5. Cora #3
“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.