5. Cora
5
CORA
E lixir’s company headquarters was in a towering building near Park Avenue and 50th Street. I was technically a little early for my first day, but I’d been up even before Jennifer, my mind spinning through potential mocktail combinations and battling an annoyingly persistent bout of nerves.
I let out a frustrated breath as I made my way through Midtown. What the hell did I have to be nervous about?
Elixir had been determined to work with me . Or, at least, the Masked Mixer. I wasn’t the one who needed to prove myself here. All I had to do was complete the contract, collect my paycheck, and use the hopefully decent lab to film a bunch of fresh content. Elixir was the one who had to impress me. I stood before the building, glancing up where the roof disappeared into the clouds.
Time to see if Allie’s claims turned out to be true.
After checking in at the reception desk on the ground floor, I took the elevator up to the reception area for Elixir. Their corporate offices occupied several floors at the top of the shared office tower. I was immediately taken aback as I stepped into the lobby. It was a perfect blend of modern luxury and technical innovation with soaring ceilings, a sculpted metal chandelier, and pristine marble floors. Large glass display cases showcased Elixir’s finest liquor. At the back of the lobby stood a reception desk with a high-definition screen mounted on the wall displaying the company’s history. A plush seating area to the left featured curated books on the distillation process and magazines with Aiden’s face on them. I snorted. Of course he wanted his face front and center in the lobby. I was surprised he didn’t have a framed portrait of himself mounted on the wall. He probably saved that for his office.
Still, despite the company being ten years old, everything still looked sleek and shiny and new. The space even smelled nice. And that was more annoying.
I didn’t want to like it here.
It’s only the lobby , I reminded myself.
“Hi there. Can I help you?” a woman called from the reception desk. She was young and stylish, with a bright smile.
I darted forward. “Yes, hi. I’m Cora Newport. It’s my first day and?—”
“—you’re wondering where you’re supposed to be?”
I chuckled. “Exactly that.”
She nodded and picked up the phone on her desk, pressing it to her ear. “Give me one second,” she whispered, waiting for the call to connect. “We’ll get you sorted out…Yes!” she said suddenly. “Ms. Newport is here.”
Ms. Newport? The nerves sparked to life in my gut again. It was hard not to feel intimidated. I had confidence in myself and my skills, but I also had zero experience in the corporate world. College hadn’t been an option for me financially, after all my family went through. Bartending was a job I fell into and ended up loving. But an office job? I’d never had one of those before.
And now, here I was—working for a man and a company I never could have imagined working for in a million years.
“Janine’s coming up to get you,” the receptionist told me.
“Janine,” I said. “Right. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem. Feel free to have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the nearest chair.
I didn’t, instead wandering between the display shelves. An elevator door opened a few minutes later, and someone who must have been Janine appeared, walking toward me with her arm outstretched. “Cora, hi. Janine Thomas from HR.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said. She had the most incredible pair of red-framed cat-eye glasses.
“Okay, I think I’ve mostly got you sorted for your first day.” She patted a laptop bag hanging from her shoulder. “I’ve got your access pass here, a company laptop for you to keep any product notes in, and your complimentary bottle of Elixir.”
I frowned as she passed me the laptop bag. “Does everyone get a complimentary bottle of Elixir?”
“Not a tenth anniversary bottle.” She leaned close, like we were sharing a secret. “The CEO himself brought it down for you. Isn’t that sweet?”
I bit my tongue to keep from saying something inappropriate. “Sweet” wasn’t the word I’d use. This was Aiden being petty after what happened at the bar. He knew I really had no choice but to accept the bottle now since I was working for Elixir.
“If you’ll follow me,” Janine carried on, “I’ll take you through the onboarding process.”
She set off across the lobby, and I hurried after her. Our first stop was her office where we handled all the paperwork—reviewing policies and procedures, signing up for insurance and a 401K. Across the hall, Janine took me through IT setup where I received my login info in order to access the necessary internal systems.
“Time for the official tour,” she said at last. We caught the elevator up to another floor where we toured through Sales and Distribution followed by Marketing and Branding. There was an entire corridor lined with displays showcasing Elixir’s prestigious awards and more bottles. Janine introduced me to an endless line of people whose names I wouldn’t be able to keep straight even if my life depended on it. There was also a tasting room, a large cafeteria I would check out at lunch, and a plethora of executive office suites.
“On to Research and Development,” Janine said, hitting another button in the elevator. “That’s where you’ll spend most of your time.”
“Is that where the lab is?”
“You bet.”
