up her home for a fruit stand.”
“Stop laughing.”
“I’m trying.”
“I’m not even going to tell you about my alien abduction theory then.”
“Oh, I definitely want to hear this.”
Cora shook her head, her smile twisting as her lips puckered. For the next thirty minutes, she told me about one crazy theory after another. From there, she segued into even crazier bartending stories.
“What’s happening?” Cora asked in the middle of a hilarious story, bracing her hand against the door as I changed lanes.
“I’m pulling over.” I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
“Why?”
“Because there are so many tears in my eyes I can’t see the road.” I drove onto the shoulder and stopped the car, taking a deep breath, trying to get myself under control. But every time I managed to stop the laughter it started up again.
“Okay, it wasn’t that funny,” Cora said. She plucked another donut from the box between us, smiling at my laughter.
“I can’t believe you actually switched out the fruit puree for habanero chili!”
She shrugged. “He told me my drinks needed a kick.”
“I assume he was another satisfied customer?” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes before pulling back onto the freeway. We flashed past a sign for Newburgh, and I glanced down at the clock on the dashboard. How had an hour and a half passed so quickly?
“Never saw him again. Do you want to hear about the guy who brought a goat to the line dancing night?” she asked.
“Hell yes!” I never wanted this drive to end.