“I keep hearing big things about this lab.” I hated to admit I was impressed so far, but I was really waiting to be wowed.
Janine smiled, and the elevator opened to a floor bustling with activity. It immediately reminded me of a beehive.
“Cora!”
I turned at the sound of my name, grinning as I spotted a familiar face. “Allie!”
She walked over. “I see Janine’s got you started on the tour. All finished with the mandatory stuff?”
“She means the boring stuff,” Janine stage-whispered to me. “And yes. She’s all yours.”
“Perfect.” Janine headed off, and Allie steered me into the chaos. “I thought I’d pop by to introduce you to the team you’ll be working with myself.”
“That’d be great.”
She led me past rooms filled with sleek, stainless steel workstations and equipment. There were technicians clad in lab coats bent over experiments.
“We obviously have multiple projects running at once,” Allie said. “To enhance flavors, refine production processes. All that good stuff. We’ve got tanks where different blends are monitored and tested for optimal taste profiles.”
The air smelled of fermenting spirits, and the hum of analytical instruments reached my ears. The buzz of excitement replaced the nerves in my gut.
“But this is where you’ll be working,” she said as we turned a corner, entering a large room. Off to one side was a conference table, the wall adorned with charts and graphs and tasting notes. “Morning, team.”
A group of people whirled around as Allie stepped forward, introducing me.
“I’d like you all to meet Cora Newport. You might better know her as the Masked Mixer. Cora, these are your product developers.” She started pointing out the team. “You’ve got Dorothy.”
“Call me Dot,” a petite, young woman said, rushing over, practically squealing. She latched onto my hand with both of hers. “Big fan. I mean, like massive. I’ve watched all your videos at least a dozen times. Maybe more than a dozen.”
“Reign it in, Dotty,” a man said, patting her on the shoulders. “Hey, I’m Javeed. Also a fan, though I’ll try not to make a big deal out of it.”
“And you’ve got Chris over there,” Allie said, pointing out a man wearing a massive pair of headphones. He had his back to us, hunched over the conference table, furiously writing in a notebook.
“He’s in the zone,” Javeed said, indicating the headphones.
“He is not to be disturbed when he’s in the zone,” Dot whispered.
Something must have caught his attention, because Chris looked over, his eyes widening, and he whipped off the headphones. “Was no one going to tell me she’d arrived?”
“You were in the zone,” Javeed said, making air quotations with his fingers.
“The zone can be disturbed for this.”
“Oh, sure,” Dot said, “but when the fire alarm is going off, it’s all, ‘Don’t bug me, it’s probably just a drill.’”
“Well, statistically, it most likely is a drill,” Chris reasoned, coming over to join us. “But how often does the Masked Mixer show up to our place of employment?”
“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Allie said, nudging my shoulder. “I guess you’ll want to see that state-of-the-art lab I promised you.”
I laughed. “I’m worried I’ve built it up too much in my head.”
“Only one way to find out,” she said, grinning. Dot, Javeed, and Chris led the way.
I followed them into the lab, and my jaw dropped. I was glad Aiden wasn’t around. I wasn’t sure I could have concealed my reaction, and he would have been a smug bastard about it. Everywhere I looked, there were more of those stainless steel workstations and high-tech fermentation chambers and precision-controlled distillation columns.
“The fermentation chambers are temperature and humidity controlled,” Javeed said.
“We’ve also got a sensory evaluation area,” Chris said, pointing out two climate-controlled booths. “So tasters can assess the aroma, flavor, and mouthfeel of new spirits we’re working on.”
I peeked in. Booths like these were usually equipped with specialized glassware and lighting so tasters could detect subtle nuances and product characteristics. I turned around, coming face to face with a glass-enclosed room, offering a panoramic view of the lab.
“That’s for the tours,” Dot said. “Sometimes the big-wigs like to see us in action. But I think you’ll like this the best.” She waved me toward a stainless steel door. “We call this the pantry.”
She swung the door open, revealing a walk-in room stocked with ingredients. A soft sound of delight escaped before I could stop it. There were shelves upon shelves of mixology supplies—liquor, flavored syrups, bitters and extracts, garnishes, spices, and all the bases and mixers I could imagine.
“We’ve got two climate-controlled spaces here and here,” Dot said, “for the perishable ingredients. Your citrus fruits, berries, fresh herbs, purees. Dairy or specialty ingredients that require refrigeration go in this one. And a freezer here for ice. You know, all that good stuff.”
“Holy shit,” I said as Dot closed the door. “This place is…It’s incredible.”
“I know, right?” Dot squeezed my arm. “That’s what I said when I first saw it too. Pretty sure I almost cried.”
“She cries at all sorts of things,” Chris said. “Cute cat videos mostly. So that’s not really a reflection on anything.”
Dot ignored him. “This will be your space here. We tidied it up for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, settling in at the workstation, feeling unreasonably touched at the little gifts they’d left to brighten the space for me—a coffee mug they must’ve special ordered with my Masked Mixer logo and a pen holder in the shape of a liquor bottle. Part of the reason I’d been nervous was because I was certain the product developers would be territorial or offended that I was brought in at the last minute to work over them. But so far, they seemed thrilled.
“I’ve gotta run for a bit,” Allie said as her watch beeped. “But you’re in good hands here. The team can answer any questions you have, or at least direct you to someone who can answer them. Are you good?”
“Yeah, thanks for showing me around,” I said.
Allie backed toward the door. “I’ll catch you at lunch.”
When she was gone, Javeed clapped his hands together. “So, I’ve got a team meeting on the books for tomorrow afternoon. Aiden said to give you the day to familiarize yourself with the lab and then you could start chatting through your vision with us.”
I noted that he called Aiden by his first name. Not boss or CEO or even Mr. Callihan. “He doesn’t want us to jump into it today?”
Javeed shook his head. “Nah, he was super chill when he came down to talk to me. Wanted to make sure you were settled and comfortable.”
That sounded like the opposite of the man I’d encountered this past week. “Is he always so…reasonable?”
“I’ve always thought him to be incredibly approachable for a CEO,” Javeed said.
“Approachable?” I swallowed the laugh of disbelief that shot up my throat. Were we talking about the same guy?
“I mean, he might come across as a hardass sometimes,” Chris said. “But he’s always got the team’s back, you know?”
“And he works hard to make sure we’ve got a good work/life balance,” Dot piped up.
Allie would have given me an “I told you so” look if she was still here. I pursed my lips. I sort of figured chatting about how big of a jerk Aiden was would have been my bonding activity with my new coworkers, but he seemed to have them Stepforded into believing he was some kind of great guy. Maybe that meant they didn’t have much contact with him—which would be a good thing. It would mean I could enjoy this amazing workspace and these surprisingly nice coworkers without the Specter of Boyfriends Past hanging over my head. And I did think I was going to enjoy myself here. The team seemed receptive to my inclusion in the project, and I was eager to get started. And if I was being honest, I was secretly impressed with what Aiden had accomplished.
Whoa, wait ! Had that thought just spiraled through my mind?
How was this the same guy who’d stomped on my heart all those years ago?
“Lunch!” Chris announced a few hours later. I’d been so busy exploring the lab and writing down ideas that I’d hardly noticed the time passing.
“We take lunch seriously here,” Dot said, looping her arm through mine, pulling me away from my workstation. “Have you seen the cafeteria yet?”
“We walked past it on the tour, but we didn’t actually stop in,” I said.
I followed the team down to the cafeteria, and my jaw dropped again. It resembled a food court in a mall more than it did any office cafeteria I’d ever seen. There were dozens of food stations and massive circular tables. “This is…a lot?”
Dot laughed. “If you’ve got any allergies or dietary restrictions, don’t hesitate to let the chefs know. They’re good about making alterations and letting you know what to steer clear of.”
“Right. And this is?—”
“All free to employees,” Javeed cut in. “Consider it a perk of the job.” I followed him and Dot into a food line. Chris disappeared with his headphones through another door. “There’s a quiet room off to the side for people who want to wind down during lunch,” he explained, “but most people eat here in the main room.”
I noticed a bunch of people in suits entering. “Including the more senior employees?”
“Especially them,” Dot said, lifting her hand and waving at someone. “Aiden established it early on. He wanted even the top people to leave their offices at lunch, to be approachable. He especially wanted people to feel like they could walk up to him with questions, concerns, or just for chitchat.”
I didn’t even know what to say to that. We collected our lunches and ended up at a table with Allie and another man I hadn’t met yet. He had kind eyes and a smile that put me at ease immediately. I didn’t think he was much older than I was, but he was already greying at the temples.
“Dominic,” he introduced himself. “Chief marketing director. Sorry I missed you on the tour.”
“No worries. It’s nice to meet you,” I said.
“I was actually hoping to touch base with you the other night at the Bottom of the Barrel event, but something came up, and I had to send Aiden to cover.”
“Ah,” I said. Maybe that explained why Aiden was in such a bad mood that night.
“I know,” Dominic said. “I saw the video. Not our finest moment. But lucky for us, Allie is very good at making up for our flaws.”
I laughed. “It was a good sales pitch.”
“I keep saying she needs to jump ship from talent acquisition and join marketing.”
Allie hummed. “Maybe one day.”
“So what do you think of the lab?” he asked.
I laughed louder. Did everyone know that was the selling point? “It’s amazing,” I said in between bites of food. “I usually work with far less, so I’m feeling a little spoiled.”
“Well, if there’s anything you’re missing, let the team know, and we’ll get it sorted.”
A voice reached me suddenly, and my next bite went down hard. I spied Aiden over my shoulder at the next table. It had almost been a perfect day so far, but apparently, all good things had to come to an end.
“You add the rum, lime juice, grapefruit juice, and maraschino liqueur,” he was saying to the person sitting next to him.
I turned to face forward, but my interest was piqued, and I couldn’t stop myself from listening in on his conversation. I knew that drink, but how did he? It was an obscure cocktail that used to be popular in the mid-twentieth century. One of the reasons I knew of it was because it was a favorite of the writer Ernest Hemingway. Definitely the kind of drink I wanted on the menu when I got my literary-themed speakeasy off the ground.
“Then you add some simple syrup to a shaker filled with ice,” Aiden continued.
Simple syrup? Um, no…I bit my tongue. He was describing it all wrong, but the last thing I wanted to do was make a scene on my first day, especially by correcting the CEO.
“Garnish with a lime wheel or a grapefruit twist. I’m telling you, it’s such a good pairing with seafood.”
I scoffed. Simple syrup would totally ruin the acidity of the cocktail. How would that pair well with the richness of seafood? I couldn’t help myself. I twisted back around in my seat. “You’re talking about the Hemingway Daiquiri, right?”
Aiden looked up at the interruption, and his eyes narrowed slightly when they met mine. “I’m talking about the Papa Doble.”
I held onto my scoff. “That’s the same drink. And that’s not how you make it.”
“What?”
“That’s not how you make it,” I repeated.
“What do you mean?”
“Simple syrup?”
He smirked. “Have I ruffled your feathers, Zelda?”
I crossed my arms. “I would think that the Cocktail King would know there’s no simple syrup in the drink.”
“I can emphatically confirm that there is.”
“No, there isn’t.”
“That’s the drink I ordered,” he insisted. “And that’s how it came. So I think I know what I’m talking about.”
“Maybe they sweetened it up for you,” I suggested. “Probably thought you couldn’t handle the real thing.”
“That is the real thing.”
“It’s definitely not.” If anyone was going to know about a literary-themed cocktail, it was me. “The drink reflects Hemingway’s preference for less sweet cocktails and his fondness for Caribbean rum.”
“Okay,” Allie cut in. “There’s a simple way to figure this out. What’s it called again?”
“The Hemingway Daiquiri,” I said at the same time Aiden said, “Papa Doble.”
Phones appeared as everyone around us started Googling at once. I stared Aiden down.
“Okay, wait, I found something,” Dot said. “It says the Hemingway Daiquiri is traditionally less sweet compared to other daiquiris, reflecting Ernest Hemingway’s personal taste for more tart and strong flavors.”
“Yeah,” Javeed said. “This site says the maraschino liqueur and fresh fruit juices provide sweetness and complexity, so adding simple syrup is unnecessary.”
“See?” I said, nodding at Aiden. “You’re ruining a perfectly good drink with your totally unneeded simple syrup.”
“But,” Allie said, looking down at her own phone, “this site says the Hemingway Daiquiri is often made with simple syrup nowadays. That contemporary palates prefer a slightly sweeter cocktail. Although it’s not part of the traditional recipes, it is an accepted practice in modern versions.”
“See?” Aiden echoed, looking smug. “Maybe you need to catch up with modern times.”
“I try not to ruin things from the past that are perfectly good the way they are,” I shot back.
His gaze narrowed, but before he could respond, Allie said, “If you ask me, it looks like you’re both right in a way. It all boils down to personal taste.”
“I think what’s more impressive is that you both knew about this random obscure cocktail,” Dominic said, shaking his head.
“I need to test this out,” Javeed said. “Anyone up for a little post-work drink?”
I held Aiden’s gaze. Okay, maybe this was technically a win for both of us, but I still thought he was ruining a perfectly good drink. But that shouldn’t surprise me.
He had a habit of ruining perfectly good things